A/N: After a pathetically long time, something new appears and it is short. Apologies and thank yous to whoever is still reading this. The editing process is going slowly, but I decided to finish this scene instead of doing French homework.
Chapter 16
"Um...your majesty?" Raven looked into the office, a bit on edge. Why did he want to speak with her? Alone for that matter. The questioned prince motioned for the girl to enter, continuing to make notes as Raven stepped into the room.
Once again she examined the Prince's office, taking in the subtle architectural details until she came to the plastered ceiling once more. It really was a beautiful piece of work, the Ha'Minch thistle. The artisans had been very careful, even filling in the textures of each leaf and petal.
Staring up at the ceiling, appreciating the artwork, she did not hear the Prince at first.
"Excuse me, Miss Trallem...?" Liam asked, his light voice calling Raven back to reality.
"Y-yes." Raven snapped to attention, a faint blush creeping over her cheeks, as she looked back to the now standing prince. He had interesting eyes; they looked as though they knew what and where anything could happen. "Forgive me, your majesty-."
"Highness." Liam interjected calmly. "The proper terms for a prince are 'your highness', 'my prince' or 'my lord'...or you refer to them by name."
"Eh...yes, yes. Forgive me, your highness, for my lack of attention. What is it that require of me, my lord?"
Liam's mouth twitched into the hint of a smile at the violinist's use of the titles.
"I was wondering about your history, training and why your face seems new to me every time I look away, even though I know it has not changed?"
If Raven had not been asked such blunt questions before she likely would have jerked violently at having to lie or have her secrets laid bare.
"Ah...I see. May I sit, my prince?" Raven asked with a carefully wrought smile, sweet enough to be pleasant but not too sweet to attract specific attention. Liam waved a hand at the plush chairs that were opposite him at his desk, as he himself sat. Raven sat and thought of everything she could say without lying...just in case.
"I was born in Maren to a lower-class family; at a young age I started to help out by doing random little jobs...nothing too significant, mainly just keeping an eye on, and...carrying, a few things." So far, so good. "However, around my tenth birthday, I was apprenticed to and taken in by a middle-upper-class gentleman, who made his way as a music teacher and instrument maker. I basically kept an eye on supplies, while he taught me nearly everything I know...how to figure, read, play and fix several instruments."
"What happened to him? You speak of him in past tense." Raven looked Liam in the face, saw the genuine interest, and sighed, looking away.
"He died in a wagon accident." She said blandly. "One of his music friends took me in and helped me further develop my skill. Eventually, it came time for me to leave home...and, with no small degree of luck and chance, I found myself as a farming assistant in Tortall."
"Is that so?" Liam leaned back in his seat, using the shift in position to withdraw his toes momentarily from the small dish of burnbright powder stashed under his desk. Her story, while a bit dramatic, seemed sound and the powder hadn't detected a lie in it. "You still haven't answered all my questions, Miss Trallem. This illusion of yours..."
"Um...about that...It's not exactly mine..." Now Raven's mind went into overdrive. What could she say that wouldn't arouse suspicions of her or Anelee? "That is...Mistress Draper made it because people in the market place were...staring at us and-."
"Why does this illusion only remain on you?" interrupted Liam, a tad annoyed with the violinist's broken sentences. Raven kept her face calm as she formulated an excuse in her mind.
"I am guessing that Mistress Draper simply forgot to remove it, as she is rather tired at the present." Raven resisted the urge to shrug and calmly looked at the prince, waiting for his verdict. He looked pensive and as if he wanted to press for answers.
Abruptly, a knock of the office's door came, and the prince's aide, Edgard, stuck his head into the room. "Your Highness, if this is a bad time, I will inform the event decorators to come back another time."
Liam involuntarily groaned, withdrawing his foot from the dish of burnbright powder as he stood. Discretely wiping his foot on the carpet, he smiled pleasantly at Raven. "I hope we can continue our conversation some other time, Miss Trallem."
Raven, recognizing a dismissal, leapt to her feet, bowed and hurried out of the room, silently thanking all the Gods she could think of for the interruption. Meanwhile, Liam stuffed his foot into his boot, as he was barraged about questions about colour, fabric, flowers and everything else under a decorator's sun.
He would figure her out before the competition was over, just she wait.
SIE: Lordy, was that pathetic...