Chapter 9: Twisted Prince
"Aw man, I can't believe we got detention for being late." She whined to Finn as they walked out of Chemistry together.
"It serves us right for trying to enjoy your breakfast and then leaving it halfway eaten. We should have just finished it, and strolled leisurely to class, and we would have received the same punishment." He grinned at her sideways and looked down at the matching pink slips they had both been handed on their way out the door by Ms. B.
"Yeah..." She sighed shrugging.
"I guess you will just have to make it for me again." He winked.
She smacked his shoulder with a chemistry book. "What makes you think I am going to make it for you again you entitled little shit?"
"Simple." He had walked a few paces ahead of her, and now turned around to face her, walking backwards down the hall. "I will bribe you with access to my practice room."
Fiona's mouth watered. Well, that might just be enough incentive...
"Oh yeah, before I forget, where is Jake?" She said, attempting to change the subject.
Finn's expression darkened at the question. "I dunno, it's not like I am his keeper or anything." He replied briskly. Trying not to dwell too long on the subject. He was having such a good time today with Fiona. Why let thoughts of Jake ruin his mood?
Fiona could tell that Jake had become a sensitive subject with him. "Look man, I'm sorry. It's none of my business. You guys just used to be so close..."
"Used to be being the key word." Finn scowled.
The day progressed pretty normally. Fiona and Finn ate lunch together outside under the falling leaves without the aid of Jake to keep the conversation going. They were beginning to enjoy one another's company.
I don't see how we can't be closer after last night... She thought to herself as she waved goodbye to Finn and headed to her dreaded sixth period, Remedial Algebra.
I mean Finn is sweet, kind, and he doesn't make fun of me when I don't know which fork to use. Which is pretty uncommon in this place... She glanced down the hallways as she passed by a group of model-thin underclassmen. One of them had hair so white it almost looked like snow, and her skin so pale it almost sparkled. Her skirt was rolled up uncomfortably high, giving the passing jocks a nice view of her toned thighs, and her shirt was unbuttoned to so the top of her cleavage was very visible.
Oh brother...
"Have you seen that third year Finn around? Talk about hawt..." The underclassman said, putting particular emphasis on the last word while melodramatically fanning herself. "With those studs and ponytail! I mean I don't know why he doesn't look like that more often, he is actually drop dead gorgeous!"
"He probably doesn't want sluts like you, Icey, chasing him all the time." One of the other girls with black silky hair, and severely-cut bangs joked.
The blond turned on the girl, and if looks could kill, the poor girl would have been vaporized. The look the blond shot her was so intense.
"Well perhaps if I you had any boobs." The blond replied, looking the unfortunate joker up and down as if she were a piece of meat. "You would get more action like I do." She hissed. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, and storming down the hallway. The other girl, who seemed to be the unfortunate joker's twin sister, jogged frantically after her, not wanting her sister's transgressions to be passed on to her.
Fiona was appalled. Man, what a jerk. If I were her I would have... Wait, was she talking about Finn? My Finn? Well, he's not mine, but he is my friend. And Finn? Hot? What did she mean? Finn looks the same as he does everyday, a little shift in one's style isn't that detrimental, is it?
Her mind flashed back to the night before. Finn leaning shirtless against the door frame of the practice room. Well I guess he isn't too bad on the eyes, especially without his shirt on, but those girls are only interested in him because of his looks. They don't care about Finn at all. They are just using him. How dare they!
She began to quicken her pace. I really can't risk being late again.
"You're thinking about me aren't you?" A hushed whisper pressed against her neck.
She turned to face a smiling Marshall. She rolled her eyes. "Don't you have some love poetry to read?" She replied, waving him off.
He staggered back and pretended to clutch his chest in agony, no doubt making fun of Bernabon. "Oh. That was rough." He glanced up at her waiting for her reaction as she trotted by, determined not to be pulled into anymore of his hi-jinx, she ignored him.
He stood up, straightened his tie, and trailed her. Seemingly unfazed by her dismissive behavior.
