Chapter Thirteen

Author's Note: This chapter is rather long, so you may want to go make a coffee or something before you begin… or at least turn on the central heating…

Anyway, I HATE dinner parties, I always feel out of my depth at them, so I can really feel for Boa in this chapter.

Well, I worked super hard on this chapter, so I hope you like it!

I would rather starve

The room was dark, but Boa found her eyes grew accustomed after a time, and she began to make out shapes within the dim setting. From somewhere in the room, shrouded in darkness came a voice so unimpressed that it sounded almost bored.

"So," it said with a long pause that seemed to come from fatigue than anything else. "That's the princess is it?"

Boa felt Carrion's hand on the small of her back, so very lightly he pushed her forward.

"Take no notice," he instructed. "You've entered the lion's den now, expect to be ripped apart."

Boa looked up into his face with worried eyes. This whole scene looked too much for her. She had never attended any function like this without her mother before now, and she was missing the guidance and the protection that offered.

All right, Boa thought after Carrion refused to respond to her pleading eyes. If she were to be attacked here, she would have to do her best to fight back. After all, she couldn't ever imagine her brother being lost for words, and she was made of the same stuff.

"Grandmother," Carrion said, moving his hand from Boa's back to her shoulder. "Yes, this is Princess Boa."

As they walked forward, Mater Motley's face came into sight. Only her face, pale and heavily marked with age was illuminated, the rest of her hid in shadows. Boa's eyes widened. The hideous face she remembered in the nightmares of her childhood had come to life, the woman looked beyond old to her young eyes.

"Hmfp," was all Motley said to that.

Her pale but piercing eyes ran the length of Boa's dress, finding fault everywhere. Her hips too wide, her waist to small. Her legs too short, her lips too full. Boa could read every disparagement on the old woman's face because she let it show.

"Please take a seat," Carrion offered pulling out a chair for her at the table.

Well at least someone has some manners, Boa thought as she took the chair.

"Thank you," she replied as she sat. "And thank you for the invitation to dine, it was not expected."

She was determined at least to try and be civil and polite, if only for Carrion's sake. Motley was scowling, which was a frightening prospect, she hadn't expected the girl to find her voice in front of her, and she was slightly thrown. She had expected a shy little girl, but this was a confident young woman. But never mind, she would still knock her down.

"A glass of wine for our guest," Carrion ordered, causing a scuttle of servants and a bottle of white wine to be held over Boa's glass.

"Oh, thank you," Boa replied and the waiter began to pour. Boa thought he was being rather generous, until she realised she was supposed to tell him when to stop. "That's lovely."

Carrion took a seat next to Boa, and Motley seated herself opposite them. Even though the table was wide, Boa still felt as if, if she were to move her feet, she'd kick the woman.

There was silence, and no one looked as if they were going to venture a topic. So, Boa took a deep breath and decided she ought to start.

"The weather here is actually rather warm! I was afraid it would be very cold, since there is no sun."

"The sun is not necessary," Motley replied in such a cutting way that Boa felt she should be silent again, but that was impossible, silence would be even worse.

"Well, yes I can see that…" Boa said, her tone sounding hard after her rebuff. She turned to Carrion, "I thought I would have to wear my coat!"

"The warmth is not the weather," Carrion explained. His voice was level and calm, and Boa felt her unease at the prospect of silence disappear. "Outside the city you will freeze unless suitably prepared. The temperature in the city is high through pollution. And they say pollution is bad," Carrion said with a laugh.

"Pollution is bad," Boa corrected.

"Says who?" Carrion challenged.

Boa thought for a moment. Well, everyone, it seemed to be universally acknowledged that pollution was destructive.

"It destroys things," Boa ventured feebly. She felt very inferior. What had she spent all her time learning in school? Why hadn't she ever been taught anything useful? She knew pollution was bad; but it had never really occurred to her that it might advantage some.

"It destroys things," Carrion repeated her innocent words as if they were inspirational to him, as if he had never thought of something so simple in all his life.

"Others may think as they wish, but it has only benefited us. You're rules of what is good and bad seem a little too clear cut for me."

