A/N: Oddly, I happen to be feeling generous today (who knew this day would ever come?) and in a happy mood. So many reviews!! I know I take too long to update, but honestly, did you actually think for a minute that I'd update everyday? Anyway, I'm now providing answers to reviews, as I've had a good day :)
blueforest – Thanks so much! I hope I didn't make anybody wait to long... I sincerely do. I've been writing for a while so I guess that explains my age thing... and I don't really read vampire books, but I'll check out the Amelia Atwater Rhodes books though. They sound interesting :)
devilish guitarist – Thank you! I love Gypsies too... they possess all the coolness that those stuffy nobles lack... but except for Clement, of course, whom we all adore. Prisoner in the dungeon seemed kind of cruel and gives her no chance to get to know Clement, so I went for guest instead. It's been a key idea from the start, and I'm ecstatic that you liked it!
Fou Fou – I know, don't you love that? Their fights are so fun... when they're not serious. I think I'll make them fight over favorite desserts next...
Kadesh – Wow, thanks :) I really thought I didn't add enough detail, but I'm glad that I satisfied! Everyone seems to be suggesting Robin McKinley, lol... her/his books are definitely going on my list.
Arein – Eragon? No, but I have a friend who is reading it... is it good? Wait! Don't tell me! I wanna read it and find out for myself :D
Kerricarri – Lots of detail? Wow, lol. I have just been rendered speechless... not. Lol, thanks! I feel so happy and appreciated ... did you seriously think it was a novel? And I agree with you about Cinderella... that girl just has no will whatsoever. If you were enslaved by two stupid and ugly stepsisters and an equally appalling stepmother, wouldn't you run? Fight? Get angry? Especially when you're not leaving anything behind... but no, Cinderella's too sweet a lady. Ah well. At least I know Rozenta/Eszti shall be nothing of the sort ::grins maliciously:: That gypsy seeks trouble with her mulish head...
Stubble96 – Romance-fantasy-adventures... who doesn't love those? Luna Boks, you say? Did I spell it correctly? And thank you! See, I updated? Yes, it is a miracle...
chava – I like fast-paced... I hope I can manage to make it go at an appreciative speed instead of wasting time on filler chapters. Maybe I'll add just one filler chapter, for the drama-loving readers out there. And you're not exactly clear on why she minds being a noble? So you're wondering why she dislikes it? Well... I can answer that question. Gypsies have been prejudiced by nobles to be witches and enchanters and things of the sort (and I am not making this up!) for years and years and so it peeves Rozenta/Eszti that she has to take up such an act. And I suppose she doesn't enjoy life at court, as its so formal and wicked. Ah well. If I were her, I'd take advantage of it and boss people around. That'd be fun. And thank you for your suggestions!
sealednectar – My story has potential? Yay! I'm striving for fifty reviews by the end of the story, to keep my standards low as to avoid disappointment. And yes, I am twelve and it's so good to meet another middle-schooler. You are a middle-schooler, right? And I love L-J stories too, hate-love is another of my favorite reading fanfic-categories. Who doesn't love love-hate?
TrudiRose – Blue vs. green.... I had an argument recently with a friend regarding that and I suppose that's where I got the idea, lol. I was going for blue, as you can tell. And I am extremely glad you liked the riding descriptions, thank you and the day after my bad day turned out to be great. Thanks for reviewing!
You've all spoiled me, really... so can I expect at least 5 reviews for this chapter? Can I? Come on, 5 is NOT a lot...
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Chapter Six: Torrent of Flames
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Sad and pitiful though it is, I owed Clement for wearing such risky outfits during that day riding, nearly exposing my Gypsy identity. He would not leave me alone about this for the longest time until I shut the door to my chambers in his face, and immediately rued my actions. Such behavior was not to be done without consequence around royalty. Although I was immensely fortunate to have done that without any witness at all, word leaked out about it somehow. Through Clement, I'd bet my life upon it. Fluttery noblewomen in their bedecked layers of gown and little lace-edged fans passed me and began feverish whispering. Their subtlety was such that I could hear several words. I often grunted and continued on with whatever task I had been in the process of completing, but I knew that I would have to treat Clement better if I fancied having my head on my shoulders. I did not greet the idea with very pleasant thoughts, to say the least of it.
On that very day that I experienced the difficulties of being gossiped about, Marguerite whisked up to me and rescheduled her luncheon party. I knew why. She probably wouldn't want me in her presence for a while until all the foolish twittering died down, and then I could be seen with her again. Probably as another statistic in her popularity list. I didn't care. Clement insisted that I go, so I was forced to attend the luncheon, whether it was rescheduled to compliment me or rescheduled to affront.
