14. Warnings and fishing

Song: Honey- Johnny Balik

Anthony

She had determination I'd give you that.

But more than determination, she had capabilities. She had the ability to stay true to her word and escape her mother. I admired her for that.

Since when do you admire her? I thought you hated her?

I mentally rolled my eyes; shut up, Satan. One can admire an enemy.

Can they?

Just shut up.

Yes sir.

"I must ask you, dear Amelia. What sort of work would compel a lady such as yourself to wake up before the rest of your fellow courtiers." My mother's eyes sparkled as she sipped her wine.

"It's not work really. Though the additional time is quite pleasant. When I was studying at the house of lotuses, curfew was half-past nine and one was expected to be awake by half-past five. My body's just become accustomed to waking at such times." She explained indifferently, not looking away from the window.

"Is that right? Tell me, love. How is the house nowadays? I'm sure things have changed much in the years I haven't been."

She blinked and slowly turned her head to my mother. "You never attended the house. How would you...." she tilted her head at her.

My mother smiled, "Is that what they told you? Sweetheart, I was on the honour roll when I graduated."

The princess lifted her head and parted her lips in understanding. She turned to her mother. Her mother simply smiled.

She sighed, "forgive me then, Aunt. It appears I've been misinformed."

"Oh no worries, dear. You can earn my forgiveness by producing a lovely heir for my son as soon as you all are married."

Oh my God.

She begins once more.

"I'll be sure to attempt to please your request." She smiled at her but the moment my mother looked away she half-gagged.

I never understood why my mother was so adamant about my having a healthy legitimate heir. Perhaps it was because of the struggle she had to go through with me. Earning the approval of the court and such after adopting a peasant child.

Perhaps.

I had never been sure.

But I knew no way in hell was I having children with her. Bastards it is.

The room was disturbingly warm. Even for summer weather. It felt like I was inside a volcano. On my forehead, beads of sweat began to form as the air became too hard to breathe in. My face was burning from the heat. I was inside an oven. I attempted to heave a breath, my chest contracted. I could feel my face becoming glossy with sweat.

Though the princess didn't seem to mind at all, I could already see my mother beginning to hyperventilate. I was sweating profusely, to my side the candles had begun slowly melting.

I heaved a breath and subtly wiped my brow as the table began radiating waves.

Beside me, the princess cleared her throat.

"Yes, daughter."

"Mother, it appears you're anger is aggravating our guests. Perhaps, it would be better suited if you set the table on fire?"

"Do you think that's a good idea, love?"

She sighed through her nose, a trickle of sweat slowly descending her face. From the side of her hairline, past her high cheekbones, caressing her jaw before dropping down her neck and into her cleavage.

.....Why was I looking at that in the first place?

Now I knew for sure that I was hyperventilating.

"Most certainly." She chimes in sweetly. I had to admire her. Even in all this heat she still managed to sound like a lady. A nice lady too. If I didn't hate her so much, I might even have wanted her to fuck me.

But alas, she was my enemy. And one does not fuck one's enemy.

Such.

Disappointment.

I hadn't even noticed that I'd fallen onto the floor until that exact moment. My throat was parched and I could barely see. My head felt like a seven-ton brick and a feather at the same time. Every breath was painful and the heat was unbearable.

In my haze, I felt a gentle hand press against my chest. "Hold on to me." The voice said, gently but urgently.

I forced the last of my strength into the task. My mind was a blur of nothingness and I scrambled to find the hand. When I did, I squeezed with all my might. Cold fingers looped around my sweaty palms and I felt a handkerchief being patted against my forehead.

Pat, pat, pat. Pat.

"Mother." The voice said coldly. So unlike everything else in the room. "Stop this. He'll die."

I rasped to say something. What, I had no idea. The only thing tethering me to reality in that moment was the ice-cold hand that I held. I focused on it. The coldness of it compared to everything else.

"It's what he deserves, isn't it? What they both deserve."

"Mother!"

"They come here. On the pretense of helping us. When their main pawn won't even cooperate."

"He is not a pawn."

"Isn't he? From what I can tell he clearly has no intellect to be a player."

A sigh. A long, tired sigh.

I was suddenly overwhelmed with cold, frosty air. From where I didn't know. But in a matter of seconds, I relocated my clarity and sat up. My mother seemed to have recovered as well. I went to her. We were both gasping for air as she wiped my brow.

The Queen stood up. "Let this be a warning. You have come to my court by the hand of peace. If any of you. Ever. Embarrass my family in such away. Ever. Again. I will have your heads. War or no war."

The Queen left. Leaving us dazed. The princess still sat there. On the ground. Covered in droplets of frost. She made no move to get up.

****

The ride to the stream we were supposed to go fishing in, was.

Purely.

Utterly.

Immaculately.

Beautifully.

Silent.

I loved it.

No, you didn't.

Shut up.

No. I shut up earlier today. My 'shut up' time is over for the day.

Please go die.

I wish I could. I can't. If you find a way, dear friend. Please. Tell me.

You will be the first to know.

I'm sure I will.

Through the carriage window, I witnessed the most amazing thing ever. The epitome of life. So lovely. It could bring back the dead. So lovely. So luscious.

No, for those wondering, there wasn't a gorgeous woman floating outside the carriage.

It was trees.

Many. Many. Trees.

Inside the carriage though, was a scene worthy of a soap opera. With me were:

-The princess's ladies-in-waiting that, could not stop whispering about how much they adored me as a future husband for their best-friend. Throwing bashful eyes filled with hate at me every two minutes.

