CHAPTER 8
Tuesday, the 25th of November 2239
Henri Pemberton, Viscount Enfield
"Okay, so this is my first time actually trying to set something like this up, so if you don't like it please, just keep your mouth shut." Tex tells us all. That's not exactly how I would have given a please-don't-complain speech, but he got the job done. I don't know, I probably would have tried to be a bit nicer about it, a bit more agreeable, but after knowing Tex for the better part of two weeks, it's quite obvious that being agreeable is not high up on his list of priorities.
Still though, I will admit that he did a decent job setting up this cup-stacking tournament. The first time it had been an impromptu- thing. Someone had asked a maid for a stack of cups and they had set it up. This time Tex had gone more in depth. He made rule sheets, brackets, and of course, he got more cups in case any get lost. All in an effort to impress the Princess.
Apparently when Carrie heard about it, she decided she wanted to participate. That was what Tex told us, making sure to stress the point where she asked him in particular.
I didn't mention the fact that it was probably because he was standing next to her. My guess was that she didn't seek him out in particular for this responsibility. Ah well, I'd let Tex go on thinking that she had. There was nothing to gain from hurting his feelings. Nothing for me, at least. I'm still holding on to hope that some of the guys here would become more...amicable towards me being here. If not knocking Tex down a few pegs was the price I'd pay, fine.
He can think whatever he wants. It's no skin off my back.
What was that old saying? Ignorance is bliss. If it works for Tex, who am I to stop him?
"That's nice, Tex." Bas comments, voicing the majorities thoughts.
Tex ignores Bas, plowing on with his long and slightly passive-aggressive explanation for how this so-called tournament will work. "We're going to be going 2 at a time, working our way down the brackets. I made a list for anyone who needs a reference or somehow miraculously forgot how brackets work."
Nishav glances at it, uninterested. "This is going to take hours," he states matter-of-factly. "I have better things to do today."
Nyson looks up, "What are you doing?" I had been wondering the same thing. If he had something that truly was better going on, then I'd hope he'd be open to sharing. I didn't want to sit here and listen to Tex treat us as if we all were very dumb toddlers. It's a jarring change from how people usually speak to me, though I guess that's a good thing. For once, I'd be treated as an equal among a group, not a royal.
It could be a learning experience.
"Nothing, Nyson." Nishav says dismissively, addressing Nyson the way one might a puppy dog that's chewing on your shoes. I don't think he means it personally though. That's how Nishav treats everyone. At least, everyone I've ever seen him talk to.
"But," he continues, enunciating every word to make his point clear. "I'm sure if I really looked, I can find something more productive to do with my time than stacking cups."
Tex smirks, "Shame. You don't really have a choice in the matter."
"Of course I have a choice in the matter." Nishav says, "And if you continue with this I'm going to choose to leave."
No he won't. Say what you will, but I know well enough that Nishav isn't going to be the odd one out. He entered for a reason, and he can denounce finding love all he wants, he's going to stick around for a while.
'Come on Nish, it could be fun." Nyson says enthusiastically.
Nishav glares at him for a good moment, "Please, do not call me that. You wouldn't want me calling you Nys, would you?"
Nyson shrugs, "I wouldn't mind." How anyone could be so clueless about the tension in the room is beyond me.
"Well then, unlike you, Nyson, some people prefer not to be called by ridiculous nicknames. Is that really too much to ask?" Nishav admonishes. I press my lips together, not wanting to get in the middle of whatever it is that's going on right now.
"Sorry, man. I didn't think you'd mind that much." Nyson says, shrugging slightly.
Nishav huffs a breath, "Well, I do. Anyway, Thaddeus, please, tell us who is competing against whom?" Oh right, Tex's actual name is Thaddeus. Not many of the other guys make the connection, and I see some questions in their eyes.
"Who's Thaddeus?" Nyson asks, clearly not knowing when enough is enough. This poor boy. Someone really needs to teach him when it's better to not say anything, to let the conversation finish without your interference. When it's better not to get your hands dirty with the problems of other people.
