Her father dropped her off at fencing at around six in the afternoon and gave her a goodbye wave—she made sure not to create any further arguments as she had done the other time. She slipped out of the sports car and grabbed the duffle bag from the trunk. She gave her father one last wave of goodbye and then entered the pristine building she had not stepped in in a little over two years.
The weather was much more different now than it had been two years ago, and it was somewhat refreshing that she did not have to worry much about it since the memories were being kept supressed in the back of her mind.
She entered the change room and quickly changed out of her school uniform and into her fencing attire—including the chest protection plate. She usually hated the darn plastic plate, but the last time she had not worn it, the instructor scolded her for a good half hour. After placing on her fencing jacket, she slipped into the lame and did not forget to tighten her sleeve over her knee brace as to protect it even further.
There weren't many girls in the change room and so Arturia was quick to change and exit towards the arena. She walked past the boys' changing room and down the hallway further so that she would arrive at the main arena, once there, she placed on her helmet and waited on a bench in silence.
Her instructor, who wore a black suit, walked up to her sans helmet and a smile on his face, "Pendragon, you really came back. How are things?"
Arturia removed her helmet and gave him a courtesy smile, "Things are going well, Father is still hoping I take over the company."
"It's going up in the market, isn't it?"
"Yes, it's finally going up again after falling for a while. I'm hoping it only keeps going up and up from here."
"And your sister, how is she doing?"
Arturia sighed, "Morgana is in England until summer, she is seeing over our branch there, until I go and take care of it."
Her instructor smiled, "That sounds great, are you looking forward to going to England?"
"Umm," Arturia gave a nod, "Yes, it would be really nice."
More people trickled in and the instructor gave her one last smile before he walked to the middle of the large room. Arturia wasted no time in placing her mask back on and following behind. She stood still as the man recited some brief announcements and some two people were called up to fight.
"Êtes-vous prêts?"
It was about twenty minutes into the practice that it had been her turn to go up against someone. She readied her sabre and positioned herself at the starting point, her opponent before her also doing the same.
"En garde." The instructor announced and both of the fencers readied their sabres.
"Êtes-vous prêts?" The referee asked and Arturia and her opponent agreed, "Allez."
A whistle was blown and Arturia took a step forward, her arm positioned close to herself in a pronation trice position—the most common fencing position.
Arturia anticipated the strike of her opponent by their footwork and she immediately fell back into a parry defense as the man before her went for a thrust.
The person decided to opt for a lunge and Arturia was unable to deflect it. After the point was awarded to him, the two fencers went back to the starting point again. They approached each other once more and her opponent got her again with a disengage—a type of attack that changes direction so that the defender blocks the wrong position.
She got hit a couple of more times and it was getting her frustrated.
"You've lost your agility, haven't you Pendragon?" Her opponent commented and it raged Arturia a little more.
Upon the sound of the whistling, Arturia decided that a beat attack was best for the situation. She followed through with a thrust but the man blocked it. She then lunged, projecting herself forward with her bad knee, but her attack had been foreseen and a point in line was what got her. They both earned a point and walked back—Arturia was annoyed by this point.
Her blood was boiling at the thought of her loosing and the people whispering around them saying that she had lost her touch. The darn whistle blew for the tenth time and she provoked her offender with a feint, hoping to get a reaction and following with a disengage—ultimately earning a point.
Two whistles ended the fight and Arturia jumped off the mats in frustration of her loss. She had not practiced in a long while but it still irked her. She used to be the best that the fencing school had, and now she was falling down the ranks.
"Great fight, Pendragon." A hand was offered to her, she recognized the voice to be that of her opponent and she took off her helmet, ignoring the hand.
"Hmpf."
"Reckon you don't recognize me yet." The man spoke again and Arturia quirked an eyebrow to view him as he removed his helmet, "I feel a little hurt."
Arturia's eyes widened at the sight of her old friend, long platinum hair and a soft smile on his lips, "Bedivere?"
The man smiled wider and nodded, "Hey, how's the leg?"
The blonde female smiled back and shrugged, "Doing better." She answered, "Heard you're the best in the country."
"Do you watch my tournaments?" Bedivere asked, a cocky look in his eyes, "Am I good?"
