XXXI. BE OUR BLOODY GUEST
The ballroom was as grand in scale and decor as the rest of Marquez palace. A circular room set beneath a domed roof of glass room atop the center hill of the palace, ringed in seven spires to represent the seven major districts. The ceiling was stained glass and intricate tracery depicting stars and ivy. As with all rooms in the palace, the art depicted the Elysium fields and the frolicking Eloi in various peachy and powdery shades of the rainbow. The floor was tile inlaid with sleek lines and whiplashes of gold and silver like giant stylized blades of grass. Half of the ballroom overlooked the courtyard and palace gardens below, three-story floor to ceiling windows led to the balcony, and the stellar views of the city, lake, and mountains beyond.
Palace mages, recent hires from Alice’s group of fellow students, kept the room heated with dozens of hidden wind and fire glyphs. Floating chandeliers of crystal and rune stones gave light, as did several dozen spheres that imitated the sun, moon or stars as they orbited above the ballroom.
The guests spoke and laughed in small circles as trays of liquor and appetizers were paraded around. Each tray was laden with the so-called ‘acquired tastes’ of high society, little to nothing fitting for the common man or a soldier’s palate. The scent of far too much perfume and cologne along with flowery scented candles filled the air as more and more arrived, shedding their heavy cloaks and furs. Outside the gentle flurry had turned into a blizzard, a foot of snow had been dumped in just under two hours. The orchestra played softly inside, a sweet tune of youth and winter wonderment.
Donough and his date arrived and quickly stole the show with how much flesh she bared in the traditional Colby-Nau garb of canvas trousers and animal print bikini top. She mimicked their penchant for piercings with a mélange of mismatched gold and silver jewelry, as well as some context-less tribal art painted onto her far too pale skin. If Donough could blush, he certainly would have been. It was almost painfully obvious she had no idea of the significance of the art, and the glares some of the Rhodean’s shot her way made Aichlan uncomfortable by proxy.
Being so far north, the winters of Duvachellé often lasted until the beginning of Mistmoon or early Flowersun in some cases. The people of Duvachellé fought this dreary season with festivals and holidays for both commoner and noble alike, though not necessarily equal in terms of opulence. Their nation was one blessed with fertile fields during their short growing seasons, and a near overflowing treasury. though with their usual trading routes and partners disrupted by war and rampaging monsters, Aichlan wondered how such a feast could be justified.
By the time Aichlan and his company arrived, they were stumbling and slurring their words.Fiora and Aichlan had taken to singing tavern songs through the halls at a whim. The palace had a liquor cabinet stocked with cognac and fine wines in nearly every room, a secret Maleah had taken advantage of and shared with the others. Eth and Donough became irritated by their ‘tops’, even if the top only amounted to sleeves and a collar, and shed them on their way to the banquet, arriving shirtless. Of the group, only Ashe was sober; even Clarissa and Alice had partaken of the poison. Maleah seemed to have fallen into a stupor, spilling more on her blouse than in her mouth, and Séverin tried his best to proper her up as he led her from one chair to the next in pursuit of Clarissa the social butterfly.
Alice came dressed in the gown and pelt cloak Clarissa had bought for her in Eefrit; she had come from a meeting with Francis, and stood teetering as if on a ship deck with a silly grin upon her face. If the pirate had gotten her drunk for some nefarious means, Aichlan would certainly have to deal with the man personally. Taryn arrived with Madden and Odell well after the liquor raid and thus they were not as far gone as their comrades. Odell looked around in awe, dressed as a young noble in clothing a size too large for him.
“Bloody brilliant eh Madden?” Odell nudged the large man in the rib as he gawked.
Madden grunted in response as he took a flask from Taryn.
“Is Rassvette coming as well, Lady Cardinal?”
