Young Writers Society

We moved out onto the balcony as the night grew older and the guests began to get intoxicated. We were heading toward a drunken stupor ourselves; but at a slower pace than our elders.

"Watch, now." Wyl chastised, his words slurred as I leaned over the balcony's rail and looked way down, at the ground so far below us. A single guard walked below us, swift and silent, a dog's leash in his hand. His dog was a large hound, brown with black splotches, snuffling loudly, its nose to the ground.

"Mm." I wasn't very drunk. Yet. I sighed lazily as I turned to lean on the railing, looking up at Wyl. "You worry too much."

"You don't worry enough."

Just drunk enough to enjoy the pleasant humming in my head.

"Here, here." Char agreed, tipping his head way back to drink the last of his wine as he slumped against the banister, to my right. "She's fearless...to a folly."

"Death before..." I frowned. Just enough to make one forgetful. "Before...a cowardly life."

Not drunk enough to stop me from improvising.

"That's not how that saying goes." Of course Char would be the one to point out my mistake.

I narrowed my eyes, swinging my head around to glare at him. "Shh."

"No, he's right...isn't it something to do with....with..."

"You're both drunk." I waved my hand dismissively, turning once more, to look at Wyl.

"I am not." The words were barely out of his mouth before he lost his balance and sagged against the banister, clinging to the railing for dear life. "...Well you are too."

"At least my world still stays put." A slight bluff. My world was swaying to and fro, gently, slowly, like a ship rocking in the bay.

"Your world...won't be so steady...if a war breaks out, 'cause of you." Char hiccuped.

"Mm...it's not likely." At least...I wouldn't fight a war over me. I'd pick a truly desirable girl, if I was going to pick any... and Fania is far more ladylike than I am, Aslynn is prettier, and Lessi is twice as fashionable. If the Niapians, and everyone else, were smart, they'd just wait a few years, until the girls are old enough to be married.

"Pff."

Of course, they wouldn't. They were too impatient to wait for proper ladies. To prideful to let their offer for my hand be declined. They were going to start a fight. I only hoped it wouldn't be a proper war. "Hm..."

"It wouldn't concern you, would it?" Char was drunk. He didn't mean that. I shouldn't even validate his comment with an answer.

"It does too concern me." I couldn't help myself. "If there was a war, then it would worry me, and I'd fight in it."

"You wouldn't last a week."

"Would too." I crossed my arms, glaring at him. He's drunk. I tried to remind myself. I was still getting angry.

"Nah, you'd just find a way to get yourself in charge, and then you'd be able to end the whole thing in a week." Wyl smiled at me, obviously trying to diffuse the fight.

"She'd just kill 'em all..." Char muttered.

"And let God sort 'em out." I finished, grabbing a goblet from a tray that a slave girl was carrying by, glaring. "Simple as can be. Flank, slaughter, finished."

"Pff, you always say a flank."

"Because it's always the best choice."

"You always say that too." Wyl laughed, looking between us. "Come on, guys, I don't see why we're arguing about this. Again."

"Because she won't...admit... that the best strategy is physical determents." Char was starting to look slightly green in the face. "Make pits, fences...use catapults...hot oil. Moats. Anything-- just don't put your men out in danger."

"Don't waste all of that labor." I waved my hand, trying to clear his words from the air. "It would take weeks to make as many pits and fences as you're talking about-- and twice as long to fill them in, and tear them down, after."

"Bullshit. Just use the pits as graves."

"I'm not interested in any Niapians, let alone thousands of them, rotting in our ground for all eternity."

"Then just what would you suggest?" I knew that look. That was the look the wine gave to announce it's reappearance. I took a step back.

"Flank. Slaughter. Burn." It was so hot, trapped in this damnable contraption they called fashion. I could scarcely breathe. I tugged at my corset as I continued, wondering whether Char would lose the contents of his stomach first, or if I'd pass out. "Let them march toward the city, then, BAM!"

Wine sloshed out of my cup as I swiftly brought my hand down . I sighed, disgusted, and set the goblet down roughly, flicking my wrist to rid myself of the wine. "Your soldiers pop up, and their army is attacked on two or three sides-- instead of just one."

"You are the most intolerable--" He gagged loudly, the rest of his sentence lost as he leaned over the banister and retched.

"At least I can handle my wine...and a sword."

"Darrana Karine!" A rough hand landed on my shoulder, squeezing tightly as it yanked me around. Suddenly Father's face, flushed a bright red, was glaring down at me.