Arturia grinned and shook her head as she sighed, "You're okay, kid, you're okay."
"You're just jealous I beat you back there, Miss Champion." He chuckled and sat next to her on the bench.
"Sure," she rolled her green eyes mockingly, "As if." They continued to catch up until it was time to find a partner and practice. It was logical that they partnered up and continued to practice for the rest of the night. They both went back to the change rooms after it was over and met up at the lobby.
They talked a little more until everyone had left and it was only them that were left behind.
She sat patiently waiting for her father to pick her up, Bedivere sitting next to her and trying to strike up a conversation. It wasn't that Arturia was being rude, it was just that she wanted to keep silent for she waited with anticipation. She answered Bedivere with short and simple answers so that he would get the point that she was not in the mood of making a conversation for she was rather unsettled.
To her relief, she heard her father's sports car drive in and she gave Bedivere a prompt wave as she left the building. She closed the car door shut behind herself after she had settled in her seat, she greeted her father and leaned her head against the glass. She closed her eyes as the classical music filled the small car.
Arturia groaned as her mother drove up to the building and slowed to a halt, "No, mother!"
"Arturia, just listen to me." Her mother glared at her, "We'll continue after Fencing."
"I thought I told you that I could make my own decisions." Arturia slammed the car door behind herself as she stomped up the short stair case in front of the Fencing school building. Her entire fencing class had been soured with the fight she had had with her mother and both Bedivere and Lancelot were trying to calm her down, "I told her to stop it with the whole arranged marriage thing but she just doesn't get it."
"Arturia," Lancelot spoke, "I understand, but you have to listen to your mother."
"Lancelot! I don't want to get married to Gilgamesh. Gilgamesh!"
"Didn't she say she was going to find someone else?" Bedivere sat next to her with his arms crossed over his chest.
Arturia rolled her eyes and sat back, "I highly doubt it. Who else is she going to find who is as remotely rich as Gilgamesh? All my father wants is to make our company richer and my mother won't even back me up. It's so not fair."
It wasn't long before her mother picked her up and Arturia was hoping that she would not talk about it.
Igraine looked at her daughter and smiled, "Hey, sweetie, so I found a guy you would totally like." She spoke as she drove into the night and made her way back to their house.
Arturia grunted and crossed her arms over her chest, "I thought I told you that I did not want an arranged marriage. I told you!"
"If you would just listen, you would understand." Her mother shook her head, keeping her eyes on the road, "He is the son of a wealthy business man in Ireland. In fact, his father practically owns the market there. I did some research on him and I think he would be perfect for you."
"Mother! I said that I did not want this. I don't care who he is! I don't want this!"
Igraine let out a groan, "Just listen to me! He is a good suitor; he seems to be a good man as well."
"Mother, I don't want to live unhappy and stale life as Father and you have it. I don't want to live with a stick up my butt because I'm so unhappy with the person I married."
The older blonde gasped and turned to her daughter for a second as she crossed an intersection lit in her favour, "I'll have you know that your father and I are very happy together!"
A thought popped into her mind and she blurted it out without thinking of future consequences, "Is that why I saw him with someone else?" She regretted that lie as soon as it slipped from her mouth—it was the biggest lie she had ever told and she could never forgive herself for it. Head lights lit up the interior of the car and Arturia barely had time to cry out as the car was hit from the driver's side and caused them to skid with it.
The buzzing in her thigh was what snapped her out of her memory, she gasped and slid her hand into her pocket and answered the phone after glancing at her father for a slight second, "Hello?" She wiped a tear from her eye as she tried to forget the incident.
"Hey Artie, how was fencing? Did everything go smoothly?" Jeanne asked through the telephone line, interest present in her voice.
Arturia took a deep breath to calm herself and gave a nod, although her best friend could not see her, "It went well, I saw Bedivere again."
"Bedie? That's great! How was he doing?"
"He beat me really bad, I'm ashamed I became so stiff," Arturia tried to chuckle, "It was horrible."
Jeanne giggled a little and then spoke again, "That sounds funny. Are you home yet, babe?"
"Not yet, we're almost there." Arturia noted the supermarket that they drove by which indicated that they were near their house.
