Young Writers Society

His lecture quickly evolved from merely explaining the pendant and its effect on the war, to explaining the war itself, to explaining the reasoning behind the war. I sighed, brushing my hair out of my face, wishing he'd find someone else to harass.

"And, as you know, the Angorthian Tribes were the smallest in the land, strewn among the mountain ranges and..." I toned him out, until a sudden bout of coughing startled me, and I looked up.

"Are you okay?"

"Quite." He cleared his throat, coughing again.

"Oh dear, that sounds just awful." Maybe it'll get bad enough that you have to leave. "Perhaps you should get something to drink."

"Yes, a good idea. Would you like to a-accompany me?"

Hell no.

"Well, Mr. Ramar, I think that my--" Father wants me to stay with... Father's glare. I bit back a sigh. He wasn't going to be any use. "That sounds lovely, thank you."

He nodded, his thin, greasy hair bouncing over a shining bald spot on the back of his head. I walked beside him taking slow, deliberate steps, like a perfect lady. When we got to the food table, he poured himself several cups of punch, draining one after another.

Finally he sighed, clearing his throat. "Right. Where was I?"

Right between losing my attention and numbing my soul. "The Angorthian Tribes."

"Oh, right. I'm sure you know of Algnes's history." Indeed. "And how the Angorth Mountain Range was used in the day of our ancestors."

"Yes, sir."

"Right. Quite a cunning idea, if I do say so myself. Come, would you like to sit down?" He asked as he moved toward the table and pulled a chair out for me. I bit back a sigh and sat down, preparing myself for a long evening to come.

~

"...He marched against the Queen, rallyingbands of vagabonds and remaining rebels along with his troops, small insurgencies raising all across the land at once." I drummed my fingers against my cheek, sighing, staring at the edge of the table. I'd heard far more than I ever cared to about the Angorthians. Again. "Her Empire didn't stand a chance, after King Yimyrk outwitted her."

"Mhm."

Far more than I wanted to, about how Yirmyrk, King of the Angorths, grossly outnumbered, managed to bring the Queen's massive Empire to its knees. So we now have lots of small dictators, like King Makata and King Zynik and Prince Esmond, instead of one large, solidified hand of tyranny and oppression.

"You know, my great, great grandsire had direct blood relation to King Yirmyrk."

I started at a new voice as someone sat down at the end of the table, just to my left, and nodded to me. I'd never met him before. That much was obvious as soon as my eyes slid across him. He was tall and broad shouldered, with thick blond hair and chilling blue eyes.

"Good evening, Princess." His words were heavily accented. His voice a deep growl. I stared at him a long moment before I realized I should answer him.

"Oh, um, no, I'm not the Princess." I answered, slightly startled. Few people made that mistake. I was nearly twice as old as Princess Aslynn. I began looking around for her. "She's, ah, over..."

"Forgive me. I've never seen anyone as fair as you in my life, and assumed that you must be a princess." He took my hand and kissed it, as I stared at the top of his head, gaping slightly.

I couldn't get a firm grasp on one thought before another came to knock it aside. I'd met suitors before. Mostly young men who smiled too much and giggled when I spoke. Who tripped over their words, usually letting their fathers do all the speaking. The ones who did speak were never very eloquent. Except for Stanton.

"I..." How did one answer a statement like that? "No. I'm the daughter of Leikos Elstan, First Lord of the King's Scholars."

"And do you have a name, my Lady?

No. I'm just a child. I have no name for myself. Not yet.

"Darrana." I breathed quietly, unsettled by his harsh eyes that never wavered. He was too old to be a suitor. Too confident for my comfort. I could handle Stanton's cockiness. I knew that Stanton didn't have any idea what he was doing, but was trying to play like he did. This man didn't look like he was playing. He had the stance of a man who knew exactly what he wanted, and knew how he would go about getting it.

"A pleasure." He let my hand fall.

I quickly pulled it back into my lap. The pleasure's all yours.

"Did he indeed?" Mr. Ramar cut in, leaning past me. "How was he kin?"

I bit back a sigh. I dearly hoped that there weren't two of them. There'd be no chance of escape, if this man was as talkative and possessive as Mr. Ramar. Glancing up, over the head of the man, I saw Char and Wyl standing in the corner, chatting. Wyl met my eyes and quickly waved to me, motioning me over.

I glanced at the men on either side of me, then back to Wyl, gently shaking my head. I couldn't just leave. I had to find a polite way to excuse myself, or Father would hear of it.

"Do you need help?" Wyl mouthed silently.

I bit my lip. No. I canget away...I think. I shook my head again.

"A twice removed cousin of his mother." I wondered who the man was.

"Do you possess any artifacts of his reign?" Mr. Ramar was leaning past me eagerly.

"I'm afraid that most were lost."

"Ah." Mr. Ramar looked crushed.

"However, I do still have the ring that he wore when he conquered the Queen's Army in the Battle of Azir Pass, in the year 95 Q.E."

I could've sobbed. There were two of them. No, no, no, this is bad. Very bad. I'll never get away if I let them get me thouroughly entwined in their dull conversation-- I need to go. Now.

