CHAPTER 12

Tuesday, the 2nd of December, 2239

Henri Pemberton, Viscount Enfield

The sound of light footsteps distract me from my laptop. I hadn't gone back to the absurd "homework group" after the disaster that was that first meeting. I don't think I could physically go back. I couldn't put myself in that situation again. I'm sure Tex will see my disappearance as a sign of my wekanes. That I let him win on. To be frank, I don't care. I rather him have a lower opinion of me then he already has then let myself be humiliated again. Self-preservation instincts at work, I suppose.

Instead of working in the library, albeit at a separate table, I had settled myself in one of the many benches that line the walls of the palace. It would have been too awkward to sit there at my own table. I guess it made sense that someone would come by eventually. I was in a fairly public place. What did I expect? For the world to suddenly know that I was sitting there and not disturb me? That was a silly notion to even consider, much less that it would ever come to pass.

The footsteps grow louder as they approach me, a distinct figure coming into view. Nishav Levesque, in his standard gloomy outfit. This sweater was a muted shade of dark red, the pants a plain black. He walks with purpose and I get the feeling that if I didn't say anything he wouldn't have even acknowledged my presence. He would have definitely seen me, he just wouldn't have stooped to say hi.

So, in an attempt to make friends with him, I greet Nishav. "Hey, Nishav." I say from my seat. He's not the nicest person, that's for sure, but I might as well be amicable towards him. He seems to harbor hostility towards everyone, so at least he doesn't dislike me in particular. That's definitely a start.

"Henri." He says nodding to show that he heard me. He slightly slows his pace, which I take as a good sign. I place my laptop on the bench -I'm sure no one would take it. It's the palace for heaven's sake. No one here needs my laptop- and I stand up to walk with him.

"How are you?" I ask, making my feet match his pace. He's taller than me, his strides longer, if not faster. Ah well.

"Well." Nishav replies.

Oh. "What are you doing?" I ask, clearly he didn't feel like answering the first question.

Nishav regards my interest curiously. "What did it look like I was doing?" Heasks, his voice dry.

I shrug, "Walking." I say bluntly. I don't know what his goal is, but he was definitely walking.

"Yes. I was." Nishav looks at me, realization passing through his face. "Why aren't you at the study group or whatever that thing the Princess created is called?"

I flush, not really wanting to get into it. "I work better alone." I lie quickly. Nishav doesn't seem like he buys it, but he at least doesn't comment on it. That's...oddly nice of him. Maybe he's having a sentimental streak today. Or, he's realized that being so abrasive all the time is hard work. I don't think that I could do it. I can barely function knowing someone is mad at me, let alone purposely trying to make the rest of the selected dislike me.

"Do you? Why?" Nushav asks, his tone sounding as unbothered as usual.

"I don't know...I find it easier to focus." I stammer, going with the first thing to come to mind. Nishav still doesn't look any more convinced of my lie then he did before, his face is impassive, but his eyes show clear doubt.

"Well. If it works for you…" Nishav's voice trails off as he studies one of the many paintings lining the walls. This one in particular is a picture of a woman in a dark blue party dress, seeming almost to be a portrait older then the palace. Maybe it was. I know that the royal housing had plenty of priceless artifacts, they probably had a few antique paintings as well.

"That's a nice painting." I say, following his gaze towards the picture.

Nishav shakes his head slightly, "Perhaps. It's inaccurate though. You would think that the painter could have at least done his research." He states, his voice leaving to room for disagreeing.

"Wh...what do you mean?" I ask, looking again at the painting. I don't really see what could be inaccurate about a picture of a woman in a ballgown.

Nishav sighs, at what I can only guess, my stupidity. "You see the violin in the corner?" He asks, tapping his finger against a tiny violin painted towards the side of the woman.

"...Yes."

"Well, it only has 3 strings. Classically, violins have 4. It just seems reckless to put all this work into painting it and then mess up the number of violin strings." Nishav muses quietly, seeming absorbed with the small detail.

"Oh." I look at the violin again. "Maybe the painter just ran out of space. It's still an great painting, even if that detail is off."