I spent that entire day with Eder and Elaine, especially since both had the day off. Clement was out for the day on a ride with some nobles willing to do acreage business, something I truly couldn't care less about. All day long Eder, Elaine, and I sat in the parlor and chattered on about our past and occasionally we took a short walk around the castle gardens, where the other noble ladies did not even think to enter. This was precisely of my preference. After finishing a quick walk through a torrent of chilly wind, we returned to the guest's parlor, selected a quick book for me, and found squashy seats by the fire.
"I suppose I will enjoy this book," I remarked, briefly skimming the pages of my newly selected novel. "It is a fantasy based on the fairies of old. During the time of mages and sorceresses with the elemental arcane arts born into them. I remember reading a story of similar settings, except that they dealt more with elves and gnomes and things of the like. In our Gypsy camp, fairy tales and tales of all sorts were beloved by all, and a tenfold more by me." I frowned sadly while the memory of my Gypsy camp still lingered on my tongue.
"Who doesn't love a good fairy tale, now, girl? I cannot remember a time when a little child rejected the telling of such a treasure. The stories do such wonders..." said Eder in a maternal tone, warm and affectionate. She reclined in her seat and folded her hands idly on the arms of her chair.
Elaine, who was staring meditatively into the fire, broke her gaze and turned it to us. I nearly shivered; the feel of those blank, beautiful eyes was always frosty, no matter how happy Elaine herself would be. Oh, how I longed to question her about those eyes...
"I have," she said softly, barely audible at all. My brow furrowed in mild speculation, as that rarely ever happened, but Eder's bearing saddened. Upon seeing the hidden message in Elaine's cold, unfeeling eyes, she had tensed slightly.
"Who?" Eder asked anxiously, her tone tinged with horror. However, it did not take a scholar's mind and brain to figure out that Eder knew who it was, for the evident dread in her voice could not count for nothing. Elaine looked once again into the fire and spoke, her voice now a wintry monotone.
"Marcella. I tried to tell her a story a few nights ago, but she did not trust me. Did not even like having me in her room for too long, the poor dear. I don't suppose she'd trust anyone any time soon, considering all the injustice King Ignatius has put her through, ordering her to be a servant. I suppose she now believes herself to be responsible for Leanne's death, when we all know perfectly well that is not, at the least, true."
Eder forced a heavy sigh, her age finally showing through her facial features. Elaine, though young and beautiful, seemed capable of looking tired and worn as she stared into the crackling fire. Fire danced in her clear, frosty, silver-blue eyes. My book, barely opened at all, lay neglected in my hands. My fingers supported it loosely and it began to slip from my palm. It could've burst into sudden flames and I wouldn't have paid it much mind.
"What is Marcella's story?" I asked in a small voice, for I knew that this was a dangerous topic indeed. Eder looked sharply at me but Elaine's gaze came to me once again. "I would like to know," I said hurriedly, in response to Eder's chilly glare.
"Now, now, Eder," Elaine said softly, her dreamy voice like silver bells ringing through a sunny, winter day. "She deserves the right to know. She simply sits here while we discuss such serious terms, and without a clue! She's been quiet enough about it to earn the right to know."
Elaine relaxed in her chair and smoothed her skirts, which I noticed were usually silken or of satin. She couldn't possibly be a servant with such a salary to afford such things, so I guessed that she was one of the ladies-in-waiting for the queen or for the noble visitors. She was indeed beautiful, with a tall, slender, and graceful figure and red-gold hair like bright sunlight on autumn leaves. I had never noticed her beauty before, for her stolid eyes usually drew the most attention. She seemed quite young too, perhaps simply nineteen or so. I was surprised, but hid it and waited for Eder's response. Eder had glanced at me, taken aback, and then smiled warmly, nodding.
"I'm sorry. Rozenta does deserve the right to know, and has been very quiet about it, the poor dear. Beg pardon I do, Lady. Elaine, why don't you tell? You know the story better than I, for you are the gossip queen of the castle."
Elaine smiled slightly at that, and I could've sworn on my grave that there was a slight, mischievous glint in her eyes. Just one, perhaps. However, that was such a rare ordeal that I grinned too, though for no apparent reason. The glint disappeared and Elaine resumed a clear, serious tone with which to tell her story.
"Well, it all began with Leanne Jadévorn, a lady-in-waiting who lived here in the palace. Everyone knew her well, and she was brilliant, outgoing, and absolutely beautiful. She had Marcella's huge – but not huge as in bulgy and unattractive – eyes, hazel streaked with gray and clear as two pools in spring. She was quite a sight, probably the most popular figure in the castle besides the royal family. With chestnut ringlets sweeping down her shoulders -"
Wow, I realized, Elaine is quite the storyteller.