Clarissa downed a flute of champagne with a giggle as she handed a butler her cloak. “What was dzat dear? Oh, yes zee monk. He should be arriving with Lucien. Ooh! Lady Godiva! Par le é clairer!” Clarissa waved her hand over her head frantically. "Vous êtes superbe ma chère!” she hiked up her gown and ran as fast as she could in her stiletto heels across the room to a woman as excited as she was.
“Oh, well then where the devil is Aislyn?”
“Keep it in yer pants laddie, she’ll be here and you two kids can dance and hold hands by the fondue fountain.” Taryn pinched Odell’s cheek and made kissing noises.
“Get off it ya old bag!” he retorted and smacked her hands away from his face.
Aislyn snuck up behind Odell, leapt on his back, and planted a kiss on his cheek. Taryn stifled her response to his accusation of her being old, angrily unscrewing the top of the flask and took a swig. Odell blushed as all else was forgotten or deemed irrelevant in Aislyn’s embrace. Madden sneered and grumbled under his breath as he took the flask from Taryn.
“How do you always sneak upon a bloke like that? Bloody witch…” Taryn slapped Madden on the arm, snatching back the flask and hiding it in her garter belt.
“Where have you been lass? Been lookin’ all o’er for you.”
The music suddenly stopped and all conversations ceased or turned to hushed whispers as the lights dimmed to twinkling stars and moonlight simulated by the orbs. The sea of people parted as heralds rushed to the center, spotlights of moon beams encircled them from above. Aislyn dismounted Odell, smoothed her gown, and adjusted her hair.
“What the hell is this about?”
Aislyn offered Odell her hand, which he gladly took. “The guest of honor, is about to arrive.”
“Guest of honor? Who would that be?” Odell whispered excitedly.
“The Princess.”
“Princess?” Taryn and Madden echoed in surprise.
The blow of a dozen trumpets in unison caused Odell to startle, as a man in opulent dress and a striped hat that looked like a pumpkin made his way to the center of the room. He cleared his throat as a spotlight shone upon him. Odell did his best to tighten his loose sleeves, settling on rolling up the cuffs to his forearm and hiking up his baggy trousers.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I proudly present to thee our shining gem and treasured heir to the Dorso fortune and title. Presumed lost and now miraculously returned; her Royal Highness Princess Aislyn L’Arachel Dorso!”
“Wait, isn’t that…”
The spotlight fell on Aislyn and Odell as the ballroom erupted into applause. Mages shot up fireworks to rain sparks and glittering ice crystals as Aislyn led the mortified Odell down the aisle. Aichlan spit out his liquor as he burst into laughter. Maleah muttered in Xanavien, and took another drink that only dribbled back out of her mouth.
“What the hell? You tellin’ me that wench is a princess?” Taryn smacked her forehead and sighed. “Maleah, you drunken whore, gimme some o’ yer booze.”
Maleah looked over at Taryn, her eyes glazed and an empty expression on her face. She belched loudly in response before taking another swig from her gallon-sized bottle. Taryn tried to take the jug from her, but despite her vacant expression, her grip was quite firm. After struggling for several moments, Taryn finally gave up and took Madden in search of champagne.
“You’re fucking drunk Maleah.” Séverin slurred in their native tongue. “Give bottle. You had enough.”
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“Mfjkbnfalii jafndab.” liquor dribbled from her mouth and spilled on her dress as she attempted to drink more. “Basturd.”
“…What?” Séverin asked confused whether he should be alarmed or in a fit of laughter.
“Oi, where’s the bloody food at?” Eth scratched his wild mane as he peered into his empty bottle. “I done drank oon a empty sto-muck an need somethin’ meaty.” Donough nodded as he scanned the crowd for a server. “I wanna try some o’ them pastries.”
Eth glared at Donough as if he were about to rebuke the man for his comment.
“Aye. That would be lovely.” He conceded and rubbed his bare abdomen.
“I know just the place to get some cakes Mister Stone-wood.” Aimee said as she traced his abdominal muscles with her finger.
Donough flinched with a halted giggle and shied away from her touch. “Where would that be then?”
