Yay! I finally got a chance to write the next chapter…you know, I
absolutely despise school…and it is a very, very LONG chapter! Hooray!!! I
own nothing except, well, anything that Tamora Pierce doesn't feature in
her books. All the stuff that's from her books is, well, hers. ^_^ You know
what I mean.
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"Mmmrffpluuuuurrggg…" Lianne lugged herself out of bed and to the bathroom, where she groped blindly for the basin of water she knew must reside somewhere.
"Nnnngggtthhh…" she celebrated quite jubilantly as she discovered the sleeve of her night-dress that was now completely soaked. Success! She plunged her face into the warm, probably servant-readied rose water, then finally ventured to open her eyes.
"Aaaarrrggg…" Lianne groaned in response to the hideous reflection that peered back at her in the bathroom mirror. Face paint dripped down her face, eye color was smeared wildly around her bleary eyes, and the pins that had previously held up her curls were now inextricably entangled in her horribly snarled hair. Yes, she had forgotten to un-do her lovely ensemble of the night before.
Laboriously, Lianne plucked each pin from her hair—resorting sometimes to cutting them out of her hair with a small knife—and combed, well, ripped would be more accurate, through her tangles with a ruthless brush. Well, three brushes would be more accurate.
As the clock struck eleven, Lianne ducked into the main bedroom again to throw the mangled brushes in the rubbish. She quickly bathed in the tub of already filled water and dried off; she was starving, and it would be a long task to find breakfast food at this hour. Dressing, Lianne heard the door open and close and a faint call of "Milady?" in the outer room.
"Good morning," Lianne greeted the servant woman over-cheerfully, slyly eyeing the food in the woman's hands.
The servant, obviously more than a bit alarmed at the girl's morning gaiety, bobbed a cautious curtsy and replied, "Good morning to you, milady." She presented the tray of bread and fruit to Lianne, who just barely restrained herself from lunging at the food and devouring it greedily.
"Thank you!" she exclaimed and spun around to the small desk in the corner of the room, where she very gratefully gorged every last crumb.
"What do you plan to do today?" inquired the servant woman, making a statement more than asking a question.
Lianne emulated the woman's performance, asking, "I'm not sure. Have you any suggestions?"
She smiled, aware of the tactic's acknowledgement. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Since you conveniently slept through this morning's religious services—oh, don't worry about it," dismissed the servant, waving away Lianne's sudden dismay. "Hardly anyone except the most ball-hating, most stubborn conservatives attends the morning after a large ball. The squires, if not attending to their knightmasters, will be training; you can always watch them in the practice courts." She grinned knowingly at Lianne. "Perhaps you could talk one them into giving you a grand tour. Even if not, you should still look around the University and the Hall of Portraits, they're worth it. If you are intent on wandering about the Palace itself, though, please find a servant to wander with you. Too many newcomers to the Palace have found themselves in the dungeon when they were looking for the solar conservatory. Oh yes! Can't forget the solar conservatory—or the gardens, of course…"
Half an hour later, Lianne headed towards into the deep of the Palace armed with a map of its interior, another map of the University, and yet another map of the outer grounds. Refusing to wimpily (a/n: teehee, I love making up my own words) implore her squire friends for accompaniment, she toured the Hall of Portraits, the royal gardens, and the other attractions of the Palace with the simple company of her maps. Although Lianne certainly didn't enjoy herself nearly as fully as she could have, her usually dormant (but incredibly headstrong when it was present) Contè pride remained intact. She had never been—and still refused to be—a dependent, fragile noble flower. At last, Lianne assented to journeying down to the squires' and pages' practice courts.
Leaning against the fence, Lianne joined a familiar figure—the ever-lovely Lady Elise, who disdainfully ignored her new companion. From the young woman's snobbish and lofty demeanor, it was almost impossible to tell that she and Lianne were the same age, or that they were anywhere near in station.
On the courts, two young men—squires, Lianne presumed, looking to colors they wore—prepared to duel.
