The estate was immaculate, as always. I prepared myself, straightening my tie and smoothing over my hair as I stood in front of the door. The Montgomery mansion was really only used for special occasions anymore, as my father effectively lived in his penthouse office, and my stepmother Cerise worked just as hard. It’d been months and months since I’d even been here.
I cracked the door open, staring down at my feet as they lifted themselves over the threshold. I had just barely made it onto the cool marble of the family mansion’s perfect entryway when shouts erupted, startling me.
“Surprise!”
A cacophony of merry cheers and whistles caused me to look up like a deer caught in headlights, stopping me in my tracks. The headlights in question was a thick crowd of people, some whose faces stood out to me straight away, like my father and stepmother, while others were merely bland, generic acquaintances, those who were relevant enough to be on the guest list, but not anyone I knew well. Such was typical of parties like these; an occasion like this was just an excuse for the elites to schmooze, dipping down into the political barrel and extracting those they wished to use. A part of me dipped down in sadness; there was no way I was escaping this party anytime soon. Hopefully it wouldn’t stop me from seeing Mea.
My stepmother, Cerise, rushed over to me from the front of the crowd. She gave a warm hug, her smile and happiness so infectious I couldn’t stop the grin on my own face. She truly was a kind woman, someone whose presence I didn’t mind in the slightest. In the midst of the brief, tight squeeze, she whispered in my ear.
“Don’t forget to speak to your father,” she said, the words rushed and excited. “He has a surprise for you.”
I nodded as she released me from the hug.
“Well, were you surprised?”
A half smile on my face, I nodded again. “This for my graduation?”
“It’s not every day a young man receives a graduate degree from Aruga State University,” she said, hands on her hips, mocking me. “Now go greet your guests, there’s so many people here to see you.” She gestured towards the crowd, which had broken up and settled into random places further into the house. I caught a whiff of what could be sweets coming from the kitchen, and heard a light tune lazily wander its way through the hallways perhaps from the salon.
I went off in search of a drink to fill my hands. While I was used to this sort of socializing, it never ceased to make me somewhat nervous. I’ve practiced perfect and polite responses, questions to ask, precisely for this kind of day, but no matter how much memorization, I always needed a bit of a crutch. I spied a waiter carrying a tray filled with flutes of sparkling liquid. Today, the crutch would be champagne. The waiter saw my attention and made his way towards me. I plucked a flute from the tray, gripping the stem tightly.
I followed the party-goers towards the salon, where a violinist played that simple tune I’d heard earlier, accompanied by a pianist who occupied our family grand piano. A few people gathered here, mostly a few other cabinet members who I knew in name only. I nodded at them politely and continued on.
Passing the kitchen, I peeked inside to see our family cook busy inside with several assistants, serving little hors d’oeuvres and appetizers, while a larger dinner course was being prepared. I wondered if everyone would stay for dinner. I inhaled a heavenly scent of basil and rosemary coated something, the herbs delightful to the nose. But no guests were here, although I wouldn’t mind stopping to say hello to our chef. She had always made the best cinnamon rolls for me as a child, which were my favorite. But she was clearly busy at the moment; I’d have to wait until the rush had passed.
I moseyed down the hallway, following the dull roar of chatter and mingling of the party guests. Most had settled in the patio area, a lush, classic partially outdoor room that boasted extravagant décor and a fantastic view of the gardens. I flicked my eyes over the crowd gathered there at tables and standing around the empty space. Now that they weren’t so thickly squeezed together, I could make out individual faces. Joh, Lip, and Malley stood near the temporary bar, manned by another waiter in similar uniform, dutifully refilling the three’s rapidly emptying glasses.
They noticed that I’d noticed them and waved me over. Internally, I groaned, really not wanting to be at this party any longer than I strictly needed to be, and also because the last time we’d hung out, we’d parted on strange terms. But, nevertheless, I pasted on a perfect polite host smile and walked over to greet them.
“Thanks for coming,” I said as I got close enough. “I believe I should be congratulating you as well, though.” The three had graduated with me.
“Heh, thanks,” said Malley, taking the congratulations for the three of them. “But this is your party – drink up!” He handed me another flute of champagne. I hadn’t even sipped from my first one, and now I had a drink in each hand. Malley didn’t seem to notice.
“Oh – we didn’t let on about your party, did we?” Joh asked, elbowing Lip. “You shouldn’t have asked him about his plans, twit.”
I scrunched my brows, confused for a moment. Then I remembered that they had indeed asked me about my Saturday plans when we’d graduated and left school.