She smiled and whispered something into his ear. A stupid grin crossed his face, and Ashe turned away in disgust from the whole spectacle.
“Yer all idiots, ye realize this daen’t ye?” Ashe crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head, exasperated and embarrassed by the antics of her companions.
The lights returned to normal as Aislyn finished her parade down the aisle. The orchestra started up again as did the conversations regarding the young man she had with her. No doubt, this would be the most gossiped about evening for months to come.
“…I always, I always get hory when I drik too much. I fink I should lie down…” Fiora said as she leaned against Maleah, giggling and tittering as if the floor were undulating beneath her feet.
Maleah continued to stand with a blank expression on her face.
“Maleah, are,” Fiora drunkenly prodded Maleah’s cheek with her finger, “is she dead?”
“Niet, she tries not to womit. My sister holds liquor well, she may die.” Séverin’s accent had thickened considerably with his inebriation.
“Is she, is she dead?” Fiora repeated either not comprehending Séverin’s answer or forgetting she had already asked the question.
Aichlan stifled his giggles before erupting into a fit of laughter. Ashe had long since abandoned them; Taryn and Madden had left to socialize with the Princess and her entourage. Some nobles had even swept off Alice to discuss ‘her army’, leaving him with the lushes.
Aichlan knew he should be doing damage control, however he completely ruined that option earlier with his actions and subsequent duels. The duels, he was informed, were postponed indefinitely at the Princess’ request.
“She slowly poisons self. She doesn’t know when to stop.” Séverin took the bottle from his sister as she raised it to her lips again. “All she has eaten today is apple; she needs meat or bread to better absorb liquor.”
“…Your sister’s a sexy piece o’ arse. Séverin, did you hear me? Fiora prodded at Séverin, who did his best to ignore her. “Séverin?”
* * *
It was nearly midnight before dinner was served, and the guests made their way from the brightly lit ballroom to the dim candlelight and fireplace of the great hall. The table was carved from a single Alfheim tree, measuring fifty feet long and fifteen feet across. It was a private meal reserved for the princess and her personal guests, the rest of the socialites dinned in four of the palaces remaining six dining halls. Ashe had carried Aichlan and Eth to the table with the help of Enyo and Órfhlaith, the effects of the liquor having run their course, they still had a severe lack of motor skills compounded now by extreme fatigue. It took all of their will and prods from their peers to keep them from blacking out in the soup.
Maleah had not spoken or changed her expression since the night began; Séverin had slung her over his shoulder and placed her in a seat next to his own. Only her blinking eyes betrayed her as still being alive and possibly awake. Odell sat next to Aislyn at the head of the table, the king’s place was oddly empty. It seems Odell did not feel as betrayed as Princess Aislyn had feared, and had quickly adjusted to being the center of attention.
Given the massive size of the table, whisper weed plants were placed before every other seat, creating a network that allowed everyone to speak to everyone without raising their voice, and easily muted if privacy was desired. The dull roar of conversation poured from Aichlan’s own plant, which he stared at in contempt. Elysian can be a very beautiful language when spoken alone, but it becomes insufferable when spoken by a throng of nasally self-righteous nobles.
“General Aichlan, tell us of your travels.”
Aichlan forced his eyes up towards Aislyn, though with great difficulty, as her image seemed to duplicate and move on its own accord. The tone in her voice bellied her intentions however. She wanted something.
“Travels? You were with us; the hell are ya askin' me fer?” Fortunately, for Aichlan, Ashe had the foresight to disable the whisper weeds for both Eth and himself.
“General Aichlan?” Aislyn persisted sweetly as a murmur of amusement rippled across the table. “I’m afraid we can’t hear you.”
“Why the hell’s she still callin’ me General for?”
“Aichlan, perhaps we should retire.” Ashe massaged Aichlan’s arm, wishing to coax him away from further embarrassment.
