Author's Note: Ok, so I'm not on a major, but I'm updating on a kind of regular basis :). I love having a job where I am free to write when there's nothing to do. I hope you enjoy this next installment. Oh, and I just have to gloat that I went to go see the musical Wicked last Tuesday and it was fantastic! I've been playing the soundtrack nonstop and can't wait to see it again!
Viole
"You know, I think I can get used to you being this Count of Castelloni," Dallet said, wrapping an arm around Viole's shoulders. "Free seven course breakfasts, horse drawn cabs complete with chauffeurs, not to mention the ladies that come around wanting to get a few minutes with you that will settle for 'the help.'"
Okay. Viole was so tired of Dallet talking. He was tired of everyone talking. He and Miguel were supposed to be going to visit Mother Dear. Viole had gone down to breakfast with the intent of telling everyone to enjoy their day, he and Miguel would be out, and had instead walked into court in session, ballroom style. The owner herself curtsied to the floor and led Viole into a dining room that had been decked out for "important guests." The fine china and silver were out and all of the dishes served were covered. They brought out roasted pheasants and soft boiled eggs in crystal glasses; breakfast wines with fresh orange juice and shallow dishes with lemon water to cleanse the pallet after each dish.
Gatty and Shesta were already seated at the table, overwhelmed and grateful for Viole's appearance. Guimel and Dallet were in the next room chatting with the maidens anxious to catch a glimpse of the Count. Viole had overheard some of the stupid things they'd promised in exchange for kisses. Dilandau had taken it all in stride by announcing that he didn't eat breakfast and escaping outside, probably to laugh. Jerk.
The ride down the winding cobbled streets that led to the manor was bumpy. The double horse team pulling the carriage was knowledgeable enough about the path not to crash into any of the large maples shading the trail. Viole sat between Dallet and Guimel, who insisted that Viole sit there, claiming it to be the best seat. Viole was not lost on the fact that several ladies watched how close Dallet and Guimel got to him. Jerks.
The inside of the cab was paneled with dark wood and draped with crushed blue velvet. The dual bench seats that sat facing each other were padded with feather-stuffed satin pillows embroidered with golden thread. They only fit three neatly, so Viole, Guimel and Dallet sat facing Shesta, Gatty and Miguel. Dilandau sat up front with the driver. He'd said something about wanting to learn to drive the cab. It was strange that the man could pilot any type of melef, ride a horse with the best of them and even fly the Crusade, but he'd never learned to steer a carriage.
They hit another bump so hard Viole's teeth rattled.
"I bet Dilandau's driving," Gatty said.
"What?" Shesta woke up. His eyes had been closed, no doubt falling asleep. "What? Why in the world would anyone let a new driver go through the woods? I want out!" Shesta parted the deep blue curtains covering the window to peer out. Thick tree trunks had them packed in tight.
"I survived a Great War to be killed in a horse drawn carriage," Shesta muttered.
"Oh calm down, you big baby," Guimel snorted. "We're not going that fast. If we crash, nobody'll die."
"Dilandau's not going to crash," Gatty said calmly. Always the faithful one that Gatty.
Shesta shot Gatty a look that was as friendly as Viola's good mornings. She was not a morning person. She wasn't an afternoon person either. Heck, she wasn't a person period. Witch-harpy-troll.
Guimel leaned forward and pushed Shesta back into his seat. "Chill." He then flopped back in his seat and steepled his fingers. "Soooo Count, what should we expect when we get to your pad?"
Viole scowled and removed Dallet's heavy arm from his shoulder. "We shouldn't be expecting anything. I was supposed to be the only one going to my pad."
"Hey, you were taking His Dethroned Highness," Dallet said. "No fair to leave the rest of us behind."
"You guys only want to be nosy!" Viole groaned.
"Well, duh." Guimel slapped him on the back. "It's not every day we get to see your castle."
"It's not a castle…." Viole ignored the look Miguel gave him. Miguel was hung up on the "prince" idea. Yeah, so his uncle did live in the castle leftover from the old monarchy days—he sighed. "Do you guys want to see the real castle?
"So you DO have a castle!" Dallet whooped. "Oh yeah! How about a crown and scepter? You got a Dryden get-up or a King Aston get-up?"
Viole shuddered, envisioning both monarchs and their over-done garbs. "Neither."
"Whoo! You have a get-up!" Dallet was fired up. "Dude, you can so totally knight me. I'll be Sir Dallet. That sounds amazing. Sir Dallet of—well, I guess of Astoria. But then again, don't you have to be "of" the place you're knighted? Would I be Sir Dallet of Castelle?"
"I don't know," Viole said, annoyed.
"Hey, just realized something, Castelle, Castelloni, this place is named after you!" Dallet crowed. "What gives? King Aston—Astoria… Van and Folken Fanel, Fanelia. Count Castelloni-Casetlle!"
Miguel rolled his eyes. "Dallet, is it possible for you to shut your mouth for one-"
"Nah, hold it Ex-Highness. I wanna know too," Guimel said.
Viole gazed around the cab to find all eyes on him. Miguel's eyes spoke volumes: Only tell them if you want them to know. But… we're your friends.
He sighed. "All right already, so this place was kingdom, once upon a time. My super great grandparents were kings and queens. Now it's Zaibach-land, and Zaibach had an emperor that didn't want to compete with monarchs, so that was that."
"Long live King Viole!" Dallet cheered.
"Actually… my uncle would be the king."
"Long live Prince Viole!" Guimel shouted, pumping a fist. "Sorry Miguel, you are officially usurped. You can be ah-ah—Frauline!"
