Young Writers Society

Garis

Few things took Garis by surprise, but Rosalie's terms almost floored him. So much for her being the sweetest of the lot. The assassin looked at her with a new regard and carefully-concealed wariness.

"Do you not see what I want?" she asked, impatient and wringing her hands beneath her cloak.

The assassin exhaled deeply before replying, "You desire quite a lot, Princess. You realize that it will not come cheap?"

"Money is no issue for me."

Garis gave a brief, mirthless laugh. "I thought not, and money is the only thing that matters in this. Now, as for the price..." The assassin leaned forward and whispered the sum in the princess's ear, unable to hold back a smile as she gasped in surprise -- the amount was exorbitant, enough to run the entire country for a full three months with enough left over for several lavish parties.

Garis stepped back to find the princess looking at him, not a shred of hesitation to be found in her appearance. "Done."

"The assassin requires a quarter of the payment up front..." A hefty bag of coin was held out in front of him, and Garis took it, estimating the amount by weight -- it was a little over a quarter, but no matter. He hid it in his own cloak, all the while wondering at the foolishness of the youngest princess. "Another quarter will be expected after every kill. Is there any preference for the order and timing?"

Rosalie nodded her understanding and said, "Derrick first, before the assembly. Casilda next, and Arianna last."

"Consider it done. Now, Princess, we really should be returning to the palace. The assembly is in a few hours, and I believe you need time to prepare." He offered his arm to the princess, she took it, and they departed from the roadside glen they had conversed in, heading back to the court.

---

Garis waited in the shadows of Derrick's room, dressed all in black, dagger ready to hand, a skin of fresh lamb's blood on his hip, and a vial of a rare potion that induced a deathlike state stashed carefully in a breast pocket. The impending murder of a friend weighed heavily on the assassin's mind, but not as heavily as the blood money, broken up and safely stashed away. Still, he was not so cold-hearted as to kill one of his rare friends in cold blood -- Garis at least had the decency to offer the prince the chance to buy his life, hence the lamb's blood and potion, laced with a plant that caused painful seizures. A fake death by poisoning had to look convincing, after all.

The door to the room swung open on well-oiled hinges, and Prince Derrick stepped into the room. Garis waited until the prince had shut the door behind him and sat down in a chair before approaching his friend, dagger concealed, but ready at hand, as always.

"Derrick...."

Arianna-

It was nearing dusk when Arianna, sitting in the main hall, finally saw her sister re-enter the palace.

"Well?" she asked, standing up, putting her sampler to one side.

Rosalie smiled, just the tiniest amount. "I did what you asked, Ari." She began to move on through the hall.

"And the price?"

"What you gave me was sufficient. The job will be done, and in good time as well." She turned back, fixing Arianna's eyes with her own sea-coloured gaze. "Don't worry, sister. I can handle things well enough on my own. Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I..." Arianna stopped, wondering what she was saying, looked up, and saw Rosalie's smile deepen. She stopped herself. "The assembly begins in less than an hour, Rosie. If you want to make a good impression, I suggest you show up on time. In fact, why don't you come to my room for a drink first? Marie left me the most wonderful bottle of Westheath."

She was testing the waters, to see if Rosalie would respond as the person who ordered the wine might have. Rosalie, however, barely flinched. "Perhaps. If I have time. I feel the need to have a good long wash. Maybe after the assembly?"

Arianna couldn't be too obvious. "Of course."

So that was no good. Rosalie could honestly have no idea- besides, who wouldn't avoid a drink with one of the other four at this point in time? or she could just be acting. She sighed, picking her embroidery up and heading back to her rooms. That made no headway then.

Still, now Rosalie had hired an assassin. Perhaps Arianna should have mentioned that the one she had found should also report to her personally. You couldn't have your little sister perform all your dealings for you.

No. Perhaps she should find the assassin and have a chat with him herself.

Sandor
His mother the queen had quite a twisted sense of humor, Sandor reflected as he prowled the castle’s crowded alleys. It hadn’t been enough to keep him around to shove his nose into all that he could have had if only she’d hadn’t had the brilliant idea to find herself some stranger to warm her bed while her kingly husband had been off. No, now she had to disturb the whole kingdom by changing the designated heir at the last minute.