“No, you didn’t ruin the surprise,” I reassured them. “Anyway, it’s good to see you again,” I said, lifting the champagne flute in the air as a mock toast. I turned away, eager to get this over with and try to find Mea.
The three of them nodded eagerly, always the yes men, trying to ride the coattails of my societal status. They’d only ever tried to schmooze me; I knew they weren’t sincerely my friends.
Leaving them to the bar cart, I walked a few more steps out of the way. I hadn’t made it very far before I’d noticed my father, standing proud and tall next to Robert Chetland, the current Prime Minister. Even though our family was of a high rank in the Cabinet, it was still a prestigious honor to have the Prime Minister at your graduation party. My father noticed my attention, catching my eye and nodding as I approached.
I tentatively stepped in his direction, suddenly more nervous than ever. This was the Prime Minister, after all, and who knew what my father expected from me. Finally, I reached them. My father, who had watched me approach, turned towards me.
“Robert, this is my son, Torven,” he said, introducing me.
“Congratulations, my boy!” Robert said, his full cheeks red and merry. “I’ve heard good things about you. Your father simply can’t stop bragging!”
“Ah, Robert, you know I’m proud of my son. I can’t help it.”
I felt my cheeks heat; my father didn’t often speak this way. I glanced up to see his expression. His smile looked genuine, his eyes far away.
“Well, now he’s ready to follow in your footsteps. Aren’t you?” he said, directing his question to me.
“Uh, of course sir. Our family serves Aruga. I’d do anything to further her greatness.” Mentally, I let out a breath of relief, once more thanking my practiced responses.
“That’s a good lad,” he said, clapping me on my shoulder with a meaty hand. “I’ll leave you to your father. I hear he has good news for you.”
With that enigmatic farewell, Robert Chetland walked away and was immediately intercepted by some other cabinet member eager for his attention.
Then it was just me and my father. I handed him my untouched flute of champagne, the one that Malley had just given me. I still had barely touched my first one. Ralen took it gratefully. A moment of awkward silence grew between us when neither of us knew how to start.
“I heard- “ I said as he began to speak.
“I have something –“ he said at the same time.
I sheepishly grinned at him. “You, first.”
“I have something to tell you, son,” he said, his eyes tired. The bags underneath them looked so much more substantial than I’d initially noticed, though his expression was one of excitement and hope.
“Cerise said as much,” I said, nodding.
He cleared his throat. “As you will one day be the Lord Montgomery, as you have now finished with college, I’d like to officially appoint you as my apprentice.”
“Thank you, father,” I said, feigning surprise, even though myself and everyone else around me knew it was inevitable. I was the only child of Ralen Montgomery - of course I was his heir.
“I want you to know that I truly am proud of you,” Ralen continued. “You’ll be a great Lord someday. Maybe even Prime Minister,” he winked.
“Father, that’d be a long shot, don’t you think?” I fidgeted with my glass, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The current Prime Minister was standing right there.
“Not with the right help. Is that something you’d want to do?”
I paused, as if this was an answer I had to consider. The truth was, I’ve known the answer for most of my life. It’s what I was born for, as a sociologist, as an heir, as a Montgomery. “It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. I truly believe I could serve the people of Aruga well.”
Ralen nodded gravely. “It’s serious business, that. But I have faith in you. You could do great things.” He looked off into the crowd contemplatively. “I’ve been helping pave your way there, son. We can speak of it more, later. Just know you’ll need allies.”
I nodded, unsure what he was really saying. Of course, I’d need to convince the other Lords to vote for me, but I wasn’t even a Lord yet. That wouldn’t happen until my father passed away, or resigned his own Lordship to me, and he wasn’t even yet sixty. Although, I suppose it makes sense to start building relationships sooner rather than later. Politics are certainly a long game.
“Son, tell Cerise I’m retiring for the evening if she asks for me. I’m not feeling so well.” He gripped his arm tightly, his lips taut and pulled into a thin line. He stepped away with careful, calculated, and precise steps, as if he would tumble over were he to place his foot wrong.
I paused for a moment, watching my father make his way through the crowd, clutching his arm, each step an exercise in composure. It was obvious to me, the way that he moved, that he was in pain. I wondered what was wrong with him – my father had always seemed hale and hearty to me, before. Still watching him, I made to go find some of those hors d’oeuvres that the chef had made, when suddenly, I smacked into someone, splattering champagne in every direction.
She blinked, surprised, holding a nearly empty champagne flute as well, brushing away the liquid from her sparkling dress. That was what I had seen first – the drops of alcohol on that glittering cloth, a shimmery gold spattered with drops of stains.