"I can understand if you are intimidated by me." He said on a serious note.
"Why is that?" She stood outside of their next class period and glared up at him. Had he completely forgotten about yesterday?
He slid his bangs back with his hand, and posed like a model. "It is because I am so handsome. Most girls faint in my very presence. You must have a particularly strong spirit to have lasted this long in my presence."
She rolled her eyes again and opened the door to Coach Algebra's room. He sat at his desk, and looked up at them through small, pink reading glasses.
"Oh Mr. Lee, how nice of you to grace us with your presence today." He said, eyeing Marshall without the least bit of fear.
Marshall was trapped. "You tricked me!" He spat at her.
"And how is that?" She replied innocently.
"You should have told me where you were going."
"To class, where else?"
Marshall eyed her, but said nothing as they walked into the classroom, and she took her normal spot in the middle of the front row, it was hard not to be fully engaged in a class when you were the only student who showed up on a regular basis...
"Unlike you, Marshall." She looked up at him, setting her backpack down next to her desk. "I like to actually get something back from all the money my guardian pumps into sending me to this prestigious school." She gestured to the classroom, as if they were in a grand hall.
"Sit." Coach Algebra barked to Marshall, who was still brooding over Fiona as she pulled out a pen and notebook and ignored him. He glared at her one last time before assuming his seat in the first row next to the window.
"I will punish you for this..." Marshall hissed as Coach Algebra turned his back to them to being writing the lesson notes up on the board.
She nodded sweetly to him, pretending she had not heard him, and turned her attention back to the board.
The next twenty minutes where complete torture for Marshall. Coach Algebra took away his MP3 player, and his phone after he had tried to listen to them during class within the first five mintues. Insisting that it made him concentrate on the lesson more, but coachie wasn't having any of it. Next, he moved Marshall away from the window to look on with Fiona, since he hadn't done any of the homework, and he had 'forgotten his book' in the first ten mintues. And finally, this was more of a punishment for Fiona than Marshall, Coach Algebra had taken away her phone after Marshall had tried to take her's in an attempt to drone out the lesson, in the first fifteen mintues. When Coach Algebra finally released them from their studious captivity, he breathed a deep sigh of relief and glanced at Fiona.
She glared at him.
"Kids, I have to go make some copies for my next class, can I trust you to stay on target?"
"Of course you can Coachie. Fi and I won't get up to too much trouble. Will we Fi?" Marshall arched an eyebrow at her, refusing to break eye contact with her glare to look up at the dismissive Algebra teacher he addressed.
"It's not her I am worried about..." Coach Algebra replied as he closed the door behind him. Fiona broke her glare to gaze at the closing door. No, please don't leave me in the room with him!
She could hear the slow click of his heels become fainter as he disappeared down the hallway. She took a deep, slow, unsteady breath, and peeled her eyes from the door.
"So Fiona..." He began, his face hovering only inches from hers as he licked his lips, like he had yesterday against the tree. "How have you been?"
She continued to glare at him, and say nothing. Hoping that she looked more menacing than she felt. He smirked and pulled her desk closer to his, bringing their faces together. She struggled as he pressed his lips once again to hers, but this time, she wasn't pinned to a tree. She threw him across the room. He quickly recovered, and shoved his hands in his pockets, acting like nothing had happened, and strolled back over to her desk.
"Temper, temper, temper!" He jeered. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a nasty temper on you?"
"Only those who have the audacity to kiss me not once, but twice without my permission." She continued to stare him down as he walked closer to her.
He stopped a few feet short of her desk. "Oh come on, I know you liked it. You didn't seem to put up much of a fight that first time..." He shifted his weight onto his left foot, and smiled sweetly at her.
She blushed. He winked at her and stuck his tongue out. "Well, I do like them fiery. I think I will keep you."
"Keep me? You don't have the power to keep me." She spat.