He snorted. Way to make a wave with her dying wish. And way to make his life harder than ever: now his brother and sisters were going to be at each other’s throats, while he’d been assigned to the castle, which meant he was responsible for their safety.

Or, in better words, that he was supposed to interfere in any plans they might have to get rid of one another.

If he was honest with himself, he wouldn’t be overly devastated if Arianna were to meet an untimely end. She’d been treating him like dirt for the past fifteen years, and the preferential treatment she’d been benefitting from the start did nothing to increase his affection for her.

Rosalie… was too close to Ari to his taste. He didn’t want her dead, but, well. Now Casilda and Derrick were another matter entirely. And sadly enough Derrick, with his new position as heir apparent, was probably going to be the one to need protection the most.

Sandor could feel a headache coming on already.

First things first. The assembly tonight would assemble all his siblings, as well as most of the powerful of the land. Note to self: reinforce security around the rooms where it would happen, and station guards that would be ready to act.

N.B. to note: find proper cloak and vest to wear. As both commander of the guard and son of the queen his presence would be required. Thinking about it, fine chainmail under the vest couldn’t hurt either.

Second… check up on everyone. Gods knew how good they all were at avoiding guards when they felt like it, and now that at least one or two of them were plotting, it’d only get worse.

So much to do, so little time… and time was so very precious here, when every second could mean he was a little bit closer to lose another member of his family, however dysfunctional and messed-up it was.

The weight of the responsibility was crushing. Sometimes he wondered if he was good enough for this. Most of the time the answer was no.

He sighed, and walked a little faster. Through the windows the dusk was stretching its fingers in a last reach for light. Derrick was the most likely target.

And the one furthest away from him.

Please don’t let me fail, he prayed to some absent deity, and quickened his pace.

[[open for him to get there in time to interrupt the drama, be too late and ADD to the drama, or stopped midway for Important Talk/Distraction/Plotting ;D]]

Marie

The queen's passing on - what an unpleasant phrase! - had made the young woman sad and she still couldn't have said why. There was no explanation for it. The queen had showed her no motherly love, no affection, no - and why should she? It was foolishness to even speculate about such a possibility. And yet... her death had thrown Marie's life into turbulence. And she was sad.

Even as she laced the bottle of wine and carried it up to Arianna's room, she could feel her hand shaking. Pausing at the door, she frowned at it. Stop that! she told herself. Stop... but stop what, which? The plot that was unfolding in her head, the desperate fears all clinging to each other in hopes of comfort, but instead snowballing and exploding in her mind? Stop that, what a ridiculous notion! What if the siblings killed each other? Marie didn't care who took the throne, she just didn't want anyone dead.

And Arianna was the most likely to cause trouble. Steeling her nerves, Marie stepped inside firm in her resolve.

"I thought you looked like you needed a little perking up at lunch, what with the assembly tonight," Marie explained, setting the wine down. "It's your favourite- Westheath, mature."

Arianna nodded. Marie thought she looked tired or perhaps suspicious. But then, there wasn't a time that Arianna wasn't suspicious. "Yes, that would be nice." Marie poured wine into the goblet and handed it across. Here was the test. She had few hopes, she knew Arianna too well but if there was even the slightest chance...

And it was gone. Arianna took a delicate sniff of the wine and changed her mind.

"On second thoughts," she said, her voice slightly strained. "I think I'll wait until after my afternoon ride. You are dismissed."

Marie gave a quick curtsy and left the room. But in the hall, she allowed herself a briefly vexed expression before walking at double speed to the heir's room. prince Derrick. It was strange to think of his as the future king and a part of her thought he was entirely wrong for the role but - no - she'd decided to stay out of the politics. Hadn't she? Yes. As long as nobody was killed.

About to enter the room, Marie suddenly hesitated and knocked instead. That felt strange. She'd never knocked on one of the children's doors before. Except, well, he was the heir afterall. A single ceremony away from being king.

Princess Casilda:

Casilda was skipping down one of the many hallways when she saw her bastard brother, Sander, making for Derrick's room. I wonder what he's doing, she thought and hurried to catch up.