“I am so sorry!” I nearly shouted, flustered.
She looked up at me with large blue eyes and perfectly coiffed and curled pale blonde hair. She seemed more amused than upset, but I wasn’t going to take the risk. Besides, everyone would’ve seen my blunder. I had to try and make up for it, even if she was a stranger, she was still a guest in my home. For some reason.
An intelligent waitress had seen the collision and promptly brought us a cloth napkin before I’d even the chance or the thought to ask for one. She presented it to me, pressing it into my hands, as if to say, ‘don’t mess this up’, before leaving.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“My deepest apologies, miss…?” I asked, handing her the napkin.
“Alyss,” she bent her head in greeting, accepting the napkin I held out to her. She began to dab at the glimmering dress she wore.
“Sincerest apologies, Miss Alyss,” I said. “What can I do to make up for my mistake?”
She paused cleaning up to look me in the eye once more. I found myself wishing her big blue eyes were of a certain golden brown hue instead. “Perhaps a dance from the gentleman would ease my displeasure? Assuming he does not step on my feet.”
“The gentleman will try his best,” I said, a wry smile on my face. I extended a hand, bowing down as propriety expected of me when a gentleman asks a lady to dance. She took it, her fingers dainty and soft against my own.
I led her to the center of the patio. There hadn’t been any musicians here yet, only the violinist and pianist in the salon, but after a quick and sharp glance to a waiter, the violinist was hastily and quickly brought out to the patio before we’d quite reached the center. We set our champagne glasses on a table as we passed by, as we no longer would have idle hands to hold them with. The musician started to play, a classic melody, lilting through the air as we took up the proper dancing positions.
We began to dance, our movement smooth and fluid, like water flowing from a pitcher into a glass. Inevitable, turbulent, and beautiful.
“So, are you attending college?” I asked, trying to fill the silence. Her steps were light and dainty, but with such grace I felt incompetent beside her. Though I knew I was an accomplished enough dancer - every Lord must have his knowledge on such matters for times like these - she was leagues beyond me.
She smiled coyly at me, her eyes flicking up through thick lashes. “I am, as all Batemans must.”
I twirled her around as the music required, her hair fluttering as she spun. “And what do you study?”
“Business management,” she said with the slightest tone of disappointment.
I raised an eyebrow. “Do you not like it?”
“Oh, but I do, don’t misunderstand,” she said assuredly. “I want to learn to run my father’s business, I truly do, but if I had the option to do whatever my heart desires? It wouldn’t be that.”
I knew a little something about the conflict between the desires of the heart and the needs of a family. Mea Kaika came to mind, the most opposite of a woman from the one right in front of me. “What is it that your heart desires?” I asked, surprising myself with the candidness of my questions. I’d just met this girl, and here I was asking about her deepest hopes and dreams.
She surprised me further by answering. “Math, science, all of it. I want to learn, to study everything. Of course, I want to run my father’s company one day. That’s a goal of mine, the degree just a tool to get there. But if I had my way, I’d just stay in school to learn it all.” She smiled freely at me, her teeth glittering.
I didn’t have a response for her, momentarily dazzled by her winning smile. She was an entirely different woman than Mea Kaika, great for her own reasons, but completely opposite. I wasn’t sure what was happening to me.
The song finished, leaving her breathing heavily in my arms. Her slight figure felt like a feather, a glass doll I was barely supporting. She looked up at me with a fierce stare, those innocent blues suddenly calculating and determined, reminding me of someone else with fierce eyes. It appeared there was more to her than I first thought. I bowed to her, as expected of me, and she curtsied back, fingers clutching her shimmery dress just so.
My head was scrambled. I wasn’t sure what was really going on, but all I wanted to know for sure was what Mea was doing right now. I enjoyed my dance with Alyss, but I must admit – she wasn’t Mea. I longed for her wild adventure, the promise of mischief, her intoxicating exotic beauty. Alyss represented everything I was supposed to do. Marry well, into a family with connections that would support my familial duties as a Lord, keeping up with expectations. She was a lovely girl, of course, I couldn’t deny that, but I loathed being told what to do. And she was certainly that – a request from my family, of that there was no doubt.
Instantly, I wished my hands were full again with that crutch of alcohol. The champagne bubbles seemed so empty, so dull, and I ached for a shot of that Nari’e liquor that had led me to meet Mea that fateful night. What a curse and a blessing, that alcohol was. I shuffled through the slightly thickening crowd back towards the bar cart, hoping they might have something stronger than bubbly, and that the three colleagues of mine had vacated their position by now. I didn’t feel like seeing Joh, Lip, and Malley at the moment.