"You offend the honor of my Lady by daring to call her your own!" fiercely shouted the squire in royal colors. //Oh, no,// Lianne though to herself. //Please don't let it be who I think it is.//
The other squire had returned with his own insult, to which Liam roared and waved his sword wildly; immediately, metal clashed and the boys (//because that's what they are,// Lianne affirmed, disgusted) commenced battle. Next to Lianne, Lady Elise watched, smirking slyly.
Unable to stomach any more of Lady Elise's cunning or her brother's idiocy, Lianne turned on her heel and walked firmly away from the intrigue. Hypothesizing that she might encounter other friends at the destination, she eventually arrived at the archery grounds.
A brunet squire drew back his bow with intense sobriety, let loose, and looked on appraisingly as the arrow hit dead center of the target. A hand shading his brow, the unmistakable archer Willas of Disart faced the squire next to him in challenge. As the black-haired young man prepared to shoot, Willas caught a glimpse of Lianne and bellowed, "Oy! Lianne!"
His companion's arrow jerked out of the bow and, after narrowly missing the head of the boy next to him, sped over the tall netting that backed the archery targets.
Julian waved, unabashed at his antics, and strolled over to Lianne alongside Willas.
"That's why you always win at archery," Julian was muttering to his friend. "In fact, I can't remember a time where you weren't trying to distract me or anyone else you shoot with…"
"Care to take a hand at the bow?" Willas enticingly offered the instrument of his art to Lianne.
"Oh, no thank you," Lianne quickly declined. "You're too promising a squire to die today with my arrow through your head."
"Good choice," Julian praised. "I don't think I could stand another moment in the archery range. Perhaps you would like to tour the Hall of Portraits?"
"I've already been," she replied, immediately grateful that she had not earlier asked them for accompaniment.
"Ah." A look of surprise and bewilderment crossed both their faces; obviously, her response was not what they had expected.
"Neither the Royal Gardens nor the Menagerie, I suppose?" asked Willas.
"No, I've been there this morning also." Pleased at their reaction, Lianne added, "Thank you for the offer, though."
Smiling in strange wondering speculation, Julian proposed, "The University—you can't have toured the entire University this morning along with the entire Palace."
"I haven't seen the University yet," she admitted. "I was planning to go after midday meal."
"Alone?" Willas was completely incredulous at her nonconformist conduct.
Lianne shrugged, commenting, "I'm not so helpless that I always need to seek out an escort."
"Does that mean you wouldn't care for company?" Julian inquired off- handedly.
She smiled; she had maintained her independence and self-respect but had gained friends to enjoy the afternoon with. "Yes, I believe I would appreciate company."
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"So, have you been thinking about participating in the Great Games (okay, lame name, I'm feeling noncreative) this year? For music, I mean?" Julian queried, holding the hallway door open.
Lianne wasn't sure whether to gasp or laugh hysterically at the mere thought. Finally, after staring dubiously at her friend for a long while, she demanded, "Are you crazy? I don't have the kind of talent to compete in the Games." Shaking her head, Lianne hugged the sitar that she carried closer to her chest and walked out of the University they had just finished exploring. When they had visited the University's musical library—which provided and lent out not only books on musical theory but instruments and specialized music—Lianne couldn't resist borrowing the exotic instrument and a stack of sitar compositions.
Four years ago, the nations of the Scanran Compact—the peace treaty which had ended the war between Tortall and its allies and Scanra and its allies—agreed to honor their reconciliation every four-year anniversary through the Great Games. The Games involved competition in every venue, from magery to arts to physical ability; however, violent altercations frequently broke out between long-rivaling nations. Despite problems, its purpose, to unite the kingdoms of the west, had been well-achieved in its inaugural year, and the next Games were well on schedule. Lianne's first year at the haMinch manor, the year of the Games' beginning, the Lady haMinch and Lianne had journeyed to Corus for one week to view the musical events. During that time, Lianne had seen the most amazing, most talented artists in the world display their best work, and she had looked forward excitedly to the Games' second appearance.