“The food hasn’t come yet. Maleah only ate apples.” Aichlan snapped, pointing at one of the images of Maleah that gently swayed before him. “Girl needs some food ‘fore she passes out o’er there.”
“Aichlan, honey, you’re about tae pass oot.” Ashe sighed, trying to force Aichlan to partake of the coffee brought out to them. “Órfhlaith, handle this please.”
Órfhlaith traced the edge of her glass with her finger as a young noble moved in to nibble her ear. She giggled and pushed him away in mock rebuke.
“I am afraid the General is pissed off his arse your highness, if he were to regale us with tales of his travels they’d be in a nigh incomprehensible ol’ fey tongue or Elysian curses. As for my compatriots, none have bothered to learn the language and the happy siblings over there are presumed in a coma.”
Ashe sighed and buried her head in her hands, embarrassed for all of their sake. Their debut into the courtly life was an utter failure.
“Other than that, I would like to thank your majesty for a lovely, soiree.” The nobles laughed and giggled, though whether at or with Órfhlaith was another matter.
Aislyn beamed in return, though it was obvious the act was forced. She knew as well as everyone else present that battle loomed over the horizon. With Laelianus’ edict, Aichlan’s army could do nothing but stand by and watch. It was obvious even to Aichlan’s drunken senses Aislyn wished to discuss some sort of loophole or way around this predicament, but her power was limited.
The truth of the matter was Aichlan hoped that Laelianus failed, for his arrogance to finally be put in check. Though he was loath to allow more innocents to suffer and more people’s homes to be lost, if the man were to continue unchecked he could ruin far more.
“How was your recent trip to Vergas Councilwoman?” Aislyn asked conversationally.
“Well enough, though those trips aren’t made public.” Órfhlaith said cattily.
Aislyn smiled. “There are no secrets in court Councilwoman.”
“When the hell did she go to Vergas?” Aichlan slurred, though no one heard him.
Órfhlaith smiled. “I’ll remember that. My people are well, I merely had to remind the people there that technically, they were on our land.”
“I can certainly relate.” Aislyn murmured. “If there are any more troubles with the local government, don’t hesitate to bring it to my attention. After all the Colby-Nau have done for me and the people of Duvachellé, it would be the least we could do.”
Aichlan prodded at his bowl of soup, uninterested in the prospect of eating, his drunken haze nearly gone leaving irritability and nausea. It was well after midnight and this party had gone on far too long. Aichlan stood, excusing himself from the table. He had enough of the feigned sincerity and posturing. He needed some more time alone and a walk in the freezing night air was oddly welcoming at the moment.
“Where are you going Aichlan? The meal is just arriving.”
“I am choosing to retire Clarissa, be sure to have someone of The Order tend to Captain Miroshnik, I fear she may have gone and poisoned herself.” He turned to Aislyn and bowed awkwardly. “Goodnight your highness.”
“Goodnight General, I wish you would be willing to stay with us a while longer, but if you must, I bid you adieu and pleasant dreams.”
Aichlan waved half-heartedly as he left the table. Ashe removed the napkin from her lap and stood to help him along, but Aichlan gently stopped her, and guided her back into her seat. Ashe looked up, concern etched upon her face as Aichlan did his best to smile back at her. Maleah hiccupped, the only sound she had made in the past couple of hours. Ashe stifled a giggle as Aichlan caressed her cheek and swept a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Stay, enjoy your meal, you eat for two now.”
Ashe turned her cheek and allowed him to kiss her. “An’ yet ah must be sure the father dis nae do something rash in his curren’ state.”
“Ashe, I will be fine, I just need a stroll through the gardens before going to bed.”
Ashe shook her head and clucked her tongue as returned the napkin to her lap. “Shall I send fer Clarissa in the mornin’?”
Aichlan smiled as he caressed Ashe’s shoulder. “I think Clarissa will be in need of a Clarissa come morning.”
Aichlan buttoned and strapped his coat, giving Ashe a peck on the forehead before making his exit.