"Sander!" She said and flung her arms around him. He blinked and looked down at her. Upon seeing who it was, he smiled.

"Hello Casilda," he said and gently tried to extract himself from her arms. "What are you doing?"

Casilda paused, looking around. "Nothing, I guess." She flashed him a small smile and turned to dash away.

"Wait," Sander called and Casilda turned back.

"Yes?"

"You haven't seen any strangers around, have you?"

She thought for a moment, lips pursed and then shook her head. Of course, there had been the gentleman looking for an exit but that hadn't worried her. Casilda turned and dashed off down the hall, leaving a befuddled Sander shaking his head.

Jacy

“Hello ladies,” said Jacy, smiling and trying to juggle six balls all at once. Though juggling might not be the most entertaining of acts, it was a good way to wind down before his shift was over. “What do you think of the night so far?”

The three ladies that Jacy had just addressed were the kind of ladies that he normally enjoyed flirting with: blond hair, pretty face, fair skin and filled from breast to things. But tonight, he wasn’t interested. They stared back at him for a moment before turning to each other for approval.

“Sir jester, we know that you’ve done a lot to please us tonight. From telling stories, dancing and shallowing swords down your throat, but see-“

“Yes!?” Jacy interrupted desperately, his eyes growing wide. Yea he’ll admit, tonight wasn’t one of his best efforts, but to blatantly say in his face that he stunk the whole court room? Ungrateful pheasants thought Jacy.

“We were wondering if you can...” The lady paused, running a finger over her breasts. “...If you can join us in the bed chambers. “

“Yea, join us,” said the lady next to her, and they all burst into giggles.

Jacy swallowed and tugged on his collar. He had always wondered if he had bad luck with woman. Why was it that he mostly got the attention of a lowly pheasant and rarely that of noble blood? Was it because his acts were shady themselves? It was frustrating that the nobles he’d perform for always gave a grim look, clapping only once the act was over.

“Hey umm see-“

“Jacy!” Barked his boss. “Come over here for a minute.”

With the burden suddenly removed from his shoulders, he danced to where his boss was standing, the bell that was attached to the tail of his jester hat jingled along.

“Yo boss,” Jacy whispered. “Have you noticed that all of the princesses aren’t here? All I’ve seen was the magister, some members of the jury and a couple of servants. Where have all the pretty princesses gone!?”

The boss was a big beefy man, so it wasn’t a surprise that when he punched Jacy in the face, he staggered backwards and landed on his bottom.

“Hey what was that for?”

“For being distracted when we have treasure to steal,” the boss replied with a nasty grin, showing his stained and crooked teeth. “Forget about them for now, go get changed.”

I know there are no other royal spots which is all you want but is there a spot that I can possibly be?

There are plenty of maid spots open

[[Plus other court officials, generals and such.]]

Saffron

Saffron stood in front of her mirror, brushing out her short hair, straightening her uniform, and making sure her bow was in place. Just as she was pulling out the last of the wrinkles, she heard Marie come in.

"We have to hurry and get down to the assembly," She said quietly. "If we're not there in..." She looked at the clock. "...Five minutes, we're to be fired."

Saffron gave one last look over in the mirror, and hurried after Marie. However, Marie was very well trained in these platform shoes they were required to wear. Saffron? Not so much. Shortly down the hall, Saffron tripped and fell flat on her face. She could already feel the blush coming on when she looked up, to find that there were feet in front of her. She slowly ran her gaze up his body, taking in the dragon-skin vest, a black bandanna, and an unusual looking belt, filled with knives, screwdrivers, and clips.

Last but not least was his face. It was angular, but in a soft sense. His eyes were hazel, and had a sparkle to them. When he met her gaze she looked down. He was gorgeous. Her face got even hotter, and she dared to look back up. This time, he had his hand offered to her.

"Looks like you took quite a fall there." He chuckled.

His voice was smooth and sweet, like honey. Saffron took his hand gingerly, and allowed him to pull her up.