"Don't be so sure," Julian warned. "I heard with my own ears the way you played that instrument you're holding; you'd never even laid eyes on it before today."
"Thank you for the honor, though I know it is utterly misplaced." Lianne fiddled with the sitar strings uncomfortably. "How about we just drop the subject? I simply couldn't ever compete."
"Fine," Julian muttered, "but you know that anyone can enter the runnings. You don't have anything to lose."
Lianne glared at him; she hated incorrect compliments, and she hated competitions. In any type of opposition, if she won, she felt guilty for winning and sorry for the loser, while if she lost, she felt miserable and was filled with intolerable self-pity. Either situation, she ended up hurt.
"Well, I'm off to serve Milord Irenroha," remarked Willas, waving farewell once they reached the small courtyard outside the kitchens. "He's eating tonight in his rooms, some kind of fever, and he likes his supper prompt." Lianne and Julian bid him goodbye and wished him luck with his knightmaster's infamous irritability.
"Are you going to sup in the Great Dining Hall?" Julian asked Lianne as they headed into the palace.
"No, I'm actually not too hungry. I had a large lunch, and I just can't wait to experiment with this sitar." She stroked the instrument's inlaid wood lovingly. "I thought I'd skip dinner and try out the music I picked up."
"Well, I am starved. If you want, I'll show you the Palace's music library," Julian proposed. "It doesn't have as many resources as the University's music library, but it'll provide any extra texts you need."
"Thank you," Lianne said gratefully, still possessively clutching her sitar. "I'm sure it will be a nice, private place to play."
Julian led her into a large room with lofty ceilings and large walls that were lined with antique instruments in glass cases and portraits of famous musicians.
"Have fun," he instructed her as she sat at in a comfortable red armchair. "I'm happily off to—"
"Bbbllluuuuuuuuurrrggghhhh…." interrupted a load moan. Julian and Lianne turned to see what had made the hideous noise, and at once they recognized the slumped-over figure that stank of wine.
"Oh, no," Lianne groaned. "Please tell me this isn't happening…"
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Alrighty then…Told ya it was super-long (at least for me)! Please review if you think it deserving. Thanks for reading!
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"Mmmrffpluuuuurrggg…" Lianne lugged herself out of bed and to the bathroom, where she groped blindly for the basin of water she knew must reside somewhere.
"Nnnngggtthhh…" she celebrated quite jubilantly as she discovered the sleeve of her night-dress that was now completely soaked. Success! She plunged her face into the warm, probably servant-readied rose water, then finally ventured to open her eyes.
"Aaaarrrggg…" Lianne groaned in response to the hideous reflection that peered back at her in the bathroom mirror. Face paint dripped down her face, eye color was smeared wildly around her bleary eyes, and the pins that had previously held up her curls were now inextricably entangled in her horribly snarled hair. Yes, she had forgotten to un-do her lovely ensemble of the night before.
Laboriously, Lianne plucked each pin from her hair—resorting sometimes to cutting them out of her hair with a small knife—and combed, well, ripped would be more accurate, through her tangles with a ruthless brush. Well, three brushes would be more accurate.
As the clock struck eleven, Lianne ducked into the main bedroom again to throw the mangled brushes in the rubbish. She quickly bathed in the tub of already filled water and dried off; she was starving, and it would be a long task to find breakfast food at this hour. Dressing, Lianne heard the door open and close and a faint call of "Milady?" in the outer room.
"Good morning," Lianne greeted the servant woman over-cheerfully, slyly eyeing the food in the woman's hands.
The servant, obviously more than a bit alarmed at the girl's morning gaiety, bobbed a cautious curtsy and replied, "Good morning to you, milady." She presented the tray of bread and fruit to Lianne, who just barely restrained herself from lunging at the food and devouring it greedily.
"Thank you!" she exclaimed and spun around to the small desk in the corner of the room, where she very gratefully gorged every last crumb.
"What do you plan to do today?" inquired the servant woman, making a statement more than asking a question.