Meanwhile, he had wandered over to their teacher's desk, and pulled out their confiscated electronics from the first drawer. "Oh really? Is that what you think?" He threw her phone to her, which she barely caught before it hit the ground.
"Yes. It is." She replied, dusting off her bunny case, and inspecting it for scratches and dents.
"Well, I have a little news for you, honey." He walked towards her, but she leapt from her desk, and retreated backwards. He cornered her, pressing her against the door, her only exit. His body pressed tighter than the last time, up against her. She moaned a little at his weight. "You can buy anything with money. Anything." He whispered sweetly into her ear. "Anything."
She met his gaze. "So you are going to treat me like Bernabon's family treated Marceline?" His eyes grew wide.
"If that is what it takes..." His response frightened her.
There was a sudden turning of the handle on the door. As quick as lightening they flew back to their seats. Fiona still slightly flushed. The bell rang as Coach Algebra opened the door. She flew from the room, wanting to get as faraway from Marshall as possible.
His words still burning in her ears. Does he really have that sort of power?
"Hey Fiona, are you okay?" Finn glanced at her worriedly, lowering his foil.
She snapped back from her thoughts. "Yeah dude, I am fine. I think I am just a little tired. I didn't get much sleep last night." She looked down at the foil in her hands.
"Are you sure? I mean, I just won two matches in a row... You just seem to be going through the motions today... Which is fine!" He added hesitantly.
"Yeah. I guess I am." She dropped to the middle of the mat they had been practicing on. "I am not looking forward to detention after school, I can tell you that much." She said trying to change the subject. I don't know what to do about Marshall, and I don't want to bother Finn with anymore stuff right now. It looks like he had enough on his plate with Jake and all. I need to be there for him...
He cracked a smile and poked at her with his foil. "So that is what you are worried about?"
She nodded, hoping her lie was convincing.
"Well you shouldn't be. Detention really isn't that bad. You just have to sit around and do nothing. Sometimes a teacher will come in and grab you to do odd jobs for them, but they only do that if they like you. Maybe Coach Algebra will invite you to grade some papers for him. You are his favorite person in sixth period after all." He chuckled at his own joke.
"Besides..." He continued, offering her a hand to help her up from the mat. She gladly took it. He pulled her up with ease as if she were as light as a feather. How much time did he spend at 'practice' everyday? Sheeesh...
"Alright Ladies and Gents, we are calling it quits for today." Mrs. Muscles barked. Flipping off the lights in the practice room. Throwing them into darkness, the only source of light coming from the partially-closed blinds above them. One of the thin beams of sunlight streaming across Finn's eyes, making them flash a steely blue. She stood, mesmerized by his eyes for a moment as the remaining section of the class raced for the lockers room.
"Besides..." He repeated in a breathy whisper. "I will be there too..." He smiled still holding onto her hand while helping her up. He looked down at it, and kissed it like a gentleman, his lips soft and gentle, not like Marshall's kisses at all. He walked away. His silhouette growing smaller and farther away as he walked towards the exit.
Glob... Her cheeks grew red. Thank glob I was in the dark...
As she stepped from the cool darkness of the practice room, and into the poorly-lit hallway, a strong hand grabbed at her arm.
"There you are." A deep voice bellowed. She looked up at her attacker, it was Pep, his dark hair slicked back carefully, his black suit perfectly ironed and without a trace of lint.
"Hey let me go Pep!" She struggled against his grasp, but he only tightened his already ironclad grasp of her arm, causing her to stop struggling, thus easing his grasp.
"Do not tell me you forgot about your appointment for after school..." He smiled sadisticly down at her, still holding her arm.
Her eyes grew wide. Oh glob, I completely forgot.
"From the look on your face, I am guessing you forgot." He smirked raising an eyebrow. "Its is of no matter..." He finally released her arm from his death grip. She rubbed her arm where his fingers had been, bruises were beginning to form. "I have already collected all of his assignments." He drew a piece of paper folded into fours from his inside breast pocket, and waved it in her face mockingly.
"Good now you can..." She started, glaring up at him.