"Thanks," She said quietly, in almost a whisper. "I've not yet gotten used to these shoes." He looked down at her navy blue shoes, and slowly ran his eyes back up to her face, his gaze pausing at her chest.

Was it possible for her to blush any redder? She didn't think so, but she was corrected when her face turned yet another ten degrees up.

Her eyes held his gaze for what could have been a second, a minute, or an hour, but when her eyes finally broke away and found a clock, she had two minutes to get to the assembly. Panicking, she muttered, "I have to go..." And hurried off.

"Wait! Miss!" He called. "I didn't catch your name! Mine's Jacy..." He trailed off.

"Saffron!" She said over her shoulder loud enough for him to hear.

As Saffron went down the corridor and made it to the stairwell, she could feel his gaze on her, burning a hole through her back, and never letting off until she was out of sight.

I'll be a maid

Name: Valarie Heir

Age: 18

Appearance:

Personality: Valarie is normally quiet, but that's usually because she's listening. She believes in honesty and the truth and will hardly ever lie. Most people like her because she listens so well. She's very content with her life and she wouldn't want to give it up. But she also enjoys teasing and taunting people. She can get very defensive and protective too. She also likes testing people for their reactions

History: Valarie's mother used to work here as a maid before she became ill and died. But since Valarie would follow her mother around she knew what and how to do things, so she took her mother's place. This happened when she was about 13.

Other: Skills-Listening, cleaning, honesty, she's an amazing cook, and she's very good at singing. Weaknesses-She has trouble lying, and she can't help but over hear things. Likes-Singing, cooking, her life, her mother, listening, being honest. Dislikes-Lying, forgetting, the rivalry going on but she won't show it.
Secrets-What ever she's told to keep a secret will remain a secret

Valarie:

Though no one would have noticed my absence I ran down the hall to the assembly. I spotted a man standing there with his gaze on a woman's back. Pausing at his side I patted his cheek "Now what would a boy like you be doing looking at a girl like her? If you ask me you'd be much better with someone else. Like me perhaps." With that i planted a kiss on his cheek and continued running down the hall, looking back only to see his expression.

I got to the assembly just a second before it started, thankfully.

Post deleted.

**Sorry I'm late, guys. Will post this then finalise Derrick's profile. **

Derrick.

No, Derrick decided, regarding his reflection with a practised eye, I'll leave the hat. He set the purple cap adorned with feathers down on the desk and sighed. This assembly was proving to be some trouble - at least more than he'd bargained for. Firstly, and most superficially, there was the issue of what he should wear: nothing too flamboyant, yet nothing too sober; he didn't want to appear unsuitable for the role, but he also didn't want to seem inordinately eager either - it would be improper. Derrick closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. If his attire was the least of the troubles pressing down on him tonight, then perhaps the evening wouldn't seem like such a large trial. Yet, there were more pressing issues that nagged at him.

Like his siblings - Arianna especially. Derrick had always felt uneasy around Arianna. He could never tell what she was thinking, but he usually assumed it was something disdainful about the way he handled a weapon in an ungainly manner, or stumbled over passages in text she read with ease. And then, he had taken the crown from her grasp, when all thought that she held it too tightly to ever let go. It wasn't his fault, of course - he hadn't expected his mother to make him heir in the slightest - but he wasn't sure Arianna would see it that way. Now he was just something in her way, and Derrick wasn't sure how committed she would be to removing this obstacle.

There was a knock on the door, and Derrick jumped, then cursed as his elbow hit the table. Eyes watering, he walked over to the door and opened it to see Marie standing in the hallway.

"Marie," he said, smiling, shutting the door behind him and stepping into the corridor. "Since when did you knock?"

Marie shrugged and looked a little uncomfortable. "Well, you know, what with the assembly and all -"

Derrick cut her off with a chuckle. "Don't think about treating me that different! Listen, Marie, sorry to be terribly rude, but I really need to get ready. I hope it can wait, yes?" Without waiting for an answer, Derrick smiled at her once more, opened the door and walked back inside the room, practically collapsing on his chair.

This King business is more trouble than it's -

"Derrick ..."

For the second time that evening Derrick jumped in surprise and faced the intruder in his room. It took him a few moments to discern the face, even though it was a familiar one.