Tex looks over at him, "Me. And I printed out handouts for all of you. It has all the information about the order of the competitions." Tex takes a stack of paper, passing them out to all of us. I glance at it, he made an old fashioned bracket. Apparently I'm competing against Nyson. That's...alright. At least he'll be nice about it. Say what you will about him, he's not a mean person. It's just not in his nature.
Divesh speaks up, after looking over his own sheet of paper."I'm no mathematician, but we're eventually going to end up with an odd number of players." I mentally check the math in my head, 36...18...9… he's right.
"Yes. If anyone actually bothered to read the handout, you would see that we would eventually split up into groups of 3 at that point. Thank you, Divesh though, for that wonderful question. Does anyone else have anything-"
At this point, the doors fly open, Carrie stepping in. She's dressed in a pair of black leggings and a yellow sweatshirt, a matching yellow scrunchie in her hair. She looks around the room carefully, "Am I interrupting something?" She had clearly heard the last few sentences of Tex's speech, and must have planned her entrance accordingly.
Tex flushes, "No, I was just finishing explaining the rules of the game and addressing any questions," he explains hurriedly. I wonder if he actually believes he was just answering questions or if he knew how he sounded? If so, than he's an excellent actor, I'll give him that. Maybe even deserving on one of those academy awards.
"Hm. Well, don't stop on my account. I find it entertaining" Carrie says, waving her hand. "I must say though, laminating the instruction sheets really wasn't necessary."
Tex takes a deep breath, "Right. Sorry about that. I asked my butler, and he said he would take care of it for me."
Carrie shrugs, "I didn't say I was against it. I just said it was unnecessary. It's a nice touch. Makes this whole thing...professional."
Tex seems like he doesn't know what to make of that, and forces a smile on his face. "Uh, alright then. Thank you. Anyway, if everyone is ready?" he asks.
Carrie raises her hand, not waiting for Tex's approval to speak. "How about we spice things up a bit?"
Tex looks at her, clearly not comprehending what she means. I do though. What ridiculous prize did she come up with this time? "I'm sorry?" Tex asks.
Carrie smiles brilliantly before addressing us all. "So, what Miss Van Der Witts did last week with the date was pretty jerky, and I feel like I have to say that she never ran that idea by me. So, I'm sorry about that. To make it up to you, the winner of this...game, can pick the activity for a date with me." She pauses, surveying our faces. "And the other 2 selected who will be coming on the date."
"Other..?" A blond haired boy asks.
"Yeah. I still need to do group dates with all of you." Carrie explains, trying to make the prize sound better than it actually was.
"So now…" Tex asks again.
"Nope. One more thing. So if you're in college, I'm assuming that you still are doing work. I hope you're still soing work anyway. So some of the guys are making a thing for people to go and do their work. If you want to join, talk to Nathaniel or someone." Carrie grins, glancing at Tex. "And now, Mr. Lands, we can start your game."
"Finally." he mutters.
The game itself is pretty silly. The objective is to stack and unstack a tower of red plastic cups faster than the other person. It's apparently a big thing at summer camps, not that I've ever been to one. The first round is Nathaniel against some guy who's name I don't know. Nathaniel beats him easily, looking like he had far more practice at the whole thing.
"Good game." Nathaniel says to the boy, who shakes his hand before coming to join the rest of us again. Nathaniel looks at Tex for what to do next, and a few shooing motions later, Nathaniel too, comes to the back of the room.
The rest of the round proceed similarly, no one getting too upset when they lose. Good thing for that, or there would be a lot of tantrums today.
Carrie is halfway down the list, competing against a boy named Micheal. The same one whose name she mixed up when asking him out on a date.
"You let me win." She complains to him after the round is over.
The redhead becomes paler than he already was, "No..I didn't...I..I just suck at the game." he stammers out. I have to admit, from my viewpoint it looked like he threw the match, but who am I to judge? That's one way to get into her good graces. After what she told me about their date, he needed to try a new strategy.
When it comes to my turn, a surprising amount of nerves coil in my stomach. I know I'm going to lose, but I don't really care. Not much anyway.
"Good luck," Nyson says to me.
I smile, "You too."
About the halfway point through the round, I give up. I'm still working on getting the base set up and Nyson is already unstacking it. Instead of scrambling to finish, I just put my hands up, admitting defeat. Nyson finishes within a few seconds, and when he glances over to see how I'm doing, he bursts out laughing. "Not really your game?" he asks.
