Chapter 10: Change
Only a week had passed since Alexey began his journey to Crystal Valley, yet nearly all of Harmonia had heard of his return. Faithful followers, people who had once found Bishop Alexander their spiritual leader, began their pilgrimages to the areas where he was reportedly seen. People prayed, cried, and praised the One Hero for resurrection of their beloved priest. There was something about Alexander that made the people feel cleansed of their sins. No one understood how it happened, maybe it was his voice or his kindness, but all good people, those who had been wronged, found themselves demanding Alexander's presence. So once the day of the sabbath came, the churches became full to the brim with attendence. Temple guards, soldiers, farmers, merchants, people from every walk of life, flocked to mass. They prayed intensely for the blessing of Alexander's presence.
Bishop Mitchel, however, vehemently denounced the "so-called Alexander" as an imposter, a criminal who used the good name of the Healer Bishop to lure away faithful Harmonians. He reminded all that resurrections were the work of evil. His fervent vituperation were spiteful and nasty. He throuroghly convinced many that the sightings of Alexander were mere hoaxes, like the fake Flame Champion.
It was because of the mixed excitment surrounding himself that Alexey was sporting the thick and warm Zexen cloak and throwing a low hood over his head. He brought two horses, one for himself and Jeane.
Jeane still had the scandalous slits in the sides of her legs. Alexey had somehow hoodwinked her into a Calerian woman's shroud for her face. However, Jeane insisted on leaving a good portion of her upper chest bare, showing off much of her assets.
The two had been traveling around the towns near Caleria, or more appropriately, the Harmonian settlements that were within two days of riding. That distance was considered short enough for Alexey to utilize his near-undetectable teleportation ability without straining himself too much. They searched those towns, looking for people whose names were given by Mitchel. Normally that consisted of Alexey casually breaking and entering private homes, digging through personal notes, occasionally confronting the said people, then leaving suddenly without explanation. Jeane sometimes accompanied Alexey on his excursions. She was the watch, the trapper, the chilling smiling sorceress who never had to resort to real show of power. Other times, she simply indulged in the ordinary luxuries of baths and shopping. She had the potch, the time to spare, and a city full of merchants and service. She was not held to great responsibilities like him, she was not stupid enough to land herself into position of power.
That was the general things for the past week.
For now, they were riding up the snowy mountain path to Le Buque. Alexey had borrowed (indefinitely) two mottle mares for himself and Jeane. The weather had turned even cooler since the passing of mid-autumn. Rain and snow, some of the very last moisture from the western sea, was falling lightly against their hoods and shoulders. The mares trudged slowly through the icy slush, careful not to lose their footing. These beasts did not have bridles to direct them, but seemed to be guided by some higher force not to trot off the treacherous ridges that railed the paths of Mount Senai.
Jeane yawned, feeling a little bored since Alexey ignored her for most of the past evening and this morning. He snuck off for one of his private visits late last night. When he came back, he sat at a desk and wrote several letters. Many nasel birds would crowd around the windowsill, near his desk, all waiting for the letter. Sure, nasel birds could deliver messages by repeating the verbal message, but these were wild nasel birds. Once done writing, Alexey took his mandatory three hour nap. After that, he made their breakfast and set off, never speaking a word.
She did entertain herself during that time, though, with several of the items that Alexey had nonchalantly pilfered. Jewels, gems, runes and rings were among the many things he had garnered from unsuspecting aristocrats and merchants. The jewelry adorned her black-gloved fingers beautifully. The runes he took were all rare, mostly ones that granted a special ability or were themselves a higher-class elemental rune. The rings were typically magically imbued, increasing one's affinity for certain elements. Not that Jeane would ever need it, since there was more than enough runic power between the two of them to dispose of an army. No. these trinkets would be pawned later for money.
"Hey, what are you up to?" asked Jeane at some point. She sat on a plush but secure saddle, her legs swung to one side, trailing about three yards behind him.
"Having a short Waking Dream." Thousands upon thousands of voices all speaking the same words drifted into Jeane's mind like echoes in a cave.
Surreptitiously, Jeane smiled under her shroud. That had to be the reason why he had kept silent since morning. Leave it up to him to still function when performing a divination that easily caused a lesser magician to suffer mouth-foaming fits. Besides Leknaat, he had always been the best seer. "Hum..." she almost giggled. "Anything interesting?"