"and a dazzling smile – she had such a lovely smile that lit up her entire face. Well anyway, though it's never been confirmed, everyone in the palace knows that Leanne unknowingly attracted the attention of King Ignatius – Prince Ignatius, at the instant he met her. It was such a romantic story, though it one that suffered many a heartache and obstacle. Prince Ignatius was betrothed long since to Princess Egeria of Nufal, a tiny yet valuable country that we had gained through their marriage. Tongues wagged wickedly when word leaked out that Leanne became pregnant -" I gasped involuntarily at that. "- and nearly everyone had a new theory as to why. Each theory included Prince Ignatius, of course. But the Prince's reputation had to be protected and soon everyone was being told that the father of Leanne's baby – Marcella – was a merchant who lived nearby. He was bribed by money, I guess, to go along with the joke, but everyone knew better. Marcella's features are quite similar to King Ignatius', you know -"
"Wait," I interrupted, lost in the story. I couldn't have read anything that would've interested me more. Finally, the mystery of Marcella and Leanne was being cleared up for me. "How come Marcella wasn't being sent away? Is that not the custom for illegitimate girls?"
Elaine paused gravely, her gaze hard on me. Then she spoke again. I heard Eder shift uncomfortably in a seat nearby.
"She would've been sent away, but wouldn't it seem strange after Marcella was declared to have been the merchant's daughter? Everyone would wonder why such an action was taking place... unless the baby was Prince Ignatius's. Marcella, as a baby, lived with the merchant and Leanne, who was living with the merchant to play on with the trick. However, the merchant died a few years later from disease and due to the contagiousness of the ailment, Leanne and Marcella moved back into the palace. They lived on peacefully as rich ladies-in-waiting – for Leanne inherited the merchant's prosperous fortune – until very recently."
Elaine paused, her stare icily hard. I waited for the rest of the explanation but when one did not come, I frowned. I knew this wasn't it, that there was more, and this did not please me at all. This was merely the past and background, and the more interesting bit was still being kept from me. I could read it in the way Elaine and Eder uneasily exchanged glances, in the subdued pale of their faces. I did not acknowledge this directly, but they must've read the signs. I leaned back in my chair and traced the picture on the cover of my book with a slender finger, but every now and then my gaze would stray to Elaine and Eder. There was pensive frown on my face and eyebrows were slightly raised.
Finally, Eder blew her cover by releasing a strong sigh. I knew what this meant. This made me grin. I sat up and put my book unceremoniously away.
"She knows this isn't it, Elaine," Eder grumbled irritably, shaking her head at me. This only made my smile grow even longer. Elaine smiled, a smile that could never touch her cold eyes, and pulled her autumn's curtain of hair gently behind her shoulders. Her unwavering gaze never left me as she tidied her hair.
"Of course, Eder," she said peacefully, her tone serene. "Rozenta is a clever girl and not one to be underestimated. There is, indeed, more."
I laughed, a merry songlike sound that made Eder's grim expression break into a grin. "You'd think I'd be satisfied with that bit? There is more, or else you'd be a great deal happier. Tell me."
Elaine's smiled faltered. "Well," she began bleakly. "the rest of the story is not so bright. As I said before, there was peace and most rumors began to die down, much to the delight of the royal family. Still, no one could doubt their romance. The clues in the way they simply looked at each other spoke plainer than words. There was once a day when Leanne and Marcella went out to the market. And believe me when I speak of this, for all the witnesses gave me full accounts.
It started as a small fire show in the bazaar, with a fire-juggler and a fire-eater. Leanne and Marcella were buying items nearby, but not directly close to the show. Marcella, however, wandered from her mother's side and wriggled to the front of the crowd, stunned by the magical display of tricks with fire. Suddenly, the fire-juggler's hand slipped and a torch fell to the stage and set the stage all aflame. Marcella was in the front, shrieking. Leanne did not notice her absence until the fire and until Marcella screamed in a panic. Leanne always had a heart of gold. No one could doubt that she would play heroine. She raced to the crowd and dodged through the weaving of fire, searching for her daughter.
No one knew what had happened to Leanne, but she emerged through the smoke with her weeping daughter in her arms and with a sore limp. Wheezing and hacking coughs, Leanne set her daughter gently down, but collapsed, gasping for air. Doctors were already there and struggled to save Leanne, but it was too late. Her lungs were probably already coated with the smoke's toxin. They managed to save Marcella, who had managed to hold her breath, but Leanne, who was breathing deeply to relax herself in the search of Marcella, had inhaled too much smoke. And King Ignatius did not take Leanne's death easily."