"But I still must provide your presence for Master Schweet." He interrupted, resting his chin in the valley between his thumb and pointer finger, and stepping back to take in her current PE uniform. He shook his head. "Well that simply won't do..."
"Ms. Keadersen, why are you still not in the locker rooms?" Mrs. Muscles bellowed at her, strutting aggressively over to where she stood next to Pep.
Pep glanced momentarily up at the gym teacher barreling towards them, and then muttered "Sorry Love." to Fiona before hitting her hard in her lower abdomen.
All of the air had been forced out of her lungs, and she doubled over in pain as Mrs. Muscles approached. He caught her before she could hit the ground, and supported her. Wrapping one hand under her stomach, and the other over her lower back. She couldn't speak, Pep took the opportunity.
"And you must be the lovely Mrs. Muscles my Fiona keeps telling me all about." He smiled at Mrs. Muscles stopped in her tracks and stammered, taken aback by Pep's charm and good looks.
"A-a-a-and who m-m-may I ask-k-k are you?" She managed to stutter out after a few moments of uncomfortable silence spent staring at him.
He flashed her another bright smile, ignoring the awkward silence. "I am none other than Ms. Keadersen's family butler! Here, my card." He produced a small, white business card from nowhere like a smoothly executed magic trick, and handed it to the speechless Mrs. Muscles.
She gingerly took it from his gloved and read it as he quickly continued. "You see, my dear little Fiona here has some... personal issues..." He leaned in closer to Mrs. Muscles, causing her to blush lightly and whispered. "It is of a feminine matter, I hope you understand..."
Fiona glanced up from her stupor momentarily, looking horrified as Mrs. Muscles nodded knowingly and Pep continued. "So I must be getting her home. She really is quite a bit more delicate than she lets on." He held her chin in his hand and cooed at her, oozing fake parental protection and love from every pore.
"Do what you must. I will leave her in your caring hands." Mrs. Muscles waved at Fiona, unable to break contact with Pep's entrancing stare, almost as if he was charming her into believing his faulty story.
"Thank you Mrs. Muscles!" Pep winked at her, causing her to blush a deep pink. "And I must say, Fiona was not lying to me when she said that you were quite the looker."
"I neve..." Fiona began before Pep swiftly kneed her in the stomach with the same deadly accuracy of earlier, causing all of the air to escape out of her lungs once again. Mrs. Muscles never breaking from Pep's charming gaze.
"You see? Delicate as a spring rose. So I really must be going." He walked past Mrs. Muscles, still supporting Fiona with his arms.
"Well what about her uniform? Shouldn't she get changed before she leaves?" She called after the briskly walking pair.
Pep rolled his eyes and quickened their pace, acting as if he hadn't heard her. His snake-like charm gone.
Finn, now changed back into his uniform, was wandering out of the boy's locker room, rubbing at his damp hair with a towel as Fiona and Pep disappeared outside.
"Where was Fiona going?" He asked Mrs. Muscles worriedly.
Mrs. Muscles didn't reply. Only stared dreamily as the butler disappeared.
She didn't tell me about leaving early...
Pep pushed her forcefully in the back seat of the same black car she had met Bernabon in the pervious evening. She was beginning to recover from Pep's powerful blows as Pep took his place in the front passenger seat next to the driver and ordered him to drive. The car lurched forward, flinging her up against the front seats.
"Ouch." She groaned.
"Sorry about that." He smiled deviously.
She glared at him, and sat up and buckled her seatbelt. "No you're not."
"Yeah, you're right." He continued to smile before turning once again to face forward. "By the way." He turned to her once more. "I will not allow you to meet Master Schweet in such attire, I must have you change."
Fiona shrugged, trying not to be offended by his dismissal of her PE uniform. "Well maybe if you had let me change back into my uniform..."
"Not good enough." Pep interrupted.
"Then we can swing by my house if you are that insistent about it..." She continued.
"Like I would let Master Schweet see you in such... off the rack clothing." He sneered at the very thought.