Alexey shrugged and blinked, banishing the visions and voices. "When are visions of the future not interesting?" he queried back with a hint of exasperation. His patience was wearing thin from too many things. He had slept less than usual, and pushed his awareness to the extreme. There was not a moment when he was not in complete control of a situation. He was constantly analyzing all aspect of his surroundings, completely wary of any stranger's motives. An archbishop certainly could not afford many petty mistakes like misreading the intentions of men. Plus, all his efforts had resulted only in a sick sinking feeling and even more speculation. Then in his desire for more certainty, he invoked a skill that he had not utilized for over a decade.
"Hehe. You are dodging the implied question," commented Jeane. She had noticed his faint but detectable drift toward irritation, but that did not concern her. His problems were his and not hers. She even considered her presence as a favor to him. "I want to know what exactly you see."
"If you wonder so much, then take a look for yourself," said Alexey in a airily way that could easily infuriate a normal person. He continued on, without any reaction to the barely noticable narrowing of Jeane's eyes. "You know how," he said, then pursed his lips, "...unless, you are afraid."
"Of going mad?"
"No. Of caring," said Alexey cryptically. "Of putting your soul in danger of feeling anything for them."
"Ah...But I do care. I just don't take things as personally as you do. Most of them don't deserve our concern." There was a momentary pause where Jeane smiled knowingly. "I know you harbor the same disposition."
"Are you sure?" challenged Alexey.
"Why else would you allow some of the greatest of Gatherings attended only by a mediocre wind mage?" asked Jeane. Traces of her usually whimsical personality completely disappeared. "He was unfriendly, barely cooperative, a child demi-god with a deranged sense of his own wisdom and importance. He nearly killed McDohl before his time, almost refused to assist Riou, and tried to destroy Harmonia using a failed technique. Had you cared enough, you could had easily disposed of him and take his place as a star."
Alexey snorted. "But those Gatherings succeeded, did they not? The amount of effort means nothing to the fates. You understand this too. When was the last time you were willing to go on a potch-making trip for someone?"
Jeane's expression grew thoughtful. "Hum...I think it was with that half-blooded child...what's his name?"
"Kyril," reminded Alexey. "And he had to bribe you with fragements from the Obel ruins. I told him not to recruit you, but he insisted. Saying that "the others want her with us.""
At that comment Jean laughed heartily. "Well, I was a little more energetic back then. And that pirate Hervy was most interesting. Dario kept on drooling into his ale. And Kika, the most handsome and cool pirate queen actually enjoys my company. Not to mention I get some time with you."
Alexey's horse stopped, and pawed at the air. He stayed secured on his horse, keeping an errie balance that seemed to defy natural law. He glared back with icy eyes. "This is not a game, Jeane. What we do, the amount of power we release, even our mere thoughts can easily affect the coming of Armageddon."
Jeane's mare strolled to a stop, obviously unperturbed by another's creature's agitation.
"Let me remind you that I am not one of you. I just am," said Jeane with a disgustingly pleasant air. "And you call yourself better? What have you been doing these last thirty years? Hum? An errand boy for Hikusaak, then a homeless vagabond. What could you have possibly done during that time?"
"Atoning," said Alexey. "It's not something I expect you to understand. Like Yuber, you have forgotten what it is like to be human."
At that, Jeane laughed. "I hardly expect you to be preaching that to me, my dearest."
"Mock me all you want Jeane. I will never be like the others."
"Hehe. But you will. You have come too far. We are mere participants. Unwilling or willing, we cannot escape fate," she reminded him with a superior tone. "But I suppose I can't blame you for feeling somewhat indolent. You are the most disagreeable vermin."
The insult was there, but Alexey ignored it as he would ignore an annoying fly. He caught himself in his sudden anger. the show of emotion other than faint irritation was not who Alexey was. He glanced at Jeane.
The mysterious sorceress was grinning most triumphly. She had caught him.
Alexey growled to himself. Jeane had just tried to catch him unaware, forcing him out of the personality he created. He would have to return the honor at some point. Then, banishing those thoughts away, he changed the subject. "Did Miss Ayame ever wake up?" asked Alexey, as if their previous conversation never occured. "I never had the chance to see what had become of her."
"Yes," hummed Jeane almostly sweetly. "You shouldn't have pulled out that dagger and stuck it into her. The hidden knife under your sleeve could have easily sufficed. Your blood has caused her utmost pain."
"I was feeling a little peevish," he said casually. He raised his left hand in front of him then clenched forcefully. "I have been with it for too long. Even my blood is reflecting my mood." He looked away. "You took care of her?" He asked and almost hesitantly, he added, "as I instructed?"
