2-17-03-THIS IS THE NEWEST EPISODE. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.

Due to my own laziness, and the kindness of a friend, this episode comes courtesy of the Edreya Natalya. She does not have the rights to these characters, locales, and events either, and takes no responsibility for the misuse and satirization of said characters, etc.

Curfew I

Lady Sandrilene fa Toren had quietly unlocked the front door, tiptoed through the hall, and was halfway up the stairs when a voice bellowed,

"SANDRILENE! WHERE IN THE GODS' NAMES HAVE YOU BEEN?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS, YOUNG LADY?!?!" Sandry froze, mentally cursing herself. Apparently, her great uncle was not sound asleep as she had thought; he was wide-awake, standing at the foot of the staircase in his nightshirt. The lit match he held aloft illuminated his face, a complete mask of rage.

"Come down to my study at once and explain yourself!" Duke Vedris, supreme ruler of Emelan, yelled, no more calmly, giving his niece another fearsome glare before stalking off down the hallway, muttering to himself. Sandry sighed and reluctantly returned to the ground floor, dragging her feet on her way. In the past few months, she had become an expert in dealing with her uncle's displeasure, but his beginning the conversation in a rage did not bode well for Sandry. She intended to give him as much time to cool down as possible. Slipping quietly into the study, she slid the door shut, then stood before her uncle, her blue eyes proud and defiant.

"So, my wayward niece sees fit to return home at last," he remarked dryly. "I don't suppose you would care to explain yourself?" Although Vedris appeared much calmer, his snapping eyes warned Sandry that his anger had not subsided.

"I went out with my friends, like I told you I would. We returned a bit late, as I told you we might. I don't understand the problem," Sandry stated firmly.

"The problem? The problem? My niece is prowling city streets at night like a harlot and she is at a loss the describe the problem?" Vedris cried.

"But I told you where I was going-" Sandry started, deciding not to contest her uncle's choice of words just then.

"That makes no difference!" Vedris roared, leaping from his chair. "You have returned at an hour much too late for propriety! You will bring shame on your good name!"

Sandry rolled her eyes. "I doubt the people of Summersea are interested in the hours I keep."

"On the contrary, my dear, a person in your position cannot be too careful. You must take great care to protect your reputation," he warned loudly.

"I don't believe this!" Sandry muttered angrily.

Vedris proceeded as if he had not heard. "Maybe at that temple- well I regret entrusting your tender years to that pack of liberal fools- they allowed you to run wild, but while under my roof, you shall adhere to my codes of behavior!"

"That 'pack of liberal fools' includes the best mages in your realm!" Sandry countered, eyes blazing blue fire. "Where would you be without them?"

"Great mages or no, they have encouraged in my niece that which I would had been eradicated!" Vedris paced angrily around the room.

"At least they trusted me! They didn't treat me like a child!" cried Sandry.

"A trust sadly misplaced, as you have already this night betrayed mine," Vedris observed. Whirling to face his niece, he clenched his fist and slammed it into the tabletop, adding, "But we avoid the issue. As you have failed to sufficiently excuse your tardiness, I will now pass judgment upon you, and assign suitable reparations and penance."

"You're acting like I'm a criminal!" Sandry exclaimed. "I'm a teenager, Uncle! I just want to have a little fun!"

"'A little fun'?" echoed Vedris dangerously. "What does this 'fun' consist of?"

Now what? Sandry wondered, wary of the turn this conversation was taking; now she would certainly be up half the night further debating her virtue. Bets on how many times he calls me a harlot, she thought wearily. Aloud, she said, " You know: seeing my friends. I wasn't that late, and you knew where I was. I don't see what's left to discuss."

"In my day, "Vedris announced as his niece groaned inwardly, "the only people to roam the night were thieves and harlots." (That's one! Sandry noted.) "I hardly believe the situation has changed so much?" He peered closely at her as he delivered this question.

"Honestly, Uncle!" Sandry yelled. "You hold Council meetings at night and go for walks with Yazmin at night. Yazmin even performs at night!" Vedris's face flushed an astonishing shade of purple. Not entirely sure if he was embarrassed or enraged, Sandry pressed heedlessly on. "Isn't that just the same? Or is it that when it's you, or your precious Yazmin, it's perfectly proper, but it makes me a slutty criminal?"

"Sandrilene!" the duke was shocked. "Watch your language, young lady!"

"Well, isn't it the same?" she demanded. "It's hypocritical and you know it. No one can criticize Yazmin, but-"

"The cases are entirely different, and I will thank you to leave Yazmin out of this!" roared Vedris, still purple-faced.

"Open your eyes, Uncle!" shouted the girl. "I wait up for you all the time. Your meetings run later than this quite often, and you know it. You have no grounds to attack me like this!"

"I-I-I," the duke sputtered. The room was silent for a minute. Sandry waited expectantly until her uncle broke the silence.

"The hour is late. I am going to bed, and you would be wise to do the same. We will finish this discussion later." The duke hurried from the room, avoiding his niece's gaze. Sandry watched him retreat, a victorious smile lighting her proud face.