Ch. 16
"Lady Sandrilene fa Toren!" A tall man with brownish hair strode over to clasp her hand. "I can't believe I am finally here, I do believe this is the first," he paused to kiss, or was it suck? Her hand, "time I have seen you since you were in that horrid situation with the closet. What ever happened to your parents? I don't believe we ever heard anything about them. Have they run off again to some ghastly country? Your parents were always gallivanting off just when they needed to be here…" Sandry's eyes hardened at the mention of her parents. When he started insulting them, she looked like she was going to spit daggers.
"My parents are dead. I think at this moment it would be wise of you to take your leave and get find your room. I would not recommend getting situated, due to the fact that you will be leaving tomorrow." Her tone left no room for argument. Briar stepped a little closer to Sandry, his fingers itching to whip out the knife in his boot. He leaned down slightly as he saw the man open his mouth to protest.
"But milady! Surely you must know that I have a special invitation from the Duke! I have been invited to you little 'coming out' ball." His voice held an idea, it was chock full of innuendo. His eyes lingered on Sandry's form. Briar unobtrusively bent down and got his knife.
:: If that bastard says one more thing to you, 'Drie, I'll take him out, I swear! The little son of a bitch deserves some pain! I'll give him a scar from the crown of his oily head right down to the tip of his greasy nose…::
::Briar.:: Briar looked at her, startled to hear her mindspeaking to him. ::He won't bother me, I won't let him. But thank you.:: Sandry smiled up at him in admiration, smoothed her skirts nervously, then walked off to her room.
The day was nearly over. Dinner had been a very tense affair, with the mysterious man staring at Sandry the whole time. There had been other staring affairs, but for the most part, the young visitors seemed to be enjoying themselves.
'It's certainly going well,' Sandry thought. 'Everyone's enjoying themselves. Except for Neal. I can't figure him out. Oh well. It doesn't matter much, I suppose, only one more week! And the ball's tomorrow! Oh, I wonder what my dress looks like!' And Sandry thought about fabric and cuts and embroidery for a good while.
"NO! I tell you! No matter what they think, Agar is not strong enough to take over anyone! Can't you see that?! If King Sincoton keeps trying to overrun countries like he is, he won't have anything left!"
"But you must admit, the Namorn army is not what it used to be! And neither is the Tortall army! Both armies have become lax on discipline, softened by the peace we've found! We wouldn't be able to keep anyone out! And Tortall, everyone knows that all those years of fighting on the River Drell took its toll!"
"But Agar is even weaker. There's nothing we need to be able to fight off!" Everyone in the drawing room grew silent, listening to the Duke and the King debate.
"Jon, with all due respect, the Duke is right." Alanna nodded over at the Duke. "Agar could easily overrun us. We have no army. We've never had a Navy. Namorn is just as weak. Now, you're right, Agar is weak too. All those years with King Sincoton have weakened them some, but that country is still able to invade both of our countries, with ease. And then take on Scanra." Sandry was shocked to hear of this state of affairs. She would need to talk to her uncle tonight. Why hadn't she ever head of this?
"Perhaps we ought to take extra percautions. It's highly likely that King Sincoton would send a spy over to see how high our defenses are. I'll contact the Empress, and see what she—" The Duke didn't finish his sentence. At that moment, a young boy of about seventeen burst through the door. Sandry thought he had a very fine face.
"It's the Empress, your Grace." The boy said breathlessly, as he bowed to the Duke and the foreign royalty. "She's dead." He turned to Sandry, fell on one knee, and said, "Your Majesty."
AN: I think this is a good place to leave off. I couldn't find how you're supposed to address an Empress. If anyone knows, tell me. I won't change it in this chapter (prolly) but it will be good to know for later chapters. Thanks for all the great reviews! I was so excited to see I'd hit 40! Kinda pitiful still, but…I'll take what I can get. Everyone please review some more! It makes me want to put out another chapter sooner….especially if the reviews are long and have suggestions…I love that. Any comments at all… I mean, I love the "wonderful story!" reviews…but a little more, please? Oh well. I don't care. Just review!