"Garis? How did you -" Derrick's eyes strayed to the window and he broke off. "Ah. Doesn't matter. Um, well." He gulped, and then stepped back, speaking fast as he did so. "I don't know who's paid you to be here - but at the very present moment I'd say that's irrelevant. What's important is that, as the future King, I have many more resources at hand than, well, anyone else! Surely a murder doesn't need to take place in this room tonight?"

Garis

"What's important is that, as the future King, I have many more resources at hand than, well, anyone else! Surely a murder doesn't need to take place in this room tonight?"

It amused Garis to see Derrick so flustered and all-but begging for his life, though he had to wonder when the prince had discovered his occupation... Sandor had probably told him. Garis knew he should be a bit annoyed at the bastard prince, but Derrick's knowledge of the matter simplified things.

The assassin stepped forward, menace in his very posture, and intoned, "That is usually the cue for me to kill my target." The threatening air completely evaporated as Derrick tripped over a chair in his haste to get away, sending the assassin into a fit of laughter. "Fortunately for you," Garis choked out in between chuckles, "you're a friend, so I don't mind being bought off. In fact, I came here to ask that you buy me off."

"Oh. Oh! That's splendid!" Derrick said from his position on the floor, looking woozy with relief. "Consider whatever you were paid to kill me doubled."

"No need to be so extravagant," Garis said, waving a hand in dismissal. "You haven't even heard the original sum, and I doubt even you would be willing to part with enough to run the country, with excess, for half a year."

Derrick choked. "Half a...!"

"Yes, well, fortunately for you," chirped the assassin, kneeling down to the prince's level, "I'm willing to settle for something less monetary and more titular in nature."

"You want a Lordship." Blunt and to the point as always. Garis really couldn't help wondering just how long the prince would last in the depths of court intrigue. But he was here to make a business deal; not muse on the future.

The assassin nodded, a friendly smile on his face. "Nothing too large, mind you. Just a keep and a title, maybe a village or three, all given as reward for services rendered."

"Done," said the prince without hesitation, extending his hand.

Garis took Derrick's hand and gave it a firm shake. "A pleasure doing business with you. Now," he said, pulling out the vial of draught and skin of blood, "it would be best for you to lie low for a while, at least until all this succession business is dealt with, and what better way to lie low than to be dead? Now, don't look at me like that. I don't mean actually dead. I have here a potion--" Garis shook the vial. "--that will induce a deathlike state in the one who drinks it that lasts three days or so."

"How convenient."

"I like to be prepared. Now, this skin is full of blood to make things more convincing." Garis handed the vial to Derrick and opened the skin. "Now, stay still while I dribble this all over you... And there we go! All you have to do now is take the potion, and when you wake up, you'll be safe from any more assassination attempts."

The prince looked at the vial suspiciously before uncorking it and taking a cautious sniff. "How do I know this isn't poison?"

"Derrick!" cried Garis, clutching at his chest in mock hurt. "Does our friendship mean nothing to you?"

"It's not me I'm worried about."

Hm. It seemed the prince was sharper than Garis had originally given him credit for. "Then rest assured that it is in my own professional and lifelong interests to keep you alive, especially considering what Sandor would do to me if he found out I killed you. And he would find out eventually. Besides which, I do have a reputation of never reneging on my contracts, and such a reputation is hard earned and hard maintained. I have no intentions of ruining it now."

The prince gave one last look at Garis and the vial before he sighed and downed the draught. Derrick winced and stuck out his tongue as he handed the assassin the vial back. "That tastes horrible."

"Yes, well that will be the least of your worries, soon," quipped Garis just before he sprang up and darted out the window.

"What do you--!" The young prince started screaming as his muscles began spasming painfully, and Garis could hear the crashing of breaking of glass. The prince must have grabbed onto a tablecloth or something. Oh well. There was no time to muse on the chaos unfolding in Derrick's room for the guards had rushed inside and were shouting for help above the prince's agonized cries. It was time to make scarce as only an assassin could.

And so Garis did, disappearing without a trace to find Sandor so he could inform his commander of Derrick's not-death.