Nishav shakes his head. "That's where you're wrong. This painting could be in various museums around the country. It's certainly impressive enough, the painter was famous enough. But that one tiny mistake was enough to land it in the palace instead of in a museum or art exhibit. It's rather sad, isn't it?" He muses, not really sounding like he wants my opinion.

"I guess. Being in the palace is still a pretty good achievement." I say, taking care to agree with him in the beginning of my answer.

"But it had so much more potential. What a waste." Nishav says. With that he clasps his hands behind his back, turning away from the painting in one fell swoop. He doesn't give the painting another glance back as he continues down the hallway, "Are you coming?" he asks.

Wow. I never thought I'd hear those words out of Nishav's mouth. "Yeah. Sorry, I am."

Nishav rolls his eyes slightly, "You don't need to apologize for things like that. You tend to apologize for no reason. Far more than you should. You should try to work on it in the future." He says matter-of-factly, as if he didn't just tell me to change my entire demeanor in a few sentences. What is with it with people telling me to change? First Miss Van Der Witts, now Nishav.

They're just trying to help.

I know they are. I know they both mean well, but it doesn't really help the feelings tht come with being criticized. Who would have thought that it would be Nishav of all people telling me how to improve myself? Nyson, I could see. Maybe even George. But not Nishav. It seem like he's barely interested in any conversations as it is, I guess he must be good at hiding the fact that he really is paying attention.

"I'll take that into consideration." I respond stiffly, trying not to let my distaste bleed into my voice. Nishav being Nishav though, picks up on it.

"You don't need to be offended," he says lightly.

"I'm not offended. Thank you for letting me know." I say, not meaning the words that come out of my mouth.

Nishav looks at me, a sparkle of mirth in his eyes, "No problem. Now, I believe we have class with Miss Van Der Witts." It's a statement, not a question. Nishav isn't asking me if we have class, he's telling me. Effectively rendering this conversation over. Or, at least putting it on a timer. We would start walking towards the ballroom, and when we arrived: He would be able to be done speaking to me.

I don't know if I'm relieved or not. One one hand, it was nice of him to talk to me, on the other hand, well, it's Nishav.

"We do." I confirm, checking the time on my watch. "Do you want to head over?" I ask, though he already implied that in his statement,

"We should. It would be best not to be late. You're on thin ice with Lady Van Der Witts as it is. No need to exacerbate the problem." Nishav's words aren't judgemental, they're merely stating the fact that, well, Miss Van Der Witts doesn't like me much. I know that. I've accepted that. I just didn't know that the rest of the selected had picked up on it as well.

Me and Nishav walk to the ballroom where Miss Van Der Witts holds all her lessons. Secretly, I suspect that she likes to pretend that she's royalty, and that's she at an actual ball. That's why she holds classes in the most extravagant room in the entire palace. If she really wanted to create a more "scholarly" atmosphere, there were a plethora of other rooms she could choose.

But, instead, she went with the ballroom.

I haven't mentioned my thoughts to anyone yet. I'm not sure that anyone would really appreciate it. Not even Divesh, who seem to like me the best out of the rest of the selected. Not that it's a hard bar to pass. I mean, it's practically on the floor.

Nishav and I walk into the ballroom, earning us some surprised looks from the rest of the boys. I guess they couldn't believe that Nishav was walking in with anyone. He was such a loner.

"Nishav!" Nyson calls from halfways across the room. "I saved you a spot."

"We do not shout in the ballroom." Miss Van der Witts chastises from her position halfways across the room. Nobody remarks on the fact that, in telling Nyson not to shout, that she herself shouted. How about that for some dramatic irony.

Nishav's voice is even, and probably, according to Miss Van Der Witts, ballroom appropriate. "You didn't have to do that Nyson."

Nyson waves his hand. "Of course I did. Friends save seats...well, spots in this case, for friends." I have to stop myself from laughing at the incredulous, and aggravated expression that crosses over Nishav's face. Personally, I don't think that Nishav exactly considers them friends. At least, the look on his face doesn't show any fondness he might have towards Nyson.

"That's nice of you, Nyson. But don't you think that maybe one of your actual friends would like to stand there?" He asks, barely masking the contempt in his voice.

