Anise approached slow at first and picked up her confidence the closer she wove through the growing crowd. Khloe watched her go, excited, nervous, but overall disappointed. Anise wasn’t Khloe’s first friend to marry and leave her circle. Sure, letters came in the beginning, but there were fewer with each passing month as people had babies, ran households or were the proper courtier ladies with no need of a friend who couldn’t climb with them. That’s father’s reputation for you. She thought with bitterness. She’d received betrothal offers or outright marriage in the past when she was younger. Lord DuPont scrutinized each and every one and found them all lacking. After a while the offers stopped coming. At this rate I’ll be an old maid and father will be taking care of me until we both turn to dust. The thought soured further when she saw Anise brighten during her introduction. Her soon-to-be husband looked at Anise with a welling of joy in his face that spoke every unsaid word. A glow radiated from them like excited fireflies. Khloe couldn’t help her jealousy, though she wished for Anise’s happiness; she wanted someone to look at her in such a way.
“I’m the fool who should be getting on with my life. Get a husband or pick a profession, Khloe, either way father will find some fault with it.” She murmured as she slipped into the crowd to find a dancing partner.
While Khloe battled with her own thoughts Anaiah searched out a place to hide himself both from his father and from the other guests. After his mother had been whisked away by a gaggle of her friends, he’d had no choice but to leave his seat. He couldn’t linger alone at a table for two people when others sought places to sit. He wound his way downstairs and took care to avoid nullified magic bubbles centered on, now that he thought about it, obvious ornaments. From a long dead poet’s bust to a new candelabrum masquerading as part of the emperors set, he made note of all that glittered in deception. I hate these damn things. I know why they’re important, but I don’t have to like them. He thought as he caught sighted his sister. Like him, she’d been left to her own devices, though she integrated herself with her peers. He played with the idea of talking to her, but he knew she’d fob him off.
Anaiah felt an elbow go into his back and his balance chuck forward. A hand seized his shoulder and tugged him back the way he’d come.
“So sorry!” Anaiah turned around to find the young man who caught him.
“Ah, no harm done.” He said, though his back stung. The young man puzzled at him through large round spectacles; blue eyes contrasted his pale freckled face now a shade of red.
“I wasn’t looking. I’m supposed to have glasses to correct this problem.” The awkward youth fidgeted with the frames of his specs, adjusting them on his nose. Anaiah noted his tunic beared green and gold.
“Y-you’re from house Lenton, right?” The young man brightened.
“Good to see a representative of DuPont here. Are you their mage?” Anaiah’s brows knitted.
“You could say that. Dodging the bubbles in the magic field, are we?” he hazarded in an attempt to lighten the mood and his own climbing anxiety. The youth smiled, relieved.
“Oh finally, someone understands. My lord thinks I’m a scobberlotcher for sure, believes I’m a fool foisted on his house. My avoidance of these…contemptible knickknacks is an annoyance to him.” Anaiah gave a slight chuckle.
“It isn’t as though you hauled him up here in a glass carriage.” Anaiah joked. His higher spirits dropped when the lad’s face blanched.
“O-oh…it was your carriage outside, the-”
“-Yes, yes, have your laughs now. I am worse than second rate, it’s not like it hasn’t been said.” The nervous mage pressed his lips together and awaited the scorn with his eyes downcast.
“Don’t say that. It happens every year. You’re not the first person to break a glass carriage.” Anaiah said. “In fact, if it didn’t happen every year you’d technically be ruining a great tradition.” It didn’t raise the young man’s sullen expression. Anaiah sighed, kicking himself. He held out his hand to his accidental acquaintance. “Let’s start over. I’m Anaiah, a mage so detested in his house; I’m not allowed to perform magic on the barest of trinkets.” He smiled. The young man pushed his straw colored bangs out of his face.
“Martin.” He took Anaiah’s hand. “I-I’ve never been allowed to attend one of these. I’m so overwhelmed by it all.” Anaiah glanced over to the dance floor as the music changed, his sister swept off by some lad in orange and white.