Jeane laughed the same ominscient laugh, the one that gave the impression that she was capable of evil things, like slitting a person's throat while they were deep asleep. But at the same time, Alexey relaxed. Things had gone back to their normal nebulous standing. "What? Are you afraid that I killed her?"
"Yes," admitted Alexey. "She will be needed later on. I know your penchant for causing me trouble."
"Don't worry," said Jeane. "I had made sure that she went back to the Kage in one piece instead of several. The idiot Mitchel forgot the whole thing so he won't be sending any lackies to the Kage. And no, the Kage aren't the traitors you were looking for."
"Much to my dismay," muttered Alexey. He already knew they were not the ones. All he needed was one glance at people, and he could see their most grievous errors. It was one of the more irritating abilities he had developed over time.
The two rode on in thick silence for some time. Jeane hummed a native tune to herself. Alexey was quieted by his thoughts.
"We will be arriving at Le Buque in half an hour," said Alexey as they came upon a fork. "Be on your best behavior. Nothing to embarass me or trouble the Carna people."
Jeane raised an eyebrow and smiled. She could taste the possible mischief in the air. "...Why?"
"I owe the Carna people a favor."
"Haha. The world owes you a favor, not the other way around."
"Just do as I say."
Jeane crossed her fingers behind her back. "Alright."
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Lotty yawned.
She was sitting on a bench, underneath a lacy parasol in the front courtyard. The sun was about three-quarters of the way across the sky, still very bright and warm. The cool breeze from the sea felt comforting on her skin.
Lazily, she crossed her arms and laid them on a convenient picnic table, her head on top of her arms. Usually, by this time, she would start the preparation for supper with Rakasvi. It felt almost weird to be doing nothing.
Well...It's not my fault, thought Lotty childishly
Ever since those other twerps cames, she literally had all her work stolen. There was no longer any cooking or cleaning. She went to take the sheets for the softening soak only to find someone had already beaten her to it. Peeling potatoes quickly became unplausible right after dawn. The dishes seemed to be perpetually clean. The floor was clean enough to eat off of. Dusting was even out of the question since the fable white-gloved wipe came out unsmudged when tested in the most remote cabinetry.
Sure, she had no work now, but she was terribly bored. At least with Rakasvi, he would tell her legends of far off lands, captivate her attention during their mundane tasks with fascinating tales. Now, there was nothing to do but wait. A young woman like her had little practice in waiting and felt the misery most keenly.
Her father, Derek was having the time of his life, however. With his work also taken care of, he had all the time in the world to do whatever he wanted. He often went down to the kitchen and laundry area. There he would shamelessly flirt with the maids, both young and old. When he got smacked a few too many times, he snuck out to the Guzzling Dove Tavern for a good tankard of sweet ale. He typically had enough drinks to make him a jolly drunk by the time he came back. Fortunately, no one made it a point to inform Lord Redrum about Mister Derek's habits.
Miss Morgan's daily temper was deteriorating much like Lotty's. Except, instead of sulking in misery, she brooded like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.
Morgan was usually an amiable little girl that all fathers across the world could only dream of having. With pretty strawberry blonde hair, wide lavender eyes, and the most winsome of smiles, her looks had charmed the entire freehand staff almost immediately. The fact that she was Lord Redrum's only little girl helped a lot too. She was the very image of etiquette, always curtsying cutely and asking the staff if she could help them with their tasks.
Then her mercurial moods reared their unpleasant face.
The first incident with Lord Fraulein's son was considered as a freak accident. "It never happened. That little girl can't fight with a boy," said one of the staff. Then there was Sir Reed's bleeding and broken nose. He gave the nurses a personal testimony of, "I have never heard such exotic language from a girl!" Then PJ, bawling his eyes out when the doctors set the bones and used the water rune, swore that he would get back that "spoiled brat" for his arm.
Of course, the freehands were amazed. The cute innocuous-looking little girl who could send a full knight to a doctor but still quiver in fear of her father's mere words seemed oxymoronic. They all quietly gossiped amongst themselves, curious of what other surprising behavior the little girl could exhibit. They all guessed some other equally embarrassing actions, like having people look up her skirt or hurting one of the honored guests. Many of the ideas were outrageous, and sometimes laughable. The good thing was that Morgan never heard those comments; the girl was literally locked in the second-floor study with age old texts and dusty abbacuses for her misbehavior. Lotty hated to think what nasty pranks Morgan would sic on people if she was free.