"Fath-Papa!" I felt my words were slurred. I couldn't help it. "I-ah-uh...Hi."

My stomach was churning. His grasp hurt on my shoulder. I couldn't breathe. And he wonders why I hate banquets.

"You insolent little wench." He spat. "How dare you? How dare you?"

"How...dare I...what?" I only barely kept myself from hiccuping.

His hand landed on my cheek. The blow didn't have half the force of the one he'd hit me with earlier. If I wasn't drunk, it wouldn't've even made my head turn. But I was. I was just drunk enough to have poor balance-- and suddenly the ground was rushing up to meet my face.

My head roared in protest. A sharp pain throbbed in my temples-- as if someone were trying to chisle a hole through my brain. It seemed they were succeeding. I grabbed my head with one hand, trying to make the pain stop.

Suddenly my world was spinning. The bright lights of the party inside, the raucous din they were making. A flash of dark sky. The ankles of pressed suits, the toes of polished shoes. The stone turning beneath me. I grabbed on to the ankles in front of me, as they went flashing past-- and closed my eyes tightly.

"You drunk little..." I heard my Father's voice, far away, yet still so very loud.

"I don't think that was really necessary." A deep voice. I should recognize it.

"Rana, are you okay?" The ankles moved as their owner squatted down, and someone stroked my hair.

"Yes." I grunted, refusing to open my eyes. I wasn't so sure if I was or not.I might've been dying. It was difficult to tell, at that moment.

"You sure? Open your eyes."

"I don't want to." I muttered under my breath, but obediently cracked an eye open. The world still shook and spun, but not with so much force. I carefully looked up, and saw Wyl squatting beside me, my arm still wrapped around his legs.

"There, it's not so bad." He carefully removed my arm from his legs, and gently pulled me to my feet. I felt another set of hands on my other arm and shoulder. "Up you go."

"Thank you. I--" I turned toward the other set of hands, expecting to find Char. Instead, I found the stranger I talked to earlier. The man with the startling blue eyes. I felt my eyes go wide as I looked into his.

"Are you alright, my lady?" His words were too sweet, his voice too kind. They seemed unfamiliar to him, even as he spoke; carefully keeping his eyebrows level, the set of his jaw neutral, concerned.

"Quite, thank you, my...lord?" I didn't have any idea who he was.

Father lifted his hand again. I flinched, turning my head to the side. "You insolent--"

"Please." The stranger stepped forward, forcing Father backward, away from me. "There is no need to beat the poor girl senseless. We've never been properly introduced."

"Mm, as you wish."

There was a moment's silence, as Father and the man looked at each other. The man lifted an eyebrow at Father. "Well?"

"Pardon?"

"I would very much like to be introduced to your daughter."

I inched backward, so that I could lean against the banister while we spoke. The world still wasn't very steady. I glanced up, and found Wyl standing near to me, his hand still on my shoulder, gently stabilizing me.

"Oh! Yes, of course. Forgive me." Father bowed, flushing. I frowned, slightly. It seemed that I was severely mistaken. If he could make Father back down, then he must be very powerful indeed. "Prince Synakrein, my daughter, Darrana. Darrana, Prince Synakrein."

"Oh." A prince. How interesting. I curtsied, carefully, looking at the man-- the prince-- with a new interest. I thought I'd met most of the princes-- all of the princes whose native tongue was Algnesian. But this man's words were only slightly accented, now. "It's an honor to make your ac-acquaintance, your highness."

"The pleasure is mine, Fair Lady." He bowed.

My stomach lurched, as Char gagged once again. I carefully swallowed back the bile that came into my mouth.

"And please, call me Esmond."

His name brought on a torrent of information to my mind. Small bits of overheard conversations, scraps of paper I found on Father's desk, the gossip in the kitchens and among the servants-- everything I wasn't supposed to know about Esmond, Prince of Grkreiua.

I shouldn't know that he burned the farms of men who paid their taxes late. I shouldn't know that he killed entire families, if their fathers spoke out against the Prince or his reign. I shouldn't know that his soldiers occupied the villages in Grkreiua. And I shouldn't know that he assisted King Zynyk, as he marched on Lytias and enslaved that country. But I did.

That knowledge, paired with his harsh eyes, kept me frozen in place-- my tongue unwilling to move, my lungs forgetting their job, my heart doing its best to desert, to run far away. After a long, strained moment, Wyl prodded my side.