"Oh! I must see that some day!"

I must get away from you two. I glanced up, and found Wyl and Char shaking their heads, starting to turn way from me.

"You may see it now, if you would like."

I instantly leaned backward, expecting, correctly, that Mr. Ramar would climb into my lap as he tried to get nearer to the stranger. "You have it on you?"

"Indeed. I'm quite fond of it." The stranger stretched his left hand forward.

Mr. Ramar seized it and brought it close to his nose as he stared at the gem studded gold ring that was wedged onto the stranger's next to smallest finger. I grunted as his elbow jabbed into my side. He took no notice.

"...I do believe that you're crushing our friend."

"Mm?" Mr. Ramar asked absently, still staring at the ring, still leaning against my side.And you thought it was hard to breathe with just the corset.

"Lady Elstan." The stranger supplied, nodding toward me, over Mr. Ramar's shoulder. "You're sitting on her."

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Mr. Ramar sprang to his feet. I did too.

"Quite alright." I spouted automatically, decidedly refusing to rub my throbbing side, trying not to pant.

"...You needn't stand. I swear to be more careful." Mr. Ramar assured me.

I glanced up again, at Wyl. He was smirking.

"Actually, sirs, if you don't mind to excuse me, a friend is calling."

"Of course." Mr. Ramar's back turned on me as he slid into my seat, closer to the stranger. He frowned as the stranger stood. The man locked his eyeson me, and stepped foward.

"Until I can see your lovely face once more." The stranger bowed.

"I bid thee well." I curtsied hastily, not sure how I should've answered, and hurried past the stranger. He brushed his fingers across my skirt as he sat, pressing just hard enough so that I could feel his fingers beneath my skirts. So that he could feel my legs. I twisted away, never glancing back at him, determined to get over to Wyl and Char before I could get sucked back into their dull conversation.

I quickly slipped around the several small crowds of people that seperated my friends and I, and walked up on where they stood by a small table. I brushed my skirts down, shivering slightly, disgusted at the memory of his fingers brushing across my thigh. I finally crossed my arms and sighed. "I'm here."

"I was starting to think you planned to ignore us all night." Wyl said as they turned toward me.

"I wasn't ignoring you." I frowned at them.

"However you wish to call it, I was still parted from your lovely face for far longer than I--"

"Shut up and give me a hug."

"As my Lady commands." He grinned, bending down and wrapping me in a tight hug. "I did miss you, Rana."

"I missed you too, Wyl." I pulled away from him and grinned.

"You didn't miss me?" Char teased.

"No. You won't go away." I said playfully.

"Oh, harsh."

I lifted a shoulder.

"Maybe you should've just stayed with Mr. Ramar a bit longer."

"Maybe you should go talk to Mr. Ramar." I countered. I wasn't about to go back to that torture. I'd gotten lectured far too many times already.

Mr. Ramar made it habit to single out people who weren't engaged in conversation, and latch on, lecturing for hours on end-- until someone came to rescue them. In fact, Mr. Ramar was the reason Wyl and I became friends. He'd gotten me cornered and was talking about the rise of the Queen's Empire, when Wyl took pity and came over to rescue me from the lecture.

It'd been nearly two years since he'd first met me. Back when I was twelve. Back when suitors first became interested in harassing me. I was scared when he first took my hand and led me on to the dancefloor. Scared, until he quietly introduced himself-- not as the Prince of Lati, but as Wyl. He went on to state that he wouldn't be offended if I didn't want to speak to him; that he was merely trying to rescue me from a dreary evening.

"So what was he lecturing on tonight?" Wyl asked, pulling me from my thoughts. "The rise of the Queen's Empire, or the fall of it?"

Wyl was taller than even Char, and I had to look way up to see his face. "The fall, of course."

I glanced down, at the satin suit he wore. I couldn't help but wonder how it took me so long to realize that he was a Prince. He certainly dressed the piece. At every Dinner and every Dance I'd ever seen him at, he always wore silk suits, with jackets, ties, and kerchiefs. His shoes were always polished, his ink-colored hair always fixed-- slicked back and tied with a ribbon.

"King Yimyrk didn't have anything to do with her rise to power." I reminded him.

"Silly me." He chuckled, scratching the thin hair sprouting from his chin. "Not talking about the King would be a crime."

"You obviously haven't talked to Mr. Ramar enough, if you forgot that." I scoffed, giggling at the look I got.

"Getting introduced to Mr. Ramar was more than enough for me. I refuse to even think about the conversations we've had...if you can call his lectures a conversation."

"Come on, guys. We're all Nobles here-- let's act like it. We've better things to do than spend our time gossiping." Char cut, stepping between us, being the mature one. As always.

"Yes, mother." Wyl sang, smirking as Char glared at him.

"I'm not."

Char turned his glare on me. "Pretend, then."

"Oh, no. I couldn't do that. That would be out of line, me pretending to be someone more important than myself."

He rolled his eyes. "Because you care so much about being proper."

"As a matter of fact..." I trailed off, looking between them. "I do try and behave, when I'm in the presence of those of purer blood than myself, Your Highnesses."