"Okay, so I just wanted to tell you that Guinevere called me saying that she had been trying to get a hold of you because apparently this rich guy is having a party tomorrow and she wants you to go. Something about a suitor and your father approved."
Arturia shot her head towards her father and furrowed her brows, "Uh, alright, I'll see." She spoke and then mumbled a goodbye before hanging up, after they had exited the car and strolled into their house Arturia thought to bring it up, "Uh, dad, is it true that—"
"Oh, yes, Guinevere said that there was an Irish suitor for you." Talk of suitors had ended with the accident and her father was finally starting to think it was time for Arturia to be introduced to a man that would benefit the company, "I think it might be the same one that your mother was hoping to get you to meet. I wanted you to go to the cocktail party and get to meet him and check if you like him."
Arturia blinked at her father, "But, um,"
"If you don't like him, you don't have to marry him. Just try to see if he's good for you." Her father mumbled, "If not, the cocktail party should allow for you to meet other men that could be potential suitors."
Jeanne drove up in her used white Suzuki SUV, that Arturia had gotten her for her birthday, or else she would have had to rent a double-seated bicycle. Arturia entered the car and pulled down her black and gold dress a little more, "You look so cute," Jeanne commented. Her dress was a long-sleeve with a sweetheart neck line and puffy shoulders, it was decorated with golden flowered lace every now and again.
"You know I hate short dresses." Arturia glared at her friend, "What's up with your get-up?" Her friend had a white dress with flowered patterns as well. Puffy at the waist and down—it looked more bustle-like, having the back longer than the front, it was mid-sleeved with a square neck line and a blue ribbon at the waist.
"It's the only fancy dress I have." Jeanne mumbled, "What? Is it ugly?"
"No, you look gorgeous," Arturia smiled, "Like you really are the heiress of a company."
Jeanne laughed, "Aw, thanks. I don't look poor." She smirked and shrugged, "I'm anxious, it's the first cocktail party that I've ever been to; this is exciting! What does one even do in a cocktail party?"
"You just smile and look pretty," Arturia laughed, "That's what I've learned from my father's cocktail parties."
"But there's food, yes?" Jeanne wiggled her eyebrows and winked at her friend.
"Yes, for sure." The rest of the ride was mostly silent and Jeanne parked in the visitor parking and replaced her sneakers—that she had put on for driving—with teal heels that Arturia lent her (since they were the same size).
They both walked towards the large building and entered the rather fancy reception area. Arturia walked up to the receptionist and gave a smile, "Hello, we're here for the cocktail party in suite number five."
The receptionist smiled at them and looked at their formal attire, "Yes, of course. Take the elevator number three." He had seemed sort of confused but the girls thought nothing of it.
"Wow, I've never seen another place as fancy as your house." Jeanne commented with a smile on her lips.
Even the elevator was top-notch—covered in only glass—as they took it to the top floor where they would find the suite. Once the elevator doors opened the two girls could hear the rowdy and non-formal-like music that made the hallway shake with the bass. The two girls looked at one another with skeptical faces as they walked towards the suite.
4… Dance, Dance, we're falling apart… 5…
The music was very clear as they had stopped in front of the suite and Arturia clearly knew this was no 'cocktail party'. Fall Out Boy continued to play through the stereo system as the girls opened the door and landed their eyes on what appeared to be a jungle of people.
"Cocktail parties are not what I expected…" Jeanne mumbled with confusion on her features.
"Uh… This is not a cocktail party… This is a house party." Arturia blinked.
"Oh!" They were snapped out of their trances when a female with dark hair and a red plastic cup in her hand called out to them, "My baby girls looking so fancy!"
"Guin! I thought you said this was a cocktail party!" Arturia took the female by the arm.
Guinevere giggled and shook her head, "Artie-baby, you know cocktail party is code for house party."
"Then what is it called when it's an actual cocktail party?" Arturia glared at her friend.
"Uh, it's when you get a formal invitation, duh!" Guinevere laughed at her friend and Arturia sighed in defeat, she should have seen this coming.
Guinevere wrapped her arms around her friends, the red plastic cup hovering over Jeanne's dress; causing her anxiety, "Now that you're here, let's party!" She guided them towards the center of the loft.