"Lady Sandrilene fa Toren!" A tall man with brownish hair strode over to clasp her hand. "I can't believe I am finally here, I do believe this is the first," he paused to kiss, or was it suck? Her hand, "time I have seen you since you were in that horrid situation with the closet. What ever happened to your parents? I don't believe we ever heard anything about them. Have they run off again to some ghastly country? Your parents were always gallivanting off just when they needed to be here…" Sandry's eyes hardened at the mention of her parents. When he started insulting them, she looked like she was going to spit daggers.
"My parents are dead. I think at this moment it would be wise of you to take your leave and get find your room. I would not recommend getting situated, due to the fact that you will be leaving tomorrow." Her tone left no room for argument. Briar stepped a little closer to Sandry, his fingers itching to whip out the knife in his boot. He leaned down slightly as he saw the man open his mouth to protest.
"But milady! Surely you must know that I have a special invitation from the Duke! I have been invited to you little 'coming out' ball." His voice held an idea, it was chock full of innuendo. His eyes lingered on Sandry's form. Briar unobtrusively bent down and got his knife.
:: If that bastard says one more thing to you, 'Drie, I'll take him out, I swear! The little son of a bitch deserves some pain! I'll give him a scar from the crown of his oily head right down to the tip of his greasy nose…::
::Briar.:: Briar looked at her, startled to hear her mindspeaking to him. ::He won't bother me, I won't let him. But thank you.:: Sandry smiled up at him in admiration, smoothed her skirts nervously, then walked off to her room.
The day was nearly over. Dinner had been a very tense affair, with the mysterious man staring at Sandry the whole time. There had been other staring affairs, but for the most part, the young visitors seemed to be enjoying themselves.
'It's certainly going well,' Sandry thought. 'Everyone's enjoying themselves. Except for Neal. I can't figure him out. Oh well. It doesn't matter much, I suppose, only one more week! And the ball's tomorrow! Oh, I wonder what my dress looks like!' And Sandry thought about fabric and cuts and embroidery for a good while.
"NO! I tell you! No matter what they think, Agar is not strong enough to take over anyone! Can't you see that?! If King Sincoton keeps trying to overrun countries like he is, he won't have anything left!"
"But you must admit, the Namorn army is not what it used to be! And neither is the Tortall army! Both armies have become lax on discipline, softened by the peace we've found! We wouldn't be able to keep anyone out! And Tortall, everyone knows that all those years of fighting on the River Drell took its toll!"
"But Agar is even weaker. There's nothing we need to be able to fight off!" Everyone in the drawing room grew silent, listening to the Duke and the King debate.
"Jon, with all due respect, the Duke is right." Alanna nodded over at the Duke. "Agar could easily overrun us. We have no army. We've never had a Navy. Namorn is just as weak. Now, you're right, Agar is weak too. All those years with King Sincoton have weakened them some, but that country is still able to invade both of our countries, with ease. And then take on Scanra." Sandry was shocked to hear of this state of affairs. She would need to talk to her uncle tonight. Why hadn't she ever head of this?
"Perhaps we ought to take extra percautions. It's highly likely that King Sincoton would send a spy over to see how high our defenses are. I'll contact the Empress, and see what she—" The Duke didn't finish his sentence. At that moment, a young boy of about seventeen burst through the door. Sandry thought he had a very fine face.
"It's the Empress, your Grace." The boy said breathlessly, as he bowed to the Duke and the foreign royalty. "She's dead." He turned to Sandry, fell on one knee, and said, "Your Majesty."
AN: I think this is a good place to leave off. I couldn't find how you're supposed to address an Empress. If anyone knows, tell me. I won't change it in this chapter (prolly) but it will be good to know for later chapters. Thanks for all the great reviews! I was so excited to see I'd hit 40! Kinda pitiful still, but…I'll take what I can get. Everyone please review some more! It makes me want to put out another chapter sooner….especially if the reviews are long and have suggestions…I love that. Any comments at all… I mean, I love the "wonderful story!" reviews…but a little more, please? Oh well. I don't care. Just review!