"Frauline? What the-!" Miguel reached from where he was and punched Guimel in the chest. Guimel roared with laughter, vaulting forward and grappling with Miguel. Both of them tumbled into the narrow space between the benches where their feet were parked.
"Come on guys! At least act a little dignified," Gatty said, seeming more amused than exasperated. "We are, after all, in the presence of royalty!"
"Royalty that farts and burps at the table," Shesta said flatly. "Did you flunk princely etiquette class?"
Viole stared at his friends. They teased, but didn't look awed. In short, it felt like—well, it seemed like something that would be forgotten in a few days until a joke made it necessary to bring it back up. It was—
It was cool. No big deal. And he'd worried. Miguel was looking at him again, mouthing: Told you so. Viole grinned. Wasn't this the same lesson Miguel had learned months earlier? Nothing was sacred among friends, but it also meant that there were no other people that you could trust more to keep your secrets from outsiders.
"Does Dilandau know? Seems like something you'd tell him."
"If he does, I didn't tell him," Viole said with a shrug. "I only told Miguel."
"You two are keeping secrets now? Isn't that cute?" Dallet cooed. "Soon we'll have to write sad, sad letters to poor Heather and Celena to let them know that their men are consorting with each oth-"
Viole lunged for Dallet, getting him in a headlock.
Gatty and Shesta stared at the wrestling pairs on the floor and on the seat across from them.
"Royalty, indeed," Shesta muttered.
The cab slowed to a halt about 20 minutes later, and a disheveled Viole parted the curtains to peer out. He saw nothing but trees and shrubs; his stomach gave a lurch when he realized he recognized these trees and those shrubs. They were the ones his father and uncle had planted when they were boys. Father had played here, his future home when he grew old enough to marry, with Uncle Gian. They'd wanted to personalize it. While the fruit trees and purple blossom bearing shrubs weren't as tall or stately as the surrounding trees and shrubs that had been there ages longer, they symbolized home more than their elders.
A trumpet sounded and metal groaned as Viole knew the iron gates that sealed the manor behind a stone wall which wrapped around the estate and its grounds were being opened. The cab bounced slowly as the horses pulling it trotted onto the stone driveway that wound around a white fountain with a cherub centerpiece that spat water from "o" shaped lips. Viole and Viola had broken its wings off once, and Mother Dear had had them spanked. The cab stopped again, for good. The driveway led to the entrance. Viole didn't wait for anyone to come around and open the cab door. He pushed it open himself, before the startled old butler could reach it.
Viole blinked at the old man. "Carlisle?"
Tiny blue eyes twinkled in a pale, crumpled face. Snow white hair curled from his scalp, chin and upper lip, giving him the appearance of a kindly old teddy bear. "Master Viole."
Viole hopped down from the cab onto the driveway, ignoring the stairs. He threw his arms around Carlisle and laughed when the man reciprocated and locked him in a familiar bone crushing hug. Viole patted the man's back: Enough…enough… can't breathe…
Carlisle released him and held him at arm's length. "Well, look at you. Not much different than how you left, hm?"
If he meant rumpled and disheveled, then he was right. Viole self-consciously smoothed his hair down and straightened his clothes. Carlisle laughed; the sound making Viole giddy inside. This was the man who'd taught him—well, how to be a man. He'd been the father Viole lacked, and the only person Viole regretted not telling his plans to run away to.
The others fought their way out of the cab, all wanting to be the first to get out. Dilandau jumped down from the driver's seat; stroking the nose of the horse he was nearest too.
"Are these your friends?" Carlisle asked.
"Yeah," Viole said. "Dilandau, Miguel, Shesta, Gatty, Stupid One and Stupid Two."
Guimel and Dallet balked. "Hey!"
Carlisle twinkled. "I'm glad, Master Viole."
A cold feeling washed over Viole. He remembered a time when he didn't have friends, only Carlisle and Mindy and his-ugh-sisters. "I'm glad too. So, uh, how fares Mother Dear?"
He finally brought himself to look at the manor. It was the same mini fairytale castle made of milky stone with towers and purple and white banners. There were two shallow man-made ponds on either side of it filled with crystal blue water complete with pale pink water lilies. Dainty ash wood, foot bridges that Princess Millerna would probably find quite charming took guests out for a troll over the ponds and into the rock bordered gardens full of petunias, roses and tulips, all pink.
Dallet gave a whistle. "Er… I see where your sisters get their taste from. Very-emasculating."
Viole scowled at it all. "Mother Dear redecorated it herself." He gazed up to the second floor window to see a parted curtain. It closed before he could glimpse the face, but he knew who it was. Now that she'd seen him, there was no running now.
"Come on guys. I'd give you the tour, but Mother Dear has seen us, and she'll have a fit if we don't go inside."
Viole walked up the short staircase and paused in front of the extra wide double doors framed by white columns. The doors opened and two butlers bowed low.
"Welcome home, Your Right Honorableness." They spoke in creepy unison.
Viole cringed and "accidentally" stepped on Guimel's foot as he snickered.
Carlisle came to stand at Viole's side. "The Lady has missed you terribly, Master Viole. I'm glad you've come home to see her. Let me escort you to her parlor."
Viole sighed and nodded. He glanced back at his friends, eyes meeting Dilandau's. His friend raised a silver brow as if to say: I thought you weren't afraid of a middle-aged woman?
I'm not!
Viole gulped and closed his eyes. A feather light brush of soft fabric and the smell of drifting cinnamon let him know that Carlisle had stepped forward, heading into the house. Putting one foot in front of the other, Viole followed.
Home sweet home—Viole would find whoever came up with that nonsense and step on him with his Silver.
Author's Note: So-what's the verdict? Like it? Hate it? Don't care either way? Any way, let me know! Please review!