Smiling a little, Lotty sat up. She propped her head with her left hand and her left elbow on the table. Her wrist jingled from the small charms that hung on a pure silver bracelet. Looking at the bracelet made Lotty feel warm in the heart. The bracelet was a symbol of Morgan's care for Lotty. Absently, Lotty reached in her shirt and pulled out the ring strung on a piece of fabric. She suddenly wondered what Rakasvi was doing. Was he thinking about them? What personal things was he attending to?
"Lotty," came a quiet voice from behind the young woman.
Lotty turned to see the same little girl she was thinking about.
Standing there was Morgan. Her hair was barely brushed and fell all over her face. Her pink dress was ruffled and slightly dirtied around the hem from running in the mud. Her expression was one of suffering. And once she saw that she had Lotty's attention, she quickly closed the gap between them and ran to hug her waist.
"Morgan," started Lotty. "What's wrong?"
"I can't stand geometry," moaned Morgan pitifully into Lotty's stomach.
Oh Yeah. Her punishment today is math...remembered Lotty. Lord Redrum was very firm in his decision to discipline his daughter. So he sent the little girl to solitary study from morning until supper. Lunch was supposed to be slipped in to her chamber through a slot in the door. Lotty knew this well because she was the one who had to fight the little girl's screams of injustice when dragging her to the study. Then Lotty was the same person who slipped her the cold lunch. "Um...how did you get out? I recall that your father personally locked the door to the study..." asked Lotty.
Morgan mutely pulled out a pin from her hair. "I picked the locks," said Morgan almost guiltily. She wrenched herself away and looked into Lotty's grey eyes. "You won't tell, right?"
That was not on Lotty's mind. She looked at Morgan incredulously. "And how in the world did you learn to pick locks?"
"Ra taught me..." Morgan caught herself. "Oh shoot. He told me not to tell anyone either..." She looked to Lotty again. "Can this just a secret between us?" she pleaded, using the most adorable and pathetic expression she could muster. Her lips even trembled as if she was ready to cry.
Lotty shook her head, unsure of what to make of the implied statement. Rakasvi was full of unusual talents and knowledge. She guessed that she should not be surprised if he taught her things like lock picking. "Of course."
Morgan immediately brightened. "Thank you! Now, can you play knight and squire with me?"
The young woman groaned; she definitely did not like to play knight and squire. Play house where they have tea maybe, but never the wooden stick waving like Rakasvi usually did with Morgan. However, she saw an escape just as soon as the mailman came and dumped off a wooden boxload of mail.
"Sure," agreed Lotty, trying to delay the inevitable. "But let's go check mail first." Seeing the reluctance in Morgan's eyes, Lotty added, "Rakasvi might've written to us."
Morgan's pale eyes widened visibly at that possibility. She was the very first person to grab hold of Lotty's hand and dragged her toward the boxload of mail. Before Lotty could say another word, Morgan was already shifting through the letters.
"Don't know this person...Don't know this person...Don't know this person..." repeated Morgan again and again. Her tiny fingers were nimble like a squirrel digging for nuts. "Papa...Papa...Mr. Derek..." she handed that one to Lotty while her smiling lips were rapidly drooping at the corners. Obviously, this box of mail contained many replies to the ball invitation, something that Morgan did not care for. Still, she was not discouraged, she had to make sure.
"Hey!" squealed Morgan in triumph finally. "This says Milady Morgan Anna Redrum!"
Now Lotty was interested too. She quickly put her father's letter aside and leaned very close to Morgan. "Open it," she said.
Morgan did not need anymore encouragement. She quickly tore along the side of the envelope.
"Quickly, read what it says," commanded Lotty. She, too, was excited that Rakasvi actually wrote to them.
"Greetings Milady Morgan," began Morgan.
"I hope all has been well since my recent absence. How is your father? And Miss Lotty and Mister Derek? And the party? Were there many knights? Has it even happened yet?"
"I am most miserable where I am now. It snows and then rains. When it gets tired of those two, it hails. The inn I stayed at had a straw roof when I realized that. So now I have a black eye and a cold. My suggestion to you, unless you have a good reason, never travel during the rainy season."
"I have met up with an acquaintance who is accompanying me on my journey. She is a relatively eccentric old woman with little regards to the personal comforts of others. On my way to Budehuc, she literally popped onto me in the middle of nowhere. I was really ticked off at her, but she just laughed at me for no good reason. Then she somehow badgered me into helping her move her rune shop. After a week, I still don't know how she did it. BUT! Revenge will be sweet, I swear it!