"What do you mean?" Nyson asks, looking genuinely confused.

Nishav huffs a breath. "Look. You really think that we're friends? No offense, Nyson, but we barely know each other." Nishav clearly wants to nip this blossoming friendship in the bud, though if I were him I would be a tad bit clearer. I doubt that he wants to hurt Nyson's feelings, for some reason, but if he really dislikes Nyson that much, he would have to make his words clear. Because, obviously, Nyson wasn't picking up on Nishav's barely hidden insults.

Nyson seems to brighten at Nishav's words, "See. We barely know each other. That's why we should stand next to each other."

Nishav glares at Nyson for a good moment. Miss Van Der Witts glares at him, too. Finally, Nishav sighs, getting the message "Normally, I wouldn't resign myself to standing next to you, but since we're holding up the class, and I feel that this is not worth downgrading the quality of the other selected's education, I will stand next to you just this once."

With that, Nishav reluctantly walks off to go stand near Nyson, by the windows. What an odd pair they make. They're both tall, that much is clear. But whereas Nishav's frame is slim, his face soft, Nyson seems to be made purely out of muscles. His bulky body shows years of work, actual work, not the type of muscles you earn in the gym.

Miss Van Der Witts clears her throat once, a quiet sound that echoes in the ballroom. "Good, now that we got that situation all sorted out, I would like to talk to everyone about a very pressing matter. Does anyone know what's coming up in a few weeks?"

Almost every hand in the room raises, "Christmas." Divesh says quietly, probably more to himself then to anyone else, Still, it echoes in the room, and Miss Van Der Witts hears.

"We are not savages, Divesh. Raise your hand next time. Especially if you are going to give a wrong answer."

Divesh looks up in surprise, "I..I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to...But, isn't Christmas soon?"

Miss Van Der Witts sighs, "Yes, it is. But that is not what I am talking about. Anybody else?" Almost every hand in the room lowers, but I put my own up, knowing what she's referring to. After making a show of scanning the room looking for anyone other than me, she resigns herself to choosing me. "Yes, Henri. What is it?"

"The New Years Eve ball." I answer swiftly. The palace didn't do a Christmas ball, unlike most of the royal families. Say what you will, but I thought that the idea of spending Christmas with family was sweet. Personally, I don't like to do it. But for other families, normal families, it was a nice notion.

Plus, and in my opinion, probably the most driving contributer in the decision was the fact that the royal family simply didn't have the funds to pay for two balls within a week of one another. So, one had to go and of course, it was the one that some old king could claim was better off spent with the family.

I loved the New Year's Eve ball. I've gone for the past few years with the rest of my family, of course. At least I didn't have to actually spend time with them at the party. The music was more upbeat than most traditional palace parties, and the countdown to midnight was always fun. In recent years the palace had started doing an auction sort of ball drop, where guests could buy tickets for some sort of prize, usually an expensive handbag, and it would be read off at midnight.

"Yes. That's right. This holiday is celebrated with a party every year. The New Years Eve ball. Now, I don't expect that most of you will be in attendance, the selection being what it is. But for the lucky few of you who are going to stay for the party, you must learn the customs of parties, how to interact with the higher spheres of society." Miss Van Der Witts lectures, her eyes shining bright with the prospect of she herself being invited to the ball.

"What do you mean?" Bas asks, looking genuinely puzzled at her words. "I thought waltzing was outdated, no one did it any more."

Miss Van Der Witts sighs. "Unfortunately. What a time that would have been. No matter though, we're in the future, and yes, Sebastian. The waltz is not performed anymore. Still, there is standard etiquette that needs to be practiced."

Bas nods, seeming interested in what she has to say. "What?" he asks.

Miss Van Der Witts regards him graciously, seeming happy that someone is taking interest in her stifling lessons. "First of all, the remaining selected will be presented to the guests in alphabetical order. You must be able to walk into a room without embarrassing yourself."

"So...we're learning how to walk?" Nishav asks boredly.