Lianne emulated the woman's performance, asking, "I'm not sure. Have you any suggestions?"
She smiled, aware of the tactic's acknowledgement. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Since you conveniently slept through this morning's religious services—oh, don't worry about it," dismissed the servant, waving away Lianne's sudden dismay. "Hardly anyone except the most ball-hating, most stubborn conservatives attends the morning after a large ball. The squires, if not attending to their knightmasters, will be training; you can always watch them in the practice courts." She grinned knowingly at Lianne. "Perhaps you could talk one them into giving you a grand tour. Even if not, you should still look around the University and the Hall of Portraits, they're worth it. If you are intent on wandering about the Palace itself, though, please find a servant to wander with you. Too many newcomers to the Palace have found themselves in the dungeon when they were looking for the solar conservatory. Oh yes! Can't forget the solar conservatory—or the gardens, of course…"
Half an hour later, Lianne headed towards into the deep of the Palace armed with a map of its interior, another map of the University, and yet another map of the outer grounds. Refusing to wimpily (a/n: teehee, I love making up my own words) implore her squire friends for accompaniment, she toured the Hall of Portraits, the royal gardens, and the other attractions of the Palace with the simple company of her maps. Although Lianne certainly didn't enjoy herself nearly as fully as she could have, her usually dormant (but incredibly headstrong when it was present) Contè pride remained intact. She had never been—and still refused to be—a dependent, fragile noble flower. At last, Lianne assented to journeying down to the squires' and pages' practice courts.
Leaning against the fence, Lianne joined a familiar figure—the ever-lovely Lady Elise, who disdainfully ignored her new companion. From the young woman's snobbish and lofty demeanor, it was almost impossible to tell that she and Lianne were the same age, or that they were anywhere near in station.
On the courts, two young men—squires, Lianne presumed, looking to colors they wore—prepared to duel.
"You offend the honor of my Lady by daring to call her your own!" fiercely shouted the squire in royal colors. //Oh, no,// Lianne though to herself. //Please don't let it be who I think it is.//
The other squire had returned with his own insult, to which Liam roared and waved his sword wildly; immediately, metal clashed and the boys (//because that's what they are,// Lianne affirmed, disgusted) commenced battle. Next to Lianne, Lady Elise watched, smirking slyly.
Unable to stomach any more of Lady Elise's cunning or her brother's idiocy, Lianne turned on her heel and walked firmly away from the intrigue. Hypothesizing that she might encounter other friends at the destination, she eventually arrived at the archery grounds.
A brunet squire drew back his bow with intense sobriety, let loose, and looked on appraisingly as the arrow hit dead center of the target. A hand shading his brow, the unmistakable archer Willas of Disart faced the squire next to him in challenge. As the black-haired young man prepared to shoot, Willas caught a glimpse of Lianne and bellowed, "Oy! Lianne!"
His companion's arrow jerked out of the bow and, after narrowly missing the head of the boy next to him, sped over the tall netting that backed the archery targets.
Julian waved, unabashed at his antics, and strolled over to Lianne alongside Willas.
"That's why you always win at archery," Julian was muttering to his friend. "In fact, I can't remember a time where you weren't trying to distract me or anyone else you shoot with…"
"Care to take a hand at the bow?" Willas enticingly offered the instrument of his art to Lianne.
"Oh, no thank you," Lianne quickly declined. "You're too promising a squire to die today with my arrow through your head."
"Good choice," Julian praised. "I don't think I could stand another moment in the archery range. Perhaps you would like to tour the Hall of Portraits?"
"I've already been," she replied, immediately grateful that she had not earlier asked them for accompaniment.
"Ah." A look of surprise and bewilderment crossed both their faces; obviously, her response was not what they had expected.
"Neither the Royal Gardens nor the Menagerie, I suppose?" asked Willas.
"No, I've been there this morning also." Pleased at their reaction, Lianne added, "Thank you for the offer, though."
Smiling in strange wondering speculation, Julian proposed, "The University—you can't have toured the entire University this morning along with the entire Palace."