"Also, no matter what people say, I am not a bully! You see, before I came to your father, I knew this random kid named Mitchel. Well, I thought that since I'm passing by his place, it would be a good thing if I go see him, you know, to be polite. I was very nice too, I even scheduled an appointment. But he delayed our meeting. And after we met, he kept on saying means things about me, like "heathen! filth! foul demon!" He said that I give him nightmares and had scarred him emotionally for the rest of his life. I mean, I use to pick on him, but he did not have to hold a grudge for that long, did he?"
"Well, that's all I have to say. I will write again in a week. Take good care of your father and Virgil. Tell Lotty and Derek that I said hi.
"Sincerely,
"R
"PS: Remember that bone splinting technique I taught you. I suspect that you will utilize it soon enough, if not already."
Morgan finished reading with the biggest grin on her face. Rakasvi wrote to her specifically. Now she was no longer angry, but happy with him. Soon, he will be back and they would have all the fun times together again. No more boring solitary studying.
Lotty's mood was pensive. Why did Rakasvi write only to his charge? What about his benefactor, Lord Borus? And his boss Virgil? What about herself? "Oh quiet Lotty. He doesn't know that you like him," thought Lotty moodily to herself. Thinking about letters reminded Lotty of that official correspondence she found weeks ago. Where did she leave it? Probably in one of her aprons pockets. Since Master Borus was home now, she might as well give it to him.
"Oh! Lotty!" exclaimed Morgan, easily distracted as usual. "Look, there's Lady Chris!" She kept the letter to herself and ran toward the lady knight. Lotty, left alone, had no choice other than to follow her young mistress.
"Lady Chris! Lady Chris!" clamored Morgan. She sprinted the the entire thirty yards to the gates where Lady Chris was letting herself in.
The Silver Maiden was wearing a stiff-sleeveless royal red outer longcoat trimmed with silver. Underneath was a high-collared long-sleeved white shirt and comfortable white pants. On her feet were long black boots that cut off just below the knees, also trimmed with silver. Her hair was up in its usual bun and her lips turned down in her typical seriousness. She was still the captain of the knights, and her dress and bearing exuded her rank. The two squires attending her, a girl named Cassidy and a boy named Wesly, obediently followed her without question. These two wore the regular uniforms and armors of Zexen squires.
Morgan, though taught of the formalities when regarding the respectables, was not mindful of the procedural bows and greetings. "Lady Chris!" cried Morgan loud enough to wake the entire cavern of the Great Hallow before tackling Chris with a jump hug.
Chris was somewhat surprised, but she had ample warning with Morgan repeating "Lady Chris" nonstop. Chris received the little girl in kind, holding out her arms just in time to catch her and swing her upward. Chris twirled the little girl around once before allowing the hug.
"Lady Chris! I missed you lots!" declared Morgan as she happily hugged the woman's neck. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in like, forever!"
"I miss you too, Morgan," said Chris with her usual formal tone, but softer. She let Morgan down, looking down at the adorable little girl who only came up to her waist.
"Did you bring me a present?" asked Morgan almost immediately, utilizing the cuteness that usually got her everything she wanted. "And where's Uncle Salome? And Uncle Leo? OOo! And what about Uncle Roland and Mrs. Nei? Did you know about Ra? He's my new nanny, ya know? And Potch! Yes. Potch is my pet, but don't tell Papa, okay? I think he might get angry...Lady Chris?" Morgan started tugged on Chris's long coat. "Are you even listening?"
"Yes. I am," said Chris calmly, though she could not help but snort in amusement. Of the many who knew Chris, only one other was as upfront and demanding as Morgan. "And yes. I did bring you a present. Cassidy. Give her the box."
Cassidy, one of the squires newly assigned to Chris stepped forward. She was a fourteen years-old girl with dark-brown hair and equally dark-brown eyes. She stared at Morgan with obvious contempt, critical at how the small girl could ever act so impolite around the Zexen hero. Lady Chris deserved more respect, more dignity, more etiquette than that. Begrudgingly, She produced a brightly wrapped box and gave it to Morgan.
"Thank you," said Morgan. She received the box and bowed to Cassidy. With unrestrained eagerness, Morgan tore open the wrappings and pulled out a giant owl teddy bear that was about a quarter of Morgan's size.