"Do not take this as an overly simple activity Mr. Levesque. You might have adequate posture, but you are one of the few. There are more components to this. You must be able to walk down a stairwell without holding onto the banister. You must be able to walk in a straight line while turning from side to side. If you are so confident in your abilities, Mr. Levesque, you can demonstrate for everyone."

I know that Miss Van Der Witts said that it was all very complicated, but to be quite honest the process of walking down a stairwell seems absurdly simple. Most of the other guys seem to be along the same line of thought, it's clear from the small grins forming on their faces.

I, of course, keep my face perfectly neutral. I don't want her to make me demonstrate next.

"Gladly." Nish responds evenly seeming unfazed by these new requirements. "Do you want me to do it now?"

Seeming put out by his brisk demanor, Miss Van Der Witts flicks her hand. "No. Not now. I haven't finished with my explanation yet. When I am ready for you to show the rest of the selected I will let you know."

Nishav dips his head in acknowledgment of her words and goes back to staring at a spot in the distance, thoroughly ignoring all of Nyson's attempts to talk to him.

"If I could actually get through my explanation without someone interrupting me." Miss Van Der Witts scans the room, before seeming to be satisfied with the level of quiet. "Perfect. Of course presentation isn't the only part of this ball. Many of the higher-ranking citizens of Illea will be in attendance. Socialites, dimplomats, the advisors and their families, all the like. These people are extremely influential in the world of media, and their approval would benefit you substantially in the polls. I would suggest trying to impress them."

George raises his hand, "My father used to be a general in the military. I know many of the invited guests already." he says smugly. His use of past tense doesn't escape me, but I don't have time to wonder what he means. I don't bring up the fact that yes, maybe he knew vaguely of the upper class of the country but I knew them personally. I've been to this ball before multiple times as a matter of fact. Still, that information wouldn't do me any good with the boys so I don't say anything about it.

"Is that right?" Miss Van Der Witts asks, looking bored.

George nods, looking proud. "Yes."

"If you're so confident in your abilities then, you can be in charge of greeting guests at the door." That statement is worrying enough to George to quiet him. Though, I don't really think that Miss Van Der Witts has the power to do that. Regardless it scares him into silence which is good enough.

"That's what I thought." Miss Van Der Witts says quietly. "Other than George, are any of your families attending the ball?"

"Oh, are families coming?" Nathaniel asks.

"No. They're not. I was simply wondering if any of them are going to be on the guest list for the party. If they have been on it in previous years."

His face glowing scarlet, and rubbing the back of his neck, Bas speaks up. "My...my moms come occasionally."

"Right. Your mothers. They are friends with Princess Quinn, correct?" Miss Van Der Witts asks.

Bas nods, ducking his head. "I wouldn't say that…"

"No matter. I'll look into that. Anyway, preparation for the ball will be taking up out lesson times for the next few weeks, so make sure to be on time." Miss Van Der Witts says narrowing her eyes in an attempt to scare all of us.

It works.

We spend the rest of class practicing walking down the grand staircase in the front of the ballroom. True to his word, Nishav can do it. So can most everyone else for that matter but that doesn't stop Miss Van Der Witts from making us repeat the action over and over again till she's satisfied. As if we couldn't walk down a staircase without using a handrail.

After nearly an hour Miss Van Der Witts finally dismisses the class, only because a butler comes in saying that the royal family is waiting in the dining room for lunch. Miss Van Der Witts doesn't seem particularly pleased by this notion but she lets us go without much of a fuss.

I wonder where Miss Van Der Witts eats. It's not in the dining room and I doubt that she takes her meals in the staff cafeteria. Maybe I'll ask her, if I'm sure that she won't get upset at me for some reason.

Actually, on second thought, I probably shouldn't. There's no predicting which way her moods might swing.

Towards the end of the meal, when some of the men begin to leave the room, Carrie clears her throat loudly. "It has come to my attention, that apparently you all don't like each other that much. Which is understandable, but still. That needs to be fixed. So, we are going to be doing some group bonding this afternoon." Carrie says, her eyes gleaming.

Huh. I have to wonder who told on me and Tex's argument. Clearly, whoever it was, hadn't used actual names, but I couldn't think of another instance that could have led to this result.

"Group bonding?" Tex repeats, "What are we doing?"