There was silence there. Shivering, I blinked and ran through the story in my head; it played like a play, only realer and with less nonsense poetry. Marcella getting lost in a torrent of fire and smoke; Leanne calling frantically for her daughter and following Marcella's screams; Leanne running into the sea of flame and fume; Leanne emerging with her brown-haired daughter clinging to her side, crying; Marcella unconscious, Leanne collapsing to the ground and wheezing without restraint; a pale-faced Leanne, her arms ashen and lips cold in the clutch of death."
Elaine drew a single shuddering breath, and a cold wisp of wind ran through Eder, myself, and Elaine. We were silent for a moment before Elaine boldly continued her story, which was better than any novel I could ever stick my nose into, for this tale at least was true.
"King Ignatius, maddened by his true lover's death, couldn't stand the sight of Leanne's big, attentive eyes watching him ruefully through Marcella. He ordered that she become a servant. He is now in a terrible state. Queen Egeria could do nothing to improve his mood. You know," Elaine added thoughtfully, her sad gaze now becoming a meditative one. "Queen Egeria never loved him as he never loved her. Her heart was taken, as was his. That is why they have only one child, Clement. But I will speak no more of that; it is a different story entirely."
I gasped, another involuntary move. Queen Egeria knew? Knew that her husband was loving her lady-in-waiting – and perhaps even had a child by her – and she didn't mind? I had seen her before and had been impressed; as a Nufalian, she was beautiful and strong of mind, with straight coal-black hair to her waist, eyes like sapphires, and plump cherry-red lips that pouted slightly. I would've expected a bit more fidelity from the husband who would be lucky enough to wed Egeria, but his heart was taken. From what Elaine said, her heart rested in the hands of another as well.
I was tempted to sigh again, but this time I held it. The life of a noble sounded so controlled, so complex, so unfair. You could barely call it a life. It was like giving up all of your privileges for the desires of others, and some more sensible than others. I would never had survived a life like that, being forced to marry for advantage and/or tradition or being forced to play the game of Webs, which is what we called the game of nobles back in the Gypsy camp. Webs. A perfect description of a noble's life. Back in the Gypsy camp, life was free and valuable and all day we laughed and sang and danced and did basic work to survive. Some of us practiced magic – but not evil magic – only to extend beyond the reaches of the rational, for us Gypsy folk were never rational.
Although people of rich roots would never understand, we were a carefree people with our heads stuck permanently in the clouds. And they would never come down.
My body relaxed and I sank in my chair. I was suddenly thankful that I only pretended to be of noble bearings, for I didn't think I would survive a true noble life. A life made as a web of lies was not a life at all.
I began to think of Clement and wondered how he – like his mother and father – would have to marry for advantage. Strangely, I felt a bit of regret along with the obvious sympathy. As low as he was in my opinion, I could think of hundred girls that would be perfectly compatible with him and my choices were reasonable: sweet, pretty, admirable daughters with many talents and a love for the gentle things. However, I knew perfectly well his bride-to-be would be nothing of the like, even if she wasn't Marguerite. Perhaps she'd seem sweet and kind at first, but then become worse than Marguerite in the end. A noble's life was a mysterious life, us Gypsies always quoted.
A sharp rap on the door startled us out of our thoughts. Two other raps came, quicker this time, and the door creaked open, showing a weary-looking Clement striding in through the door. He did this often; when he returned from an errand, he came to look for me and would simply sit and enter the conversation. It was a fun habit, but at the moment a grave one.
He grinned my way and sat down at the unoccupied seat near mine. "I knew I'd find you here, Rozenta," he said, beaming. "This seems to be your safe haven, is it not?"
I didn't reply. The thoughts of a noble's life still lingered gravely in my mind. I could almost see Marguerite standing behind his chair, a small simper pasted onto her face, a pasty hand possessively clutching his shoulder. My heart ached at the sight. He deserved a better future than that she-witch.
A/N: NOTHING happened in this Chapter! Ahhh! Believe it or not, I planned an arrangement of events, including a one-to-one conversation with Marcella. And Marcella's luncheon... and another activity with the ever-lovable Clement... but I like this Chapter anyway. A lot of secret-revealing, and major secrets at that. I hope you all like it, really I do, and I hope I get reviews! ::hint::
Preview: MUAHAHAHAHA! No preview... this was just for fun!
So read, review, and wait!... a long time!