"Shut up."

"Tsk, tsk, Charahk. You're a Prince. You've got--" Wyl started to chastise.

"Just be quiet and take your drink." Char interupted, pressing a goblet into Wyl's free hand.

"What? You brought him one, but you didn't get anything for me?" I sulked as Char took a drink from his own cup.

"I already have one."

"And he already has one!" I gestured at Wyl, feinting disgust. "I see how it is-- he gets two, when I get none."

"I didn't know you didn't have one." Char defended.

"But you didn't check. Did you? Did you?"

"Here." Char pulled the cup away from Wyl and pushed it into my hands. "Take it."

"Maybe I wasn't--"

"I don't want his--"

"I'm leaving." Char sang, walking away from us.

I giggled, looking up at Wyl, offering him the cup in my hands. "You can have your drink back."

"Nah." He took a drink from his own cup. "We wouldn't want you to go without, Lady Elstan."

"Fine by me." I shrugged, looking down into the goblet. It was filled with a deep purple colored wine, and smelled of sweet berries. I took a sip, enjoying the flavor, wrinkling my nose as the after taste hit me, and my throat began to burn. I never fully enjoyed my first cup of wine, but each that came after was a bit better than the one before.

"Think Char'll be back?"

I looked up at Wyl, then across the room, where Char was talking to our little sisters. The three of them were standing around the stairs, flocked close together, Lessi, Wyl's little sister, sidling nearer Char as she tugged her bright pink dress straight. She was showing more of her chest than I was showing of mine.

"If he can pull himself away from their...charming company." I smirked as Char taked a step away from the girls, only for an invisible thread to pull them after him. Lessi was deeply in love with Prince Kernighan. Please. You're barely ten. Char's nearly eighteen. He has no more interest in you than he does in Fania.

"Oh dear...Lessi seems to be making a fool of herself again." Wyl frowned.

"Nah." She's just a stupid little girl. No one expects anything else from her. "It's exciting when you first get to talk to suitors."

"Is it?"

No. It's annoying, to be perfectly honest. "Of course."

"You didn't seem very happy about talking to me."

I didn't-- don't-- like talking to people. When I was little, I got to stand guard around the food table and eat lots of cakes while everyone ignored me. You wanted to talk to me. Of course I wasn't very happy.

"Pft. I must've just been tired-- you did talk to me straight after I was lectured by Mr. Ramar." And you were a strange man that I'd never met before. I thought you were a suitor.

"You were scared of me."

Of course I was. You were already a man, and I was just a child. You have easily have eight years on me.

He'd be intolerable if he knew he was right. "I was not."

"You were."

"I most certainly was not." At least I wasn't once I got to know you.

"Liar."

"Shut up." My comeback, for when I had no comeback.

"You're so mean to me."

"Yep." I took a long drink from my cup, wrinkling my nose again as the wine burned my throat. "Guess that's why you ain't been following me around like the rest of the halfwits."

"No. That might have to do with your grammar...or your lack thereof."

I grinned. It had nothing to do with my grammar or my wit. Wyl and I were friends-- nothing more, nothing less. It would just be strange if he had feelings for me. If I had feelings for him. I drained my cup, coughing slightly, and set it on the table beside us. "My grammar is--"

"Whew." Char sighed as he walked up to us.

"The Giggling Rainbow catch you?" I asked, hoping Wyl wouldn't notice me changing the topic. I didn't have any idea what to say for my grammar. I had little excuse.

"Yeah." He grumbled. "I went over there to get a sweetroll, and bumped into them. Made the mistake of telling them that they looked nice."

He shook his head, sighing.

"Aw, you're such a gentleman, Prince Charahk." I made my voice high and squeaky, like that of our little sisters'. I daintily placed my fingers on his shoulder, giggling as brushed my fingertips across his suit. "It's no wonder all the girls love you so much."

"Yeah." He grumbled, shrugging my hand off his shoulder, stepping away from me. I smirked. "Something like that."

"My sister latched on to you again, I saw."

"Yeah. She took it as a personal compliment." Char sulked.

"You saying you don't like my baby sister's dress?" Wyl teased, smirking.

"Certainly not. Her dress is simply lovely." Char rolled his eyes, laughing. "I just..."

"You're good." Wyl took a his wine and set his cup beside mine. "I was just teasing. I wouldn't be interested either. She's a half-wit."

"All the girls are."

"Hey!" I scoffed. I am not a halfwit. "I resent that."

"I didn't mean you." Char said dismissively, waving his hand before taking a bite from his cinnamon bun.

"Yeah. You're not a real girl."

I looked between them flatly. I am too a real girl. I'm just not a stupid one. "Gee...thanks."

"He means it as a compliment." Char assured me.

"Yeah. It's the reason you can be with us." Wyl nodded, grabbing two cups off of a tray that a servantboy was carrying. He handed one to me. "You're fun."

I wasn't sure how to answer, so I took a drink from the goblet instead. As usual, this cup of wine didn't bite me nearly as much as the first did. This cup was softer. Easier to drink. "Hm."