27 . 8 . 08
I tried to update this yesterday, but the Documents page was blank. Obviously, that was a very large deterrent. So, I am here now.
Back to the story!
Disclaimer: Adorable lisps are not mine. Ceilear, however, is.
It was two days until the ball and Lilliana was fit to burst.
"This is not fair!" Lilliana said finally, all her frustration at being forced into excellent manners and prompt obedience inflating the statement wrathfully as she threw her quill to the floor.
Wet blue ink shone on the stiff parchment, half of her name spelled out in beautiful calligraphy.
"It'th okay, Linna," Ceilear said, swinging her legs from the high-backed cherrywood chair so her toes barely brushed the carpet.
"That's easy for you to say," Lilliana huffed, "they can't take your songs away!"
Ceilear smiled sweetly, the smile that made all the ladies 'ooh' and 'ahh' with its angelic (albeit sparse in the toothy variety) quality. She would be a beauty, that was sure.
"I know, but if you're – you are, my apologieth – good, you can have them back in three dayth. It ith not forever. And do not contract, Linna, it ith slang."
Lilliana didn't deign to answer.
"All decent?" a hurried voice called from the other side of the door.
"Yeth, thir!" Ceilear said, humming to herself as she pumped her legs faster.
Stephen slipped in quickly and shut the door behind him.
"Uh oh, her royal highness is in a royal temper," he observed unhelpfully.
"Go away," Lilliana said fiercely, snatching up her quill and dipping it afresh into the ink.
"Well, that's nice," Stephen said, visibly affronted. "Maybe I had better leave, for safety reasons."
He peeked out the door quickly, to make sure whomever he was running from was gone. Ceilear made a face in Lilliana's direction and slid gracefully off the chair.
"I thall accompany you, then. Linna ith being boring," she said, and they both started walking out the door,
"Wait," Lilliana said suddenly.
Stephen was mostly out of the room, but he stuck his head back in with a wary expression on his face.
"Stephen," she declared, a smile beginning to creep across her face, "we're going on a mission."
Stephen pumped his fist in the air.
"Alright!"
"I wanna come too!" Ceilear whined petulantly.
"No," Lilliana said firmly, "you're too loud."
Ceilear crossed her arms and pouted, but the two older children ignored her.
"When? Where?" Stephen asked.
"After lunch tomorrow. Here."
Ceilear burst into tears and ran out of the room, bare feet pattering on the stone flooring. Lilliana and Stephen rolled their eyes. Kids.
"Where are we gonna go?" he asked.
"Library," Lilliana said decidedly. "I saw a book in there the other day that really caught my eye. Besides, I'm sick of being good."
"Alright!" Stephen said, and they high-fived, both plotting the best ways to get in.
Carvin tried to evaluate Rose from afar off. She was sitting on a marble bench sideways, with her back resting on the castle wall and her feet propped up on the bench's opposite side. Her plain blue dress hung loosely over her frame, and Carvin noticed that she did look thinner, unhealthily so. Her face was also more gaunt, and her eyes flickered around the scenery absently, as if she was somewhere else.
"Rose?" he said, approaching her.
"What?" Rose asked, her head snapping up to look at Carvin, a panicked expression on her face.
"Can we talk?"
"S...ure," Rose said, scooting her feet closer to her.
Carvin sat.
"What's going on?"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Have you taken a look at yourself?" Carvin asked. "You're skin and bone! What's happening?"
"Nothing, don't worry about it," she mumbled, hugging her knees.
"I am worrying about it. Please don't make me order you to tell me," Carvin said, looking at Rose with genuine concern.
"You wouldn't understand," she said, shaking her head. "I'll be fine soon, okay? I've almost got it."
"Got what?"
"The answer," she whispered, her eyes looking beyond him.
Carvin almost shivered. The bright blue eyes were unfocused and eerie; she was thinking again. He put a hand on her arm to bring her back to the conversation. She pulled away with a jerk, a spasm of unrest flitting across her face.