Now, the loft was gorgeous—if Jeanne had to put it into words. There was a twenty-foot-tall glass window that practically ran across the entire opposite side of the door. Man, was it luxurious. The skyline was sublime and there seemed to be a patio past the glass. The kitchen and dinning room were to their left and past the spiral staircase that lead to what seemed was where the bedrooms were.
Jeanne was unable to see the decorations of the penthouse through the sweaty and dancing teenagers of the loft, but she was sure it was gorgeous, "Careful, Guinevere, I have a white dress." Jeanne's anxiety was skyrocketing when she noticed the red cup kept tilting by the minute.
"And you look like a goddess," the girl stuck out her tongue, "You're just gorgeous."
"So you said he was a good suitor or something?" Arturia tilted her head towards her friend.
"Ah, yes," Guinevere nodded, "'parently he's rich as eff and he's got it all in the looks department. He's simply handsome! I just haven't actually seen him; I've only heard of him."
"How about we look around, Jeanne?" Arturia asked as she bit her lower lip, "Maybe we can see if he's worth the shot."
Jeanne chuckled nervously, noting that the song changed into a Green Day one, "I don't snoop, Artie, what if we get caught?"
"It's not snooping; we're just being detectives." The Englishwoman smirked, "Yes?"
The taller of the two blondes sighed and shrugged, "If you insist." She spoke.
"Okay," Arturia grinned, "I'll go up to the bedrooms and you look around here, enjoy the party too."
Guinevere shook her head, "And what do I do?" She smiled.
"Enjoy the party." Arturia answered her brunette friend.
Jeanne watched as Arturia left them and Guinevere held a bright smile on her lips. Jeanne waved Guin goodbye and excused herself. The loft was burning hot since there were so many people packed in it. She squeezed through a bunch of people and was able to make it to the patio, away from the loud sounds to get some fresh air. Upon reaching the patio, Jeanne took a deep breath and nearly gasped at the beautiful skyline.
She walked towards the ledge and looked down, the place had the perfect view of the city and it was simply beautiful. There was a bright smile on her red lips as she looked at the beauty before her.
Meanwhile, Arturia had made it to the second floor of the loft and tried to open every door she came across. Most of the people were dancing and drinking so no one paid attention to her snooping about. Many of the doors were locked and what wasn't were the two bathrooms and a towel closet. There was a final door at the end of the hallway and she tried to open it a couple of times until a voice had made her jump.
"Um, what are you doing?" Her head whipped towards the sound and she saw a tall boy with a rather weird hair cut. Blue spiked up hair at the front and what seemed like a ponytail over his shoulder. There were silver earrings on each of his ears and one of them had a cuff.
"Uh…" She blinked trying to come with an excuse and trying not to be intimidated with the red eyes that stared her down, "I was—uh, looking for the bathroom."
The man gave her an odd look, "Then you wouldn't be trying to open it so roughly."
"I just really need to go." Arturia felt her cheeks get hot and she was already very embarrassed.
"Right. Well it's the second door down the hall." She noted the familiarity in his features but kept silent as she hurried off to the bathroom.
Cú Chulainn let his eyes follow her until she entered the bathroom and he murmured lowly to himself, "What an odd girl." He had noticed that she had come a little too fancy for a house party but shrugged it off, turning about and leaning on the glass railing as he looked down at the living room and then caught an eye of a long braid in the patio, "Jeanne?" A smile grew on his lips and he raced down the stairs, but he was stopped by the crowd of people that stood in the living room.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Cú Chulainn growled at a blond kid that was on top of the coffee table, "That's Norwegian wood, get the fuck down."
"Chill out, this is a party," the red-eyed blond chuckled.
"That costs a shit-ton of money, get down." The blue-haired man argued.
The other male got down from the coffee table and glared at him, "Ugh," he grunted and then spoke, "this isn't even your place."
"Exactly. So don't fucking break anything—especially not the table." Cú Chulainn continued, eyes in slits.
Jeanne had had enough of couples making out in the patio, so she entered the loud loft again and paid no heed to the commotion that seemed to come from near the fireplace. Instead, she walked to the kitchen where she hoped to find something to drink that was not alcoholic.