"Excuse me, are my clothes not good enough for you?"
"They are fine for me, but not for me to present you before Master Schweet. His life does not need anymore ugly things in it..." He looked her up and down once again.
"That's it! I am so out of here! You can deliver the homework to princey yourself." She moved towards the handle to open the car door. Pep nodded to the driver, who pressed a button, making all of the doors lock. She scratched at the locks, but they did not budge. Pep pulled at a lever under his seat, allowing himself to adjust forwards and backwards with ease. He slammed his seat backwards, pressing Fiona between the two seats. She winced at the sudden pressure on her sore belly.
"Three things you must know about me Ms. Keadersen: One, I do not allow anyone to call Master Schweet by such a crude nickname. Two: I am not the most amicable man in the word, so I would suggest you refrain from causing me any trouble, and Three, I am paid too much to not do precisely what Master Schweet and his family ask of me..." He pressed the seat closer, making her gasp, she felt like she was squished between two quickly closing in walls. "Do you understand me? I am paid the very best, so I preform the very best."
She managed a weak "yes." with her last breath.
"Very well, since we now understand each other." He pulled on the handle, and pulled himself smoothly forward, so he was no longer crushing Fiona. She took a deep, shaky breath.
Who is this guy? And why the hell would someone as sweet as Bubba put up with him? Her mind flashed back to Cake's explanation last night. Well, maybe Bubba, I mean Bernabon isn't that nice... I need to keep my wits about me...
They rolled into a large garage, that seemed more like a automobile museum than a garage. Cars from ranging eras lined the edges of the football field-sized room. Pep flung open the backdoor, and pulled Fiona from the backseat by her elbow. The driver scurried out of his away as if he were afraid of what Pep might do to him. Although she could understand why, since he had heard Pep's threats in the car.
"This way." He said sharply, leading her over to a door the same color as the room. He pulled it open with the same force as he had used to open the door, sending it backwards and slamming into the wall. No doubt breaking the sheetrock
Man does this guy have a temper on him...
The door opened to a long, narrow corridor. The walls were painted a rich light yellow, and the molding was gold. Pep continued to drag her down the hallway, then suddenly swooped into a connecting hallway that looked exactly the same as the first. He zigzagged around several more times as they passed lots of closed doors. Some had numbers on them, others were cracked ajar, displaying a smoking kitchen with a heavyset cook with a thick, well oiled mustache, or a room full of blinking lights and wires. All the servants they passed scurried out of Pep's way like the driver had earlier.
"Where are..."
"You are walking through the servant's corridors. I do not deem you worthy of the front entrance." Pep glared back at her, picking up his pace.
"Are you telling me that were we entered wasn't the front entrance?" She gaped.
"You really don't know anything about high society, do you?" Pep spat back at her, disgusted by her ignorance. "Why Master Schweet would be interested in anything so... Low. Is beyond me."
"Who are you calling 'low'? You nasty oof!" Pep halted suddenly causing her to run into him. She looked over his shoulder and noticed that he had fished a large set of keys from his pocket. He jammed one into the keyhole, and quickly turned it clockwise. It clicked, and the door swung open, revealing an enormous room with a vaulted ceiling decorated elaborately to look like a map of the heavens. To her right, was a great staircase with a showy rug falling from the top of the staircase high above her to the doors to her left. It dwarfed the garage in comparison. Everything about this room was elaborate and over the top, especially the sheer size of everything.
"We do not have time to gape. Come." Pep grabbed her by her arm once more, and pulled her up the grand staircase, and to the left.
"CB! Oh CB! I need your help!" Pep called throwing open a random door, and pulling her inside.