I shake my head, "Not at all." It's true. I've heard of the game before, sure but it doesn't mean I've ever actually played. I've never really had the chance too. Plus, most of these...games were played at parties with alcohol, and I couldn't risk the publicity outrage by going to one of them. I would never hear the end of it.
"You didn't do bad." Nyson says, surveying my mess of cups.
"Thanks." With that me and Nyson go to sit back down. Nishav doesn't look particularly pleased that Nyson won, but he still offers a weak congratulations.
"That was your best shot?" Carrie whispers in my ear.
"I tried, alright?" I protest.
The rest of it passes fairly slowly. It's entertaining at first, but as the minutes stretch on and on, it gets a bit repetitive. Carrie gets knocked out in...the 4th bracket I think. It could have been the 3rd. It all blended together anyway.
Tex seems to be annoyingly good at the game, probably why he suggested it last week. He ends up in the finals, against Nishav who, despite his grumbles, also seems to be fairly adept at it. They're by far the best of the guys here.
"May the best win." Nishav says to Tex before they start.
'Yeah. Good luck." Tex tells him.
I watch in disbelief as Tex and Nishav compete. They're both really good. How long have they spent practicing this? In the end though, Nishav manages to win, by the slimmest margin I've seen so far. Nishav stretches out his arm for a handshake. Tex looks reluctant, but takes it, knowing well enough not to cause a scene.
"Okay, congratulations." Carrie says, looking up from her phone. She had gotten bored almost immediately after she lost, spending the rest of the time engrossed in something on the internet. "You can choose later, I guess. Or now if you want."
Nishav surveys us. I don't think he likes any of us enough to willingly spend time with us, but he really doesn't have a choice in the matter. "Divesh, and Dale." he says finally, and quite unenthusastically.
"Perfect. And what are we doing?" Carrie asks.
Nishav sighs, "I don't care. We can… go on a nature walk."
Carrie frowns, "Oh. That? Like with bugs? And dirt?"
"Yes."
"Can you choose something else?" She asks, her tone making it clear that it's not really a question at all.
"Fine. We can go to a restaurant." Nishav suggests, his tone unbothered. He doesn't seem any happier about this arrangement than he was about taking a nature walk, despite both having been suggested by him.
At this Carrie brightens. "Works for me. I'll make a reservation for us on Thursday. I have meetings for most of the day tomorrow."
"I'll look forward to it." Nishav says boredly.
"Me too." Divesh says, speaking up. Dale nods in agreement. "Oh, um, I can't have dairy. I'm lactose-intolerant." Divesh adds.
Carrie looks at him, "Are you actually lactose-intolerant or are you liek the type who still drinks milkshakes?"
Divesh chuckles nervously, "No. I'm actually lactose-intolerant."
With that, Carrie claps her hands. "Okay. I'll remember that. Anyway, I'm hungry. Let's go to lunch." She doesn't wait for our approval, heading out of the room, all of us following her.
After a quiet lunch, comes the part of the day that I've been dreading. I hadn't mentioned my flunking of the language test to anyone, especially not the boys who had made it their mission to find out which people had to meet with Miss Van Der Witts. I knew that there would be endless taunts, and even I didn't quite understand what I had done wrong, but it didn't matter. I could only pretend it didn't exist for so long. Now, it would all be fairly out in the open.
"You too?" Divesh asks as we wait outside the room.
I nod, "Unfortunately."
"It can't be that bad." he says quietly.
Either way, Miss Van Der Witts makes her way to the small group of people that she's selected for extra-attention, cutting our conversation short. She looks at us, quickly counting. "Where is Mr. Avery?" She asks, as if we would know.
"I'm not sure." I answer for the group.
She hums lightly, waiting for Nyson to appear. After about a minute he comes running down the hallway, "I'm so sorry that I'm late." he apologizes breathlessly. Not to judge him, but it seems like he forgot that there was an meeting he had to attend.
Miss Van Der Witts rolls her eyes, "Please refrain from running in the palace. It is very unbecoming. Almost as unbecoming as being late to an appointment. I expect you to work on this in the future Mr. Avery." Thank God I was on time. I don't think I've ever had a teacher speak to me like that, and I'm happy it won't be starting today.