"Rose, I'm worried about you," he said.
She forced a smile.
"Don't be. If you really want to help me, keep a lookout for a green book with a castle embossed on the front. I think Stephen took it and I really need it back, before anyone gets a hold of it."
Carvin blinked. That hadn't exactly been what he was expecting.
"Sure, I will. I'll set Gered and Aberforth on it, and tell Harold to check the library."
She smiled more brightly.
"Thank you, Carvin."
He nodded, not exactly satisfied with her answers, but he knew he wouldn't get any more out of her yet. He'd have to catch her unawares.
"I will go do that, then," he said, standing up.
She nodded.
There has to be a way, Rose thought, turning over in her bed and staring at the neatly painted wall.
But there's so much risk in all the options, it might just make him stuck there for good. How...
She turned over again, twisting the bedsheets. The table, chairs, and fireplace offered no inspiration. She sighed agitatedly. If there was one thing she hated, it was people in trouble who couldn't help themselves. She had a kind of weird empathy with them, and it drove her insane if she couldn't help them either.
But this was different. She could help him. She just wasn't sure how, yet. She noticed a stain on her carpet and squinted at it. How did that get there? It looked kind of like a butterfly, if you looked at it right.
She blinked. That's it! Heavens! Why didn't I think of it before?
She smiled broadly, briefly considering getting up and telling Carvin; he'd still be awake for sure. But suddenly, it hit her how tired she was. So, she turned over one more time and relaxed for the first time since the beginning of this whole mess. I can solve this, first thing in the morning.
Then, she was immediately in a deep, dreamless sleep.
Anyone want to venture some speculation? No? What if I offer some rich, warm chocolate cake with home made chocolate icing? I think I might see some ears perking...
Darth Chocolate: You liked it? I'm glad to hear it. As for telling you; well, a magician never reveals his secrets. --smile--
daring2dream: I'll try not to make it too cliché. Any cliché urges will be sure to be directed toward NAPAN, the only story I am trying to make a bit cliché. They really are quite horrible. Mean nasty soldiers. Ugh. Ah, yes. That's basically what I meant: anyone non-criminal. Thanks! I'm glad you're reading. Chocolate chip and oatmeal it is, with a few chocolate chip oatmeal cookies in there for good measure. Oh, no problem at all. I hope it helped.
FaylinnNorse: 4: Thank you! Insufferable old ladies are very amusing to observe, though I'm quite sure I wouldn't want to be one of their pet projects. Ah! You adore Faidn? Well. Read SHOE. He's the main character! If you've ever heard that side characters can never be main characters in a believable story, this story proves them wrong. It's excellently thought out, superbly written, and true to character. Romance? Faidn? Is that possible? Ha, there probably isn't. At least, none that's a rule to live by. Fear not. Yes, being lost is not my desire. I hope the list helped you. 5: I'm glad you like it, even if you don't get it yet. I completely agree with you about the cookies. It's a terrible, terrible thing to see the cookies from afar off, think they're chocolate chip, rush discreetly to the plate, take a cookie, and then realize that they are not chocolate at all, but merely shriveled fruit: a poor substitute. You are?! Fantastic! --does a little dance-- No, I don't mind chatty reviews. They look lovely and long on my computer screen, and it's always amusing to learn a bit more about my reviewers. Oh, I love it when things come together. It's very convenient, and extremely inspiring.
Mazkeraide: I'm sure I will... somehow. --smile-- Here we go, Jab is separate this time. Better?
EVA: Speculation! Huzzah! Thank you. Mark Twain's version of the story is, I'm sure, infinitely better and wittier. Ahh. That was a great book. Enough parallel plots? Moi? Goodness, no. Never enough. --grin-- You're not the first person to tell me Denise was a strange name for a dog. Hm. You love my plot twists, I love your reviews. We're even. --chuckle--
Thick and creamy home made ice cream to reviewers, with fresh raspberries or strawberries on top, if you like.
EDIT: Thank you, Clar the Pirate, for pointing out my typos!