"I haven't seen the University yet," she admitted. "I was planning to go after midday meal."
"Alone?" Willas was completely incredulous at her nonconformist conduct.
Lianne shrugged, commenting, "I'm not so helpless that I always need to seek out an escort."
"Does that mean you wouldn't care for company?" Julian inquired off- handedly.
She smiled; she had maintained her independence and self-respect but had gained friends to enjoy the afternoon with. "Yes, I believe I would appreciate company."
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"So, have you been thinking about participating in the Great Games (okay, lame name, I'm feeling noncreative) this year? For music, I mean?" Julian queried, holding the hallway door open.
Lianne wasn't sure whether to gasp or laugh hysterically at the mere thought. Finally, after staring dubiously at her friend for a long while, she demanded, "Are you crazy? I don't have the kind of talent to compete in the Games." Shaking her head, Lianne hugged the sitar that she carried closer to her chest and walked out of the University they had just finished exploring. When they had visited the University's musical library—which provided and lent out not only books on musical theory but instruments and specialized music—Lianne couldn't resist borrowing the exotic instrument and a stack of sitar compositions.
Four years ago, the nations of the Scanran Compact—the peace treaty which had ended the war between Tortall and its allies and Scanra and its allies—agreed to honor their reconciliation every four-year anniversary through the Great Games. The Games involved competition in every venue, from magery to arts to physical ability; however, violent altercations frequently broke out between long-rivaling nations. Despite problems, its purpose, to unite the kingdoms of the west, had been well-achieved in its inaugural year, and the next Games were well on schedule. Lianne's first year at the haMinch manor, the year of the Games' beginning, the Lady haMinch and Lianne had journeyed to Corus for one week to view the musical events. During that time, Lianne had seen the most amazing, most talented artists in the world display their best work, and she had looked forward excitedly to the Games' second appearance.
"Don't be so sure," Julian warned. "I heard with my own ears the way you played that instrument you're holding; you'd never even laid eyes on it before today."
"Thank you for the honor, though I know it is utterly misplaced." Lianne fiddled with the sitar strings uncomfortably. "How about we just drop the subject? I simply couldn't ever compete."
"Fine," Julian muttered, "but you know that anyone can enter the runnings. You don't have anything to lose."
Lianne glared at him; she hated incorrect compliments, and she hated competitions. In any type of opposition, if she won, she felt guilty for winning and sorry for the loser, while if she lost, she felt miserable and was filled with intolerable self-pity. Either situation, she ended up hurt.
"Well, I'm off to serve Milord Irenroha," remarked Willas, waving farewell once they reached the small courtyard outside the kitchens. "He's eating tonight in his rooms, some kind of fever, and he likes his supper prompt." Lianne and Julian bid him goodbye and wished him luck with his knightmaster's infamous irritability.
"Are you going to sup in the Great Dining Hall?" Julian asked Lianne as they headed into the palace.
"No, I'm actually not too hungry. I had a large lunch, and I just can't wait to experiment with this sitar." She stroked the instrument's inlaid wood lovingly. "I thought I'd skip dinner and try out the music I picked up."
"Well, I am starved. If you want, I'll show you the Palace's music library," Julian proposed. "It doesn't have as many resources as the University's music library, but it'll provide any extra texts you need."
"Thank you," Lianne said gratefully, still possessively clutching her sitar. "I'm sure it will be a nice, private place to play."
Julian led her into a large room with lofty ceilings and large walls that were lined with antique instruments in glass cases and portraits of famous musicians.
"Have fun," he instructed her as she sat at in a comfortable red armchair. "I'm happily off to—"
"Bbbllluuuuuuuuurrrggghhhh…." interrupted a load moan. Julian and Lianne turned to see what had made the hideous noise, and at once they recognized the slumped-over figure that stank of wine.
"Oh, no," Lianne groaned. "Please tell me this isn't happening…"
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Alrighty then…Told ya it was super-long (at least for me)! Please review if you think it deserving. Thanks for reading!