Nyson flushes, ducking his head. "Sorry." he says again.
Miss Van Der Witts pushes the door open, allowing us into the makeshift classroom. It's filled with a few couches upholstered in various shades of pink. Miss Van Der Witts sits in the singular chair motioning for the rest of us to sit.
"Now, you are all here for a reason. I don't know whether or not you're aware of it, but there is a reason," she starts, "Micheal Levison, you can barely get a sentence out without stammering. You need more confidence when you talk. You," she indicates Nyson, "have lisp. It's not very noticeable, but it's a problem that needs to be addressed before anyone else points it out." She pauses, looking at me and Divesh. "And, finally, you two. You are competing to be the future Prince Consort of Illéa. That means you must sound Illéan. Those british accents must go sooner or later."
I know she's being honest, but the words still hurt. Miss Van Der Witts might be rude, classless, and downright terrifying, but she is usually right, even if her methods are abnormal and her reprimands are hurtful. I don't really want to change my speech patterns for this woman, but she's right. I have to at least try to sound Illéan or the country will never see me as one. I'll just always be the foriegn royal. And I don't want that anymore.
So I'll play along with whatever juvenile lessons she has planned for us.
Nyson doesn't seem to share my viewpoint as he addresses Miss Van Der Witts. "Is it really that bad?" he asks cautiously.
"Is what that bad?" Miss Van Der Witts questions, sounding annoyed.
"My lisp. Is it really that bad?" Nyson repeats, clarifying his question.
"To be frank, yes. It is." Miss Van Der Witts states, "Of course, it's not as pressing an issue as the rest of you. Divesh, Henri, your's will take the most time, but with repetition we should be able to achieve the desired goals. Micheal, we just need to work on your confidence."
I look up, risking life and limb to ask her a question. "Not to be rude, but what's the timeline for this?"
"What do you mean?"
I sigh, explaining myself, "I know that you probably have a plan laid out, so based on it, when do you think we will begin to be able to see changes in our speaking patterns?" I ask, hoping I'm not overstepping any imaginary boundaries that Miss Van Der Witts had put up. She's not being horrible to me today, and I would like to keep it that way.
"For you, maybe roughly about a month. Much of it is dependent on you of course, but I would say a month is a safe estimate." So by my birthday, this will all be fixed. That's not too bad. I can deal with that for a month.
Divesh raises his hand, "What about me?"
Miss Van Der Witts consults her papers before addressing him. "Divesh Agarwal...Maybe about 2 months, a bit more, a bit less. You have a much heavier accent but it's still doable. I wouldn't worry too much, any of you. This is all fixable." I'm not sure if Miss Van Der Witts is trying to reassure us in an odd way, but it doesn't come across in her words. No one wants to be told that they have to be fixed. That they're broken.
"That's good to know." I say lightly. No one else looks like they have anything to say to her right now.
"Yes. Like I said, I'm here to help you." Miss Van Der Witts states, smiling proudly. "Now, Micheal, come with me. The rest of you can chat among yourselves until we get back." Micheal nods standing up quickly. On their way out, I hear Miss Van Der Witts mutter, "For heaven's sake boy, stand up straight. It's not that hard." I let out a small chuckle at that.
"What's so funny?" Nyson asks, almost accusingly. "Come on, we're all in this together."
"I wasn't laughing at you" I say, backtracking quickly. "Miss Van Der Witts is certainly a character sometimes. It's easier to just laugh." I explain to the two of them.
Nyson nods in understanding. Divesh however, has a question for me. "No offense, but why do you call her Miss Van Der Witts instead of Lady like the rest of us?" he asks curiously. I know it's an innocent question, but I don't want to relive those memories.
"It just feels weird to call her that. I don't know, it's hard to explain." I say vaguely.
"Is it because of the whole royalty thing?" Nyson asks.
"Hm?" I'm not quite sure what he means by that.
"I mean, isn't your mom the Lady of something or other." Nyson explains. "I guess it would be weird to call your teacher the same thing as your mom. I get that."