Motley didn't like the conversation; it was too easy flowing. Neither was shy with what their opinions were, and that wasn't what she wanted to be hearing. Not only that, but they were paying her no heed, and she needed to put a stop to it right away.

She looked at Boa, searching for her weakness. It was clear that the girl was full of pride, not vain, but very proud. Knock her in this way, and she would soon succumb to silence.

"You're teeth are rather white," Motley said in such a way that made Boa ashamed of brushing them. "Are they your own?"

Boa's smile vanished. She could have gaped; such was the abruptness of the rude question that Boa didn't know how to reply. She felt she wanted to shout, but gaping and screaming wouldn't look very attractive, so she gripped the tablecloth, and replied.

"Yes. Why?"

"I am glad. I detest unhealthy people. There are too many in Midnight, they should all be horsewhipped. Lazy is what it is. Filthy people living in squalor, it disgusts me."

"Surely that says more about the education and medical treatment these people are receiving than their own personalities. If you put more effort into creating better homes for these people, or better schools for their children…" Boa replied, her mind slipping into work mode. She couldn't believe Motley was confessing to her subjects living in poverty at the dinner table.

"Grandmother disapproves of my hospital, she calls it a waste of time, and calls me far worse things besides. Your reforms will fall on deaf ears," Carrion warned as he saw Boa becoming defensive, and back on her quest for a better life for all.

"You should look after the poor, they are backbone of society," Boa said. She found her words from something she remembered her father saying, and since it was he who said them, she believed in it entirely.

"Then we are crippled to be sure," Motley replied with a smirk. "But if our poor is to be looked after in the way you look after your orphans, then I think they are happy to be ignored."

Boa was put down, she could think of no way to turn the attack around. She was not as skilled at this as the old woman; she had been at a disadvantage from the beginning. But it was not only her that was on the receiving end of the hag's insults; even Lord Carrion was called into disapproval.

"You are looking thin, you are not eating enough. I warned you running backwards and forwards from that accursed island would tell on your face, and all for some numbskull girl!" Motley said, but not in concern for his health, but to disapprove of his actions over the last few years.

"You should take a leaf out of Boa's book, for she looks rather plump," Motley continued not caring where she stabbed her poison.

Boa openly gaped at her now, her mind wouldn't even let her contemplate what she had just been forced to listen to. Plump? No one had ever dared!

"More wine for my grandson!" Motley called.

Either Motley was entirely unaware that her words had been so cutting and offensive, or she was such a good actress that she played the part of being uncaring and not noticing with award winning skill.

She looked away for a moment to give some orders to one of the waiters. Carrion seized his chance to give a kind supportive word to Boa. At least, that was his aim anyway.

"Don't pay any attention, you are not fat."

"Fat!" Boa shrieked bringing all eyes back on her.

"I mean plump!" Carrion quickly amended, but he had no idea what had caused offence. He'd spoken the truth after all.

He had no idea why the mention of Boa's weight had knocked her for six, he himself never cared three straws for his clothing measurements, and so it was incomprehensible to him. She looked the perfect figure to him, true she wasn't skinny, but he wouldn't want her that way. How she could even consider his grandmother's words was insane.

Of course, had he had more experience with ladies, he would have realised that mentioning the three lettered F word in their presence, especially in such a flippant way was a no no. As it was, he had learned today that it induced hysterics.

Motley made sure Carrion was served more of everything than anyone else, and she watched his plate like a hawk.

"You are going to eat all of that," she instructed as if speaking to a child. "If I have to see anymore of your bones poking though your skin…"

She didn't need to end her sentence; the company already knew the punishment would be nasty.

Boa paled, the thought of bones sticking through skin wasn't doing too much for her appetite, plus the fact that all she could see on her plate was calories.

While there was a moment of blissful quiet, the waiter picked up the gravy boat and offered to pour some on Boa's dinner. She moved her cutlery out of the way and waited, but Motley beat her to it.

"No gravy for the princess, she's watching her weight."

Right that's it, Boa decided. No wonder Carrion was as he was when constant putdowns were dinnertime conversation.