I pushed through a hard elbow, not even looking where I was going.
“Um, excuse you – hey wait, Torvo!” said a familiar voice.
I looked up, realizing that hard, skinny elbow belonged to one of my oldest and truest friends, Sheen Fisher. “Who let you in?” I said, mock seriousness and anger coloring my tone.
He just laughed. “Your stepmom graciously opened the door for me, if you must know.” He looked closer at me. “You doing alright? You look… elsewhere.”
He knew me too well. We’d been friends since childhood, nearly birth, even, though we hadn’t seen each other consistently since high school. Each of us had been too busy with school, although while I’d been studying sociology, Sheen had graduated high school early and now held his PhD in some sort of niche program with biological sciences, last I’d heard.
“Eh, you know how these parties are,” I said, lamely throwing off his concern with a shrug,” always draining.”
He nodded with a grim face. Though he wasn’t an heir to a Lordship like I was, his family was well to do, and was in the same social circle for that fact alone. He had dealt with his own share of nonsense like I had growing up. He knew all too well what these parties were like.
“Anyway, what the hell have you been up to?” he continued, his usual genial smile taking over the momentary dreariness. “It’s been too fucking long.”
“Just finishing grad school, sociology,” I said, waving away my accomplishment as if it were nothing. Compared to Sheen’s, it felt that way. I knew deep down that it meant something to me, and it definitely wasn’t easy to achieve, but his education always intimidated me. Even though he never had flouted it over me, I could see the shadow he cast regardless. “I heard you’ve just finished your doctorate in some nerd specialty.”
“You’re not wrong,” he laughed. “And I got a new job, too.”
“No shit!” I exclaimed, surprised. “Where?”
“Here in the capitol. I’m moving into my new apartment next weekend. You won’t be able to get rid of me here soon enough.”
“I never could get rid of you; I stopped trying years ago,” I teased. “What sort of job is it? Anything fun?”
“Highly classified government project,” he said in a hushed whisper. “I probably shouldn’t even mention that, truth be told.”
“Well that does sound fun. You a super spy, now?”
“Ah, I wouldn’t say that. I’m just a nerd, one of many.”
“Don’t belittle yourself, Sheen. You’ve always been a bit of a genius.”
“You flatter me. Save that shit for the Prime Minister – I saw you and your dad speaking to him.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Look at you, all special, the PM showing up to your surprise grad party.”
I laughed, as his antics always made me do. “You really should bow to me, Dr. Fisher. It’s Heir Montgomery to you.”
He laughed again. “You’ve had your whole life to get used to that title. Still feels wrong for me to be called Dr. Fisher.”
“You’ll get used to it, doc.”
“I apparently better. Anyway, we each have stuff to celebrate. What are you doing after this godforsaken party?”
I paused, because as much as I would love to continue spending time with Sheen, there were other people on my mind at the moment. I debated whether to tell him. I knew Sheen would be discreet, keep my secret, but I worried about what he would think. He never really was the rebellious type, and I wasn’t sure what he would say if I told him the whole truth.
“Maybe,” I allowed. “I don’t know how long I’ve got to stay here.” Which was true. I could feel the watchful eye of my stepmother, Cerise, even without looking around to see where I was. She had always kept a close eye on me to begin with, but in particular when it came to polite society and propriety. We had a reputation to uphold, us Montgomerys.
“Well then, let’s just drink more now and it’ll make the time go by faster,” Sheen suggested. “I’ll go grab you something if you want.”
I agreed wholeheartedly. “Anything stronger than champagne would work for me.”
“Great. Dishwater it is,” he said as parting words, making his way through to find us something good to drink. I hoped.
As I watched him walk away, I exhaled heavily. This party was really starting to feel suffocating. There were so many things I’d rather do, and now I had to choose between them. Either I escaped and made my way out to see Mea, or I stick around to catch up further with my oldest friend that I hadn’t seen in years. I felt guilty that I wanted to choose Mea over him. I just met her, barely knew her. I glanced at my WaComm, for what could be the thirtieth time that night, to see what time it was. It was growing increasingly late. Mea hadn’t mentioned when or where she would meet me. My plan had been to stake out the café, but I’d been unavailable the entire day. And here, now it was evening. My stomach grumbled. Might as well grab some food while I waited to figure out a plan. I remembered I had come over here to find some snacks to begin with and had never succeeded. It was time to change that.