Once she had soundly arrived at the kitchen, she looked about the granite counter and saw the set of knives atop it, "That's very dangerous." She commented as she walked to them and took the set in her hands, "These are so fancy…" She got distracted by the glass holder and the nice handles that the knives had. After marvelling at their beauty, she looked about the kitchen for a safe place to store them and she deemed that no one would go looking in the cabinets under the sink. She crouched down to place them inside.
Cú Chulainn had finished his argument with the red-eyed snobby blond kid who seemed to be covering a black eye with make-up and then hurried to the patio where he hoped Jeanne had remained. He glanced at the kitchen and saw no one and then proceeded to the patio.
Jeanne had found a bunch of valuables under the sink. She had already snuggly placed the knife-set inside and seen a bunch of vases and picture frames. One of them caught her eyes and she pulled it out from the cabinet. She looked down at a picture of three children with an older adult, it was such a cute picture. She recalled that Arturia had asked to 'investigate' so she pulled out her out dated smart phone and took the best picture that she could possibly take.
Jeanne closed the cabinets after putting her phone away and sending a text to Arturia saying that they should head off. She slipped out of the kitchen and looked up at the second floor as she got drafted into the clump of people in the living room.
After not finding Jeanne in the patio, Cú Chulainn hurried to the kitchen where he thought was the only place she could be. He avoided the crowd of loud and tipsy teenagers and snaked into the kitchen without further complications.
Arturia exited the washroom after people had knocked and knocked and then she glanced down at the dancefloor to see Jeanne waving at her and signalling to check her cellphone. Arturia did just that and saw the message but she gave the other female an odd look for she still had not found a single thing.
"Jeanne?" Jeanne jumped at the call of her name that came next to her ear. She turned about in a rapid motion and her violet eyes locked with red orbs, "What are you doing here? And why are you dressed as if you're going to a cocktail party?" The tall boy asked her, his brows furrowed together.
"You scared me!" She held a hand to her chest and the red eyes of the boy before her dropped down to her chest as well.
"Though, I've got to admit that the dress—although too fancy for this type of party—looks great on you." The boy complimented.
Jeanne gave him a warning look and shook her head, "Well, I've got to go now." She turned about to leave but he caught a hold of her arm.
"Is Arturia with you?" He asked, tilting his head and trying to study her facial features.
"Gilgamesh," Jeanne blinked, "I really have to go."
A person bumped into them and it seemed like he could not take the contents of his drink and was so close to puking all over Jeanne's beautiful white dress when Gilgamesh had enough time to intervene and pull her towards himself. Her face was buried into his chest as the sound of hurling danced with the music.
Gilgamesh gave a nod after she had pulled away from him, careful not to land a teal heel in the vomit that was all over the beautiful red carpet, and then smiled at her, "Next time, be careful, that dress is white."
Jeanne felt relief wash over her, "Geez, thanks, Gil. I would have puked too." She covered her mouth as she did not like the sound of someone puking or the smell of it. As she looked up at the blond male, she reached her hand and smoothed out the foundation over his eye so that it did not look artificial, "Well, bye." She waved and quickly ran to the spiral staircase where Arturia was waiting.
Gilgamesh stood a little stunned at her actions and his cheeks suddenly felt warm.
"Don't you fucking tell me! Oh, bloody hell!" Cú Chulainn screamed after he had snaked his way into the crowd of teenagers that had formed a circle around the incident, "I am so dead."
Gilgamesh stood next to the boy that had hurled into the carpet with his arms over his chest.
Cú Chulainn lifted his head from the incident and saw the blonde female he had been going after leaving through the door, "This is just fucking perfect."
Diarmuid was seated at the breakfast table when his phone rang. He answered the call as he continued to play with the left hand of the long-haired female in front of him, "Hello?"
"Mister Ua Duibhne?" A voice came from the other line.
"Yes, you are speaking with him."
"There were several complaints from neighbours yesterday evening about loud music and an over crowded suite. This is simply a warning, there should be no more loud music after twelve in the morning and no more than twenty guests at a time in the suite. If you want to arrange a party, there are party rooms in the building that are designed for this."
"What? My suite? Are you certain?" Diarmuid squeezed the woman's hand causing her to squeak.
"Yes sir, it came from Suite number five."
"Hey!" She mumbled.