Carrie pauses, tilting her head to the side. "I haven't decided yet. Does anyone have any suggestions?" She asks, opening the room up to discussion.

"Checkers?" Nyson suggests.

Carrie seems to consider it for a moment, "Nah. That's just a watered down version of chess. Anyone else?"

"Spoons?" George says confidently.

"There's 29 of us and a deck of cards only has 52 cards. That won't work." Carrie dismisses quickly.

"Pictionary?" says Divesh his voice nervous.

"Maybe. Who here can draw?" Carrie asks, counting the amount of people who raise their hands. "No. It won't be fun if not everyone can draw. You know what we can play?"

'"What?" I ask.

"Rescue mission." She states, smiling broadly. "Basically we split up into 2 teams. The first team goes to the third floor and they have to try to get to the foyer without being tagged by anyone on the other team. It's super easy once you actually start to play it"

"Carolynn," her mother says, not bothering to keep her voice low enough so that the selected can't hear. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Carrie glances at her, "Why wouldn't it be?"

"You're in heels for starters. Besides, do we really need to have people running up and down the staircases? It seems like someone is going to get injured."

"I'll change into flats. But fine, if you're so worried, why don't we put it to a vote?" Carrie turns to the tables positioned in front of the head table. "All in favor, raise your hands." Of course, every man puts their hand up, even Nishav who looks somewhat interested in this game. Smiling smugly, Carrie looks at her mother. "Perfect. Everyone, follow me."

The Queen watches concernedly as Carrie leads us all out of the room into the foyer. "Okay, we're going to need to divide up into teams." Carrie tells us. She walks around tapping us each on the shoulder and giving us a number. I'm 17. "If you're an even number, go to the third floor. If you're an odd number stay here. In 5 minutes, we can officially start the game."

Carrie leads her team to the third floor, probably a good thing since she would need to be with them so that the guys could get past the stairwell without the guards stopping them.

Nishav surveys us all boredly, "Here is the plan: There are 6 staircases and 14 of us. 2 of us will go to each staircase, each positioned at a different landing, and then the remainder would stay in the foyer in case someone gets through the first set."

I wouldn't have thought that it would be Nishav who came up with the plan for the game, he's never exactly been a team player. Still, it's a good plan, well-thought out, especially considering that he must have come up with it in the last 15 minutes.

"What about the servants staircases?" Nathaniel asks, "One of the maids told me about them."

Nishav flicks his hand dismissively, "Do you know where any of them are?"

"...No."

"Then how would they? Don't worry about it. Now, we have wasted a significant amount of time so I suggest you get moving."

"Who made him leader?" Tex mutters. He doesn't protest though, and instead heads off to go guard his staircase.

I end up in charge of the second floor landing of the fourth staircase. This particular one twists around a corner, making it hard for someone at the top to see the bottom. For the first 20 minutes of the game, no one comes my way, the staircase being slightly out of the main fold of the other selected's knowledge of the palace.. I'm getting bored when I hear a sound above me.

"Oh damn it." George mutters under his breath when he sees me. I don't move at first waiting for him to get to the bottom of the staircase. "Aren't you going to tag me?" He asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

I look up at him, "Not yet, no."

George falters for a second, looking surprised. "Wait, why not?"

Am I the only one here, with the exception of the Queen, who understands the dangers of running up and down staircases? "I'm not going to push you on the stairs." I say incredulously, wondering what's going on with the other guys. Maybe they decided to throw caution to the wind and chase each other on staircases. Probably a few of them had at least.

"Oh. Why not?" George asks.

"Because it's dangerous."

"Huh. George considers my words for a second. "That's nice of you, Henri."

I smile grimly, "Thanks."

A/N: Hello everyone. I hope you're having a great start to your week. Happy Monday! I know I am, I don't have to go to spanish class on Mondays. Okay, that being said, I don't really have a lot to talk about in this A/N. Not much is going on, in the story or in the world in general (I'm writing this like a week in the advance, so if between then and now aliens invade, you can all have a good laugh at my cluelessness). Alright then, that's all I have going on. Have a good day, and it's almost December, which means the holiday season is here. Yay!