Fiona gapped at the room she had entered. The room she was in was absolutely beautiful. The walls were covered in a rich deep red wallpaper with small gold flowers. There was a window on the far end of the room which was surrounded by velvety red fabric, a small warm lamp lit in the corner of the room served as the only source of light. Several units of furniture were placed into little alcoves along the wall, almost like a waiting room. A woman with rich brown hair, red lips, and a small mole below the right corner of her mouth stood up from her seat. She had a large bust, a small waist, and large hips. She wore a tight gray jacket with matching pencil skirt with a loosely buttoned white buttoned underneath. While she balanced her weight onto two seven-inch stiletto heels.
"No CB, please do not stand. She is not worth your time." Pep addressed her, holding up a hand.
She hesitantly lowered back down to her seat.
"I need you to make this peasant look presentable before she can see Master Schweet." He shoved Fiona in front of him, and walked briskly out the door. Leaving Fiona staring eye to eye with the woman called 'CB'.
CB smiled and looked up at Fiona through a pair of reading glasses, though she seemed too young to need them. "Don't worry. His bark is a lot worse than his bite."
Fiona returned CB's smile nervously.
"Now let's see how we can gussie you up for Master Schweet." She winked at Fiona, and clicked her way over to a pair of double doors, which she gracefully pulled open in one fluid motion, revealing a seemingly endless closet.
Cake would have fainted...
After Fiona had been scrubbed, plucked, dried, and scented to CB's liking, it was finally time to try on clothes.
CB stepped back and looked her up and down.
I am really tired of these rich people looking at me like I am a piece of meat...
"I have just the thing!" CB exclaimed as she scurried into the depths of the endless closet.
After several moments of her darting around, snatching different pieces of clothing. She returned to Fiona, now panting and sweaty.
"Try this on!" She flung the clothing at Fiona, who caught most of it, and disappeared behind the changing curtain. It was a positively pink polka dotted dress with white wedges. She slipped it on. It fit like a glove.
This is what Cake must be talking about when she says some clothing just feels 'right'...
She stepped out where CB was waiting. CB squealed with delight. "I knew it would look good on you!" She tugged Fiona over to a decked out makeup station complete with a lighted mirror and the works.
CB chatted cheerfully as she applied light makeup and styled her hair into a soft curl.
"I am the live-in stylist incase you were wondering what I do here..." CB continued to chat away.
Fiona's mind wandered to thoughts of Bernabon. Can I face him after learning what he has done? Can I trust this twisted prince?
"Are you ready to see the finished 'you'?" CB asked playfully, making her last touches with dusts of hairspray to her curls. Fiona nodded, and CB swung her around. She gasped.
"I look like something out of one of Cake's magazines..." She breathed, not believing her own reflection.
"Well it is my job after all!" CB winked. Fiona smiled back at her, a genuine smile this time. She liked CB and her quirkiness.
"I must admit Ms. Keadersen, you do clean up well..." Fiona looked up in the mirror. Pep was sitting on the couch behind them, leisurely sipping a cup of tea. He winked at her. She scowled.
"Is she ready to go now, CB?" He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly.
CB pouted her lips, and admired Fiona one last time. "I'd say so."
"So be it." Pep replied. Placing his tea cup on its saucer, and then silently placing it on a tea tray.
"Come Ms. Keadersen, we have made Master Schweet wait long enough."
She said nothing, but got up from her chair as Pep solemnly opened the door for her.
CB grabbed her hand as she walked out. "You are the first girl Bernabon has ever brought home, I think that means you are pretty special." She winked. "I dressed you in his favorite colors, may that bring you luck." She kissed Fiona's cheek, and scurried away before Pep could yell at them for wasting time.
More winding hallways, and they finally arrived at the entrance to Bernabon's quarters. Pep ordered her to wait outside while he went inside. She pressed her ear to the door, but all she could make out was Pep's deep, masculine voice, but not Bernabon's. After about five minutes, she heard footsteps nearing the door. She pulled away just as Pep walked silently out. He held his jaw tight, like he had been fighting and lost. It was hard to imagine Pep losing in a fight, but she liked the idea of it.
"Master Schweet will see you now." He mumbled.
She nodded, he opened the door for her, and she walked briskly inside the room, holding her head high.
What now?