-The prince. Who sat there. Very sorrowful that his big sister could not join us for our fun fishing trip. He did not waste at throwing affectionate glares at me also. Most of them consisted of please-go-die-in-a-hole-you-bastard-I-hate-you and I-wish-for-you-to-get-run-over-by-a-horse stares. So affectionate.

-Beside him. We had a man. No. A tree. NO. A giant. He had to bend his neck to be inside the carriage. He seemed to be a nice man. That was properly infatuated in the elder Rhysalia. When he wasn't throwing doe-eyes at her, he was throwing turd-eyes at me.

-Thomas.

And.

- A newspaper. With legs. I think he's human. I honestly have no idea. I have yet to see his upper body parts so I might as well have assumed him a newspaper. With legs.

It was safe for me to assume that no one in that carriage wanted me there. Though when I tried to jump out of the thing a few minutes back Thomas had pleaded with me to stay. I had no idea why. Something about my reputation?

Did I even have one?

Not in the slightest.

Exactly. In conclusion, I had no valid reason to be here. But after my attempted escape I had been shoved between Thomas and Newspaper. In the middle of the carriage and all the windows and escape routes had been locked.

Fuck me.

I was trapped.

Well, at least you have two beautiful ladies to woe with you.

I snorted. Do you actually think I'd cheat on her with them? They're literally more loyal to her than any man alive. I bet you they'd choose her over their husbands with no hesitation.

You don't know that.

Sorry, I choose to live.

Mm. You're life. If you want it so bland.

I'm not dying like that.

But you'll have lovers.

She won't mind as much if they aren't her friends.

So you do have morals.

More than you.

Obviously.

"Hey." Thomas poked my shoulder, leaning closer to me to the point where the only thing I saw were his green eyes.

"First of all, your breath stinks. Second of all, what are you doing? Third of all, what do you want?"

He gasped, "my breath stinks? Oh no! Do you have any mints?"

I rolled my eyes. "What do you want?"

"Help."

"With?"

He gestured, very unsubtly, to the younger Rhysalia, who by some miracle didn't pick up on the fact that my friend just very rudely pointed to her.

Or maybe they were such a match made in heaven that they even equalled in obliviousness.

I closed my eyes. "What about her?"

"Help me woe her!"

I choked on my own spit. "What?"

"Help me-"

"I heard you the first time!"

"Then what's the problem!"

"Why me!"

"You're good with women!"

I stifled a laugh. He thought I. Was good with women. Lord help him and his innocent soul. "Just. Because I've been sleeping with women since I was fifteen. Does not mean. I'm 'good' with them."

"But-"

"Thomas, how long was my last relationship?"

He blinked. "What?"

"How long was my last courtship?"

He blinked again. "But. You haven't courted a woman in four years."

I gave him a look as the realization that his best friend was a man-whore dawned on him. ".....Oh."

"Oh." I nodded sagely as he sat back on the bench, having seemingly lost hope.

He pouted, his already large eyes looking even larger in his sadness. I had to admit. He looked like a decrepit puppy. "What am I supposed to do now?" He whimpered.

I sighed and looked to the prince. "Oi."

He flinched, having been awoken from his sorrows, he turned and glared at me. "What?"

I pointed. "So my friend over here wants to ask one of your sister's ladies to dinner."

Sister elder: *audible gasp*

Sister younger: *falls off the bench, transforming into a tomato in the process*

Isaiah: Oh? Who?

me: *points to sister younger*

sister younger: *crawls into a ball of I'm-also-attracted-to-him-but-I'm-currently-too-busy-being-flustered-to-say-anything*

Isaiah: Oh. Well. You have my blessing.

Thomas, who has been anticipating his impending death: What?

Isaiah: I mean. You seem like a good man. And Cora clearly likes you-

'Cora', who has evolved from tomato to cherry: I most certainly do not!

*Silence in which everyone stares at her intently, knowing she's lying but saying nothing about it.*

Isaiah: .....Right. But. *raises hand* I say aye to this proposition.

Thomas has never seen such willingness before. *Blinks in digesting information.*

Me: Well with that settled. I shall now proceed to throw myself out of this carriage.

Everyone: *throws themselves onto me*

Me, who cannot breathe: Why?

Isaiah sighs exasperatedly, "Because. No matter how much you hate us. You'll be family soon. And my sister taught me family is strength. I want to live up to that. I want a family."

I blink. "That's...."

"Good of me? I know-"

"Incredibly sad."

He blinks, clearly trying to keep his anger at bay. "What?"

"You're basically telling the entire world that you're lonely and want friends."

Above me is a large exhalation and inhalation of breath. Followed by a large scramble and suddenly I'm free of weight. I sit back and watch Isaiah kick and scream under his peers.

"I'M GONNA KILL HIM."

"Isaiah." The newspaper falls and under is, surprisingly, a human. He had brown skin and eyes and judging from his voice, a son of a Crestian dignitary. I wonder how he knew the prince though.

"What. Khalil?"

"Remember how you promised your sister not to kill him?"

"I DON'T CARE."

"She'll kill you." He looks down at his paper absentmindedly. Not paying attention to his friends' efforts to restrain the prince.

The carriage stops. And as the coachman comes to open the door I watch as all the nobles besides Thomas, Khalil and I topple down the door and onto the soil.

"Forgive them." Khalil smiles at me. "Though, I can't say they're not usually this insane." He shrugs. "You'll get accustomed soon enough."

Oh? He seems nice? Interesting.

The sun falls on me and I shade my eyes to reduce the glare. Beside us, a river rushes past and I notice how beautiful the creak is.

This afternoon might be somewhat nice.

"Prince. I hope we can get along well later." Khalil smiles again and makes his way to his friends.

I wonder if I can trust him.

*****

Khalil: Vote to become a newspaper.