"My mum is a Countess, but yeah. Pretty much. It just feels off to call her that." I don't include the part about Miss Van Der Witts claiming to be my blood family. I don't think that Nyson wants to hear that. I'm not sure about Divesh, though he seems much more accepting of me than any of the other guys here with the possible exception of Nathaniel.
"Henri Pemberton." Nyson says, testing the words out. "I've heard of you before, before all this selection stuff, I mean."
I shrug, "I don't know, probably." I'm not sure how famous the foriegn monarchies are in Illéa, but if they went to a grocery store, they probably would've found something with my last name on it. I know that the Illéan royal family is popular around the globe, it makes sense for it to work in reverse as well.
"So why'd you come to Illéa?" Divesh asks curiously.
"My father was overseeing part of the navy." I lie smoothly. It's not entirely untrue, it's the answer I've given anyone who ever asked. Yes, Father works with the Illéan navy but that's not the reason that we moved. I know that Divesh knows I'm lying. Nyson though, nods.
"That's awesome."
Divesh changes the topic quickly, probably sensing that I don't want to talk about it anymore. "Did you get signed up for that study group too?" he asks.
I nod, "Yeah, the Princess sent me a letter about it." Well, Carrie had told me about it, but I knew she sent letters to everyone else's room. Probably better to go with that.
"Yeah, me too." Divesh shakes his head, "I guess we really don't have a choice in the matter. Might as well go." Divesh doesn't seem particularly enthusiastic about this, something that strikes me as odd. I would have thought that most people would be at least somewhat happy about this. At the very least, it forces you to get work in on time, I could start on my Friction and Momentum essay during the gathering. Huh. Maybe Divesh just likes to work by himself.
"I guess she must have made a list of everyone who said they went to university during the first meetings." I supply. It made sense in my head, though I would wager that she had Jenna be the one who actually made the list and wrote out the letters.
"Probably. Hey, did you know that Nathaniel was in college?" Divesh asks.
I shake my head, and Nyson pipes up, "No."
"Yeah. Me neither. I thought he was a sailing instructor." I had thought the same thing, at least that was what he had told me. Maybe he was doing it as an online course or something. He didn't seem like the type to be secretive. That was more Nishav's territory.
"Same. Do you know what he's studying?" Divesh asks.
"No idea." I answer truthfully.
"Probably something to do with the environment." Nyson adds, "Or business. Actually, never mind. I have no idea what I'm talking about."
Divesh laughs, "None of us do." If I had a drink -and if I was of age- I would toast to that.
"Seems to be a running theme here." I mutter quietly. I don't intend for them to hear me, but of course they do.
"What do you mean?" Divesh asks.
I sigh, organizing my thoughts before I explain myself. "I don't know, so far in the selection, I don't think there's been one time where I was fully sure of what I was doing. I mean, that cup-stacking thing was awful, the history test was hard, and Miss Van Der Witts...I never know what she wants from us. The whole thing is just confusing."
"Not to mention Carolynn." Nyson adds. "I wonder what her type is? I feel like I can never get a read on her. One minute she's having fun the next she's bored and wants to leave." Nyson seems genuinely confused by this. He's right, getting used to Carrie's moods takes some time. I don't say anything about how she feels guilty dating all of them and that's why she's always leaving them. It's not my place to say that. If she wants to confide in Nyson, she can.
"She seems nice." Divesh says, "There's probably a lot of stress that comes with running a country. Maybe it's just that."
"That sounds right." I interject.
"She's really pretty too." Nyson continues. "I don't know how the Schreaves got such good genes."
"Probably from the selections." Divesh says, "I mean, the royal almost always chooses someone fairly attractive, meaning the offspring inherits those features. A few generations of this, and well, here we are." he finishes, waving his hands.
I nod, Divesh's words making sense. I'm not 100 percent sure how biology works, I've always been more into mathematics then the scientific fields. I guess, in some weird way, the same thing happens in my family. Of course we don't have selections, but my relatives usually marry someone who's pretty or handsome. Look who Father chose. One of the few good decisions he's ever made in his life.
"That's lucky." Nyson says. "Do you think looks matter that much when it comes to choosing the winner."