"So," Motley said.

Boa looked at the ceiling; if there was anyone up there, please would they save her now?

"Here we go again," she said under her breath, she caught Carrion smiling out of the corner of her eye.

"This one's staying is she?"

"Yes," Carrion answered before taking a sip of his wine.

"Don't say 'yes' like that, you know what my question meant!" Motley clearly wasn't happy with the reply.

Boa didn't understand the question; she kept her eyes on the table decorations. They were decidedly depressing she thought.

"Your question is distasteful in the present company, you will keep questions like that to yourself until I choose to answer them."

Boa looked up now, Motley had been silenced. Carrion was back on her side, the tables had turned. This was her chance to strike back; she had taken too much abuse already.

"I must say," Boa said, taking her time to complete her sentence with a long leisurely pause. "That has to be the ugliest dress I have ever seen. What's it made of? Dead things?"

"Yes," Motley replied calmly. She watched the girl start; you weren't expecting that were you princess?

"Oh," Boa said at the unexpectedness of the answer, and then "Oh," again in disgust.

"Grandmother is making a grand army."

"Making?"

"Yes, making. It requires great skill, and only the best seamstresses in Midnight are allowed to assist with its creation. When it is finished it will be the greatest army ever seen."

"Why would you need such an army Christopher? Such an army as you describe, an unnatural one, could only mean unhappiness, unease and even death to many. What are your plans that you cannot progress without words or negotiations?"

"Our plans will not be welcomed. Why! Even your father has an army, why shouldn't my grandson, Lord of Midnight, be without the same power? He will have the greatest army ever beheld, and no one will ever challenge him. That is my gift to him, I do my duty by the Lord as every subject will do."

Boa thought that a poor return for a murdered family.

"They will hate you, power is always looked upon with fearful eyes. Why bring that upon yourself?" She turned to Carrion directly. "You are respected for your leadership and strength of character, why choose to be respected only because you are feared?"

"What I choose to do is none of your concern," he said, and then dropping his voice so Motley wouldn't hear, he added, "One day you may be entitled to advise and order me, but not yet."

"An army will secure the Carrion family forever, and this bloodline, my blood into the future," Motley said proudly.

"Grandmother has a thing about blood."

"Yes, I can believe…"

"She believes it should be kept pure. She wishes me to marry a maiden from Midnight. I think even a peasant girl would do as long as she was Midnight born," Carrion said jokingly.

"A Midnight girl from a quality family will know her place and will never shame you, and your children would be true heirs, not crossbreeds," Motley said looking at Boa as if she was one of these 'crossbreeds'.

Boa, as usual, missed the underhand meaning of what was being said.

"Well, maybe your grandmother is right?"

Carrion gave her a hard stare and Motley sat back in her chair. Yes, turn on one another; break each other now where I can see it. It was so easy to do, to set them fighting when they had been so united before.

"Why did you even come here?" Carrion demanded sharply.

Boa blinked and looked at him blankly.

"Pardon?" she enquired.

"Is this some sort of plan you arranged with Hobb? Humiliation is it? I can promise you now, that should he ever show his face again on my island he will wish he had not!"

"What are you talking about?" Boa queried.

"I'm talking about your games!"

Boa was flustered with confusion, and her mind was desperately trying to recall what she might have said wrong, but she could not find what had caused this argument. Her eyes moved rapidly, searching his for some sort of clue.

"All I said was, maybe your grandmother's right. Only 'maybe'. I don't understand and how I've offended you."

"Perhaps the princess feels herself unworthy. She could not marry someone as high standing as my grandson, she is not of the same social standing after all."

Boa looked up sharply. Not of the same social standing? How dare she?

"I am! I am a princess. I can marry Christopher, I can!"

"Boa sit down," Carrion ordered.

Boa didn't even realise she had stood up.

"Well, I stand corrected," Motley, replied, a smile on her face. Her work was done; all she need do now was watch it all fall apart.

Boa refused desert and left the room, she could not stand another minute of being insulted. Enough was enough; she would wait for Carrion outside the door.

Word Count: 2,610… I need to take a break now.