Morgan examined the stuffed animal quizzically. She had many dolls, ones from all over the world, but never one in the shape of an owl. Suddenly, something clicked in her head. "Oh wow! This is the brown owl from the Island Nations, right?"
Chris blinked. She had not expected Morgan to know. "Yes...Yes it is," said Chris, still somewhat taken by Morgan's knowledge. The Island Nations were very far south, further than Toran and the vaguely dubbed 'Southlands.' The only reason the Island Nations were known was because of their spices that fetched astronomical prices when traded with the Grasslands and Dunan. The Zexen Trade Guild would love a share of the profit that were to be made. Chris came by this particular owl as part of a gift exchange between herself and Nina.
"Ra told me about these," said Morgan. She patted the velvet fur of the stuffed owl doll, feeling the extreme softness unmatched by any of her current stuffed animals. "He said that there used to be giant owls, bigger than a man, and people used to ride them."
"Sounds like this Ra person knows a lot," commented Chris.
"Yes he does," agreed Morgan with merry crescent moon eyes. "Oh! Yeah. You're here to see Papa, right? Sir Percival is here too, you know. "
Chris nodded.
"I'll take you to him!"
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Nina paced back and forth in the Guild Apartments, an extension of the Zexen Guild Hall. Her face was one of petulance and agitation. Here, in the red rays of a dusk sun, her blonde hair seemed aflame, the color of blood. The two attendants, soldiers who wore the tall coned caps, stood in perfect attention and consternation. Si'cham, the translator cowered in the corner in obvious fear.
Where the hell is he? shouted Nina suddenly, All signs say he is here!
Nina could not understand it. All those intercepted messages traced to this place specifically. She went through the trouble of drawing a treaty for the excuse to come. Then she endured the months-long voyage on a rocky boat. Worse, she asked for the Lightfellows, but the last descendant of that line was a brute, magic deficient girl who married into the Harras. Nina was looking for a man in his forties with affinity for the water runes, not some silly man-woman.
Why could she not find the legendary Prince now? She had followed all the clues.
Kal! yelled Nina.
Kal, one of the Obel soldiers stiffened to attention. Your Highness!
Tell me why he isn't here, said Nina. I don't understand it! All those signs! He must want us to find him!
Well... Kal was about to reply, only to be cut short by Nina.
There has got to be something that we missed! Even the stupid birds said that he is here as a civil servant. Nina's outburst softened. Where can he be? Why does he abandon his homeland in the time of distress?
Si'cham, the bald man with wild eyes, darted next to Kal, keeping a good distance from Nina. Si'cham had never seen Miss Nina so infuriated. She was usually so controlled, so refined, just as expected of a Princess. She stumped into the next room and slammed the door, starting to break things. Hey, whispered Si'cham to Kal. Who is she looking for?
The Prince, whispered Kal back.
The Prince?
It's the legend of the leading family of Obel, the En Kuldes, before the war between the Islands and Kooluk. They speak of a Prince, a distant relative of the En Kuldes who cannot die. History says that he was King of Obel from Solis 313 to 333, but he was so young that he took on the title, Prince. Her highness is here looking for him.
A man who cannot die? Si'cham had heard of stories about people who were blessed with immortality, though he himself had never seen an immortal.
Yes. They also say that he is a great mage and an unsurpassed swordsman with double blades. Then Kal's voice lowered even more. Personally, I think the En Kuldes made up the story about the Prince. I mean, if he's alive now, he would be over one-hundred-seventy years old.
But he is an immortal, said Si'cham. And why is she looking for him?
Kal looked around, making sure only him, Si'cham, and the other soldier were within earshot. Her Highness is being challenged by someone for the Obel throne, he said over the shattering of priceless china. Obel isn't powerful enough by itself, but traditionally, the person leading Obel utimately becomes the head chair for the entire Island Nations. That is what she wants and she is looking for the Prince's support.
Hey! whispered Solt, the other guard. Be quiet. Her Highness is coming out.
Nina came out of the room, looking disturbingly calm. My apologies, she began formally. I should not have lost my temper. When is the official signing of the trade treaties?
In two days, your Highness, said Solt.
Good. Pack everything. We will leave the night of.
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Author's End Note: Eh...School sucks...actually, school doesn't suck. It's the homework that sucks. I mean, learning how to design a floculation chamber is quite exciting. It's the actual ten page write up that sucks.
So yeah, this one wasn't beta-ed too well. So please please please send me a message about it.
Suikorin