Divesh clearly doesn't know, so I jump in before he can answer. "Probably not. I guess I barely know Carolynn, but from what I've heard of her, she doesn't seem that vain."
Nyson contemplates my words for a minute, "I guess not. Hey, what do you think Micheal and Lady Van Der Witts are doing?"
I shrug, "Speaking drills or something of the like. She probably bought flashcards."
Divesh chuckles, "Taxpayer money going to good use. She probably did, come to think of it."
Our conversation is brought to a stop as Micheal enters the room, his face flushed almost as red as his hair. His head is hanging down, he looks upset. I can't imagine that Miss Van Der Witts was the nicest teacher out there. Speaking of the devil, Miss Van Der Witts is close behind him. "You can go now." She says to Micheal, her voice sounding just as brisk as ever.
Micheal nods, "T-thank you. I'll...I'll go now."
Miss Van Der Witts nods, "I assume you can see yourself out?"
"Yeah...of course." Micheal gives the rest of us a weak smile, before leaving. I wish I was in his place. I always liked to go first when I had the chance, it took a lot of the stress off in times like these. I don't think Miss Van Der Witts really cares about that though. Not that I'm sure she really, truly cares about anything.
"Henri and Divesh, you're next." Miss Van Der Witts motions for us to stand, and just like she did with Micheal, leads us out of the room.
Our destination turns out to be a semi-creepy parlor. The furniture is fine, roughly the same as every other room in the palace. The difference is the paintings that line the wall. Instead of it being pictures of fruit or flowers, paintings of old men in white-powdered wigs were put on display. Their eyes almost seem to follow me as I sit.
"I take it that you are both here because you want to be in contention to be Princess carolynn's husband? If not, please, tell me. I do not feel like wasting time on some boys who do not really want to win, who do not plan to permanently reside in Illéa."
"Of course." I answer first.
"Yeah..I do." Divesh agrees, nodding his head.
Miss Van Der Witts smiles, reminding me vaguely of a cat who knows she has a mouse in its grasp. "Lovely. I don't suppose any of you have any experience with other accents?"
"No." I say quietly, Divesh merely shakes his head.
"Hm. I don't know what I expected. Well, for this, the plan is fairly simple," she pauses, obviously waiting for one of us to say something.
"What is it?" I ask, because it doesn't seem like Divesh is going to. He's bouncing his leg up and down, looking nervous.
"Much of this will involve watching Illéan television and movies, then attempting to imitate the accent. You might feel silly at times, but I promise that no cameras will be allowed into this room. Everything will be kept between the two of you and I. If you are able to adequately perform an Illéan accent on demand, then it should become second nature for you to just speak that way all the time. Or, at least in public gatherings."
That seems like a plan. I know I've judged Miss Van Der Witts harshly before, and that she probably can't stand me, but it sounds like she knows what she's doing. If this is what it takes, semi-private lessons a few times a week with Miss Van Der Witts, then I'm willing to do that.
Divesh pressed his lips together, looking at Miss Van Der Witts nervously, "Do you really think this is necessary? I've never gotten any backlash about my accent before."
"Maybe so, but if you want to preserve that peace, then I would suggest you do what I say. It's best for the both of us."
Divesh looks at me, "What do you think?"
I've been asked to give my opinions on many things before, never with much consequence. It comes with the territory of my last name, of my royal title. Still, until now, I don't think I've ever felt the pressure to answer untruthfully. "I think it's a good thing." I say, lying through my teeth.
I don't think it's a good thing.
But it's what I have to do.
And if that means Divesh needs to do this with me, then he will. Even if I have to lie about certain feelings I might have towards changing my accent.
It's a small barrier in the grand scheme of things
A/N: Hello everyone, we're starting to get into these twice a week updates, so true to hang on with me. I know my nano updates are probably getting a bit ridiculous, but as of writing this AN I have about 21k written so far. We are semi-on track for nano which I am so happy about. In this installment we get to see some fun cup stacking competitions! Alsi, if you can actually do the cup stacking thing well, I am so jealous of you. I suck at it. But it's okay, at least my fictional characters can suffer along with me. Oh, the joys of being an author.
So, that's all I have to say, the next chapter will be another date, and yeah. That's it. See you on Friday with another update!