I took a deep breath, shook from my thoughts, and nodded. "As you wish."

"I was speaking with your father."

What are you doing in my country at all? "Indeed?"

"Yes. We had a nice chat. And then, I realized, that he was the very same Lord Elstan that sired you."

You ought not be chatting with anyone but Lord Munen. "He is indeed."

"When I learned that, I asked for his permission to be properly introduced to you."

And he, of course, agreed without a moment's hesitation. "Oh?"

"Yes."

I felt my fingers tighten around the banister, as his hungry gaze flicked across my skimpily dressed body. I wished that Aldik was there. Aldik was the only man clever enough to be trusted with Esmond. The only man strong enough to protect me, should the Prince threaten my well being.

"Ah..." I gagged, as a sudden wave of nausea struck me. I slapped my hand over my mouth, willing my stomach to settle. There were a few things that I would dislike more than retching now, in front of all the Princes.

Char groaned as he slumped against the banister beside me, holding his abdomen with both arms, still looking sick. Prince Esmond smirked. "I see that you children have troubles with wine."

"I'm no child." Char lifted his chin.

"And you are...?" Esmond asked, condescension dripping from his words.

"Going to bed." I looked up, and saw the King stepping out on to the balcony. "He should sleep off all the excess wine in his belly."

Wyl bowed to King Kernighan, as Esmond and Father dipped their heads, acknowledging him. I stepped forward and attempted a curtsy, but lost my balance. Wyl and Esmond quickly, easily, caught my arms and set me back on my feet.

"Thank you." I murmured, rubbing my stomach, wishing it would stop hurting.

"It seems like you ought to head that way as well."

"Yes, My King." I nodded, but stopped as it hurt my head. He stepped backward, gesturing for me to walk back inside. I took a wobbly step towards the main hall, and another, then put my hand out to catch the wall.

Wyl stepped forward, offering me his strong arm. I grabbed his arm tightly, the only steady thing in my entire bloody life tonight, and let him support most of my weight as I stumbled toward the door. Char was on my other side in an instant, holding my other arm.

"Don't...don't you try to help me." I frowned at him. "You're drunker than...than I am."

"I'm sicker." He corrected. "But you are most certainly drunker than I am."

"Mm." I considered his words a moment. He was probably right. As usual.

As soon as they got me through the first set of doors, out of the public eye, Wyl paused to lace his arm under my arms. He practically carried me down the next hallway.

~

"Prince Kernighan, Prince Blaylock, Lady Elstan." I lifted my head off Wyl's shoulder, in time to see Lord Menan finish a bow.

"Lord Menan." Wyl nodded. "I'd bow, but I'm afriad my arms are a bit too full at the moment."

"Yes, so I see." He smirked. "And just what are you doing, Rana, filling Wyl's arms?"

I lifted a shoulder. "Char's too drunk to carry me."

He'd tried. My legs gave out, and Char decided he'd carry me the rest of the way to my rooms. He managed to carry me down the a bit of a hallway, and a third of the way up the stairs, before he lost his balance-- and the two of us went tumbling back down.

"I wasn't sure that her tumbling down the stairs again would be a good idea." Wyl supplied. "So I volunteered."

"Ah." Aldik smirked at me. "So you're too drunk to carry yourself, then?"

"I..." I was. I nodded, slowly. "Yep."

"That's not very becoming of a young lady." He chastised gently.

It doesn't matter what I do. I can't beat the suitors off. Now I'm pretty sure that even that brute-- "Esmond."

"Pardon?"

"Esmond Synakrein. He's here. In the palace."

"I know."

"This is bad. Very bad." I stated. I wasn't sure why he wasn't getting upset. Maybe he didn't hear me properly. "Esmond Synakrein is here. In Algnes."

"I'm aware, but I thank you for alerting me."

I stopped, frowning. "That's bad."

"It is."

"Make him leave."

"I can't do that." Aldik scoffed. "I'm War Chief, not monarch."

I frowned. "You can't do anything?"

"Not and keep things peaceable." He shook his head. "Believe me. I'm no happier about him being here than you are."

"Hm..." I wished my head would stop humming. It felt nice, but made it impossible to catch hold of my thoughts. They floated around, dancing just beyond my reach, taunting me.

"Go to bed, Miss Elstan. Sleep the wine off." Aldik patted my cheek gently. "Who knows? Prince Synakrein may be gone in the morning."

"I hope so." I pouted, as Wyl started toward my room once more.