I smoothed my clothes and turned to my left, but before I could make it a step further, I’d been intercepted once more. Internally, I groaned, but on the outside, I pasted on a practiced smile and greeted the two men who had diverted me. I didn’t recognize them, but each of them wore nearly identical formal suits, much like a lot of the guests here, differing only in the slight color variation of their ties. Both had gray hair, although one had significantly less of it than the other. The one on the left and with a fuller head of hair, extended a hand to shake to me first. I shook it, making eye contact, before the second man extended his hand as well.
“Jakob Mentel, Vice President of Arugan United Tech,” said the first man. “This is the Zack Bateman, President.”
“It’s my honor to meet you,” I said. “I appreciate your presence here at my graduation party.” I’d heard of Arugan United Technology before, or AUT as it was often called. They’d been in the news lately, their scope of business having expanded into government contracts recently. I wasn’t surprised that they were here; surely, they had interests and colleagues in the Cabinet. As always, parties like this were full of perfect opportunities for men like this.
“It’s our honor, believe us,” insisted Mentel. “We’ve heard great things about you.”
“I’ve heard great things about your company, as well,” I said, acknowledging their recent successes. “You’ve been expanding, I hear.”
“You’re not wrong, Mr. Montgomery,” said Bateman with a wry smile. “We’ve cause to celebrate too. But we’re not here to talk about that. Shall we cut to the chase? Has your father mentioned us to you, yet?”
Mentel leaned forward to interject. “Bateman, ease into it! Here’s the thing, Torven – can we call you Torven?” He continued without waiting for my answer. “Torven, we’ve noticed you’ve got potential. You’re going to make it far in this world. We see in you a young man that wants to change the world for the better. And we want to help you do that.”
I blinked, surprised. “What exactly are you saying, sirs?”
Mentel smiled at me, his full white teeth sparkling. “We know that one day, you’ll be a Lord. When that day comes, be it tomorrow or in ten years, we want to help support your election campaign.”
I raised my eyebrows. What they were suggesting wasn’t farfetched, or even unheard of. But it did come as a surprise. To enter into the [house of lords] could only be done by being born into the right family, but to become Prime Minister was a matter of vote. A Lord would campaign for votes from the Cabinet, to be chosen as the one with final say on all state matters for five continuous years. It was the highest honor bestowed in our society, and the government nonetheless.
My mind flew to Mea, as it had done countless times this evening. Maybe this was a way I could help her. The men were right – I’d always wanted to be the change I wanted to see in this world, and maybe this was the way I could go about it. It would certainly be more efficient than just my own single vote in the Cabinet. If I were the Prime Minister, then I could direct the proper legal action to give the Nari’e a true voice. Delegate them a representative, change their restrictions, grant them full citizenship status, even.
Was this the alliance that father had mentioned a while ago? Arugan United Tech was ingraining themselves into the government, that much was clear, so they must have Aruga’s national interests close at heart. I wondered if they would agree with my goals, if they would continue to help fund my potential campaign if they knew my views. Perhaps I could convince them to.
“You gentlemen bring up some interesting points,” I said slowly, my brain running wild with the idea. I barely noticed their reaction to my words, whether they were pleased or not. They must have been.
“And we can discuss this further when the time arises,” Bateman said, smoothing his negligible hair back. “Say, have you gotten a chance to speak to my daughter? She’s around here somewhere; I’ve been looking for her.”
“Your daughter?”
“Yes, my daughter Alyss. She’s wearing something gold and sparkly, I believe. Blonde. Have you seen her?”
I’d done more than see her; I’d spilled my champagne all over her just a short while ago and danced with her after. They must not have seen. “Uh, yes I have, a little bit ago.”
“You should speak with her. Sharp as a tack, and pretty as a picture. You two would get along splendidly.”
I shuffled my feet uncomfortably. Would it be strange to tell her father I’d already spoken to her? I wasn’t sure if I’d crossed a line. Everything about this conversation seemed strange to me, but I couldn’t place my finger on why.
“I’ll do my best to become acquainted with her, sir, if she’s as pleasant as you say,” I finally said.
“You do that, as a favor to me,” Bateman said. “Make sure she has a good time tonight. She deserves it.”
“Of course, sir.” I bowed my head to them, signaling the end of our conversation. “May you have a pleasant rest of your evening. Again, thank you for coming.”
They bowed their heads back to me, and silently walked away.
Sheen sauntered up to my side, a tall glass of something in each of his hands, the ice cubes clinking. “What the fuck was all of that about?” He pushed one of the glasses into my hand.
I shook my head, unsure what to say. “A glimpse of a better future, I hope.”