“I know the feeling, too much going on at once.” He affirmed.
“Tell me, Anaiah, if you were to make a glass carriage, how would you do it?” Martin asked in earnest. Anaiah shrugged, picking his words more careful this time.
“I’m not sure, I’ve not attempted. I’d never start with blown glass, however.” Martin’s sapphire blue eyes, magnified by his glasses, locked on Anaiah’s own dark ones.
“Why not? It’s already hollow so it’s perfect for crafting seats and the like.”
“It also leaves your carriage fragile for the same reason. I’d never make a carriage from glass. Maybe fashion some decorations but, never the actual carriage no matter how romantic it may seem.” Martin nodded and his shoulders fell.
“My Lord Lenton’s daughter requested the carriage; I daren’t deny her request.” He admitted. “She were all aglow when it pulled up, but once we were on our way it came apart. You saw the result of my haphazard work. Lord Lenton is not pleased with me one bit.” Anaiah’s eyebrows drew together.
“It made it here on glass wheels with passengers, there’s nothing haphazard about what you tried to do, seems to me the request that was in error.” Anaiah said as he folded his arms, trying to bury his guilt over the comments he made to his mother and sister.
“Is that so?” sounded another voice from behind them. Martin half exited his skin.
“M-my Lord please I-” Lord Lenton, though not a towering man, intimidated like a giant. Wiry and gaunt his ashen skin and sunken eyes gave off a grave digger impression. Somehow even his tunic faded when affixed to him. Martin shook in his boots and shied away, a puppy preparing to be smacked on the muzzle.
“What am I to think of an indignant, ungrateful, mooch who boards with me, has meals at my expense, and then slinks off from his duties to gossip about his master?” Lord Lenton’s voice didn’t climb in pitch but its weight increased. “And to Lord DuPont’s only son, no less. Think you a man big enough to slander me to lords of my emperor’s court?” The blood ran from Martin’s face and he near about doubled over; Anaiah put a hand on his shoulder to steady the flagging mage.
“He made no such remark. I’m the one who offended with my inference and I apologize.” Anaiah’s voice steady as his heart raced.
“Are all mages snakes?” Lord Lenton snapped. Anaiah’s eyes narrowed on him.
“Are you referring to me, then?” Anaiah asked aware Lenton and his father were friends.
“You would hide the indiscretion of a stranger under your own?” Lenton smiled rows of skeletal white teeth beneath his thin lips. “It would seem your father and I agree on at least one thing, you mages who don’t pledge to military are a waste and a drain-” Lenton glowered down at Martin with a manner befitting a reaper. “-on those of us unfortunate enough to be saddled with you.” He growled. “At least I can be free of Martin.” Anaiah felt the fire before he saw it; a flash of flames pulled from the candelabra on the wall behind Lord Lenton ran right up the lords back and caught his tunic. The sallow face twisted into panic and Lenton grasped at his back, yipping like a swatted pup. Martin stretched his hand forward and conjured a rush of ice to smother the flames in a large white steam puff.
When the smoke cleared Anaiah’s ears perked up at the silence punctuated by gasps and shocked utterances. He stood stone still and felt as cold inside as the ice felt on his skin.
“You are every bit a disgrace!” Lord Lenton shouted. He jabbed his finger at Anaiah as the steam cleared. All faces turned on them and Anaiah’s heart hammered so loud his blood rushing in his ears half covered Lord Lenton’s voice. Khloe enjoyed a dance when the commotion started; hollers and a hissing steam cloud stilled the band and all the merriment. She couldn’t call herself surprised finding her brother at its center.
“Oh that blighted idiot.” She snarled, grabbing handfuls of her dress and stomping her way through the paused crowd.
“Martin, you can find some other fool to employ you, don’t even bother returning to the manor. Things like you ought not to be allowed off your leashes, much less in polite public-” Lenton’s rant cut off with a sharp clap that echoed through the ball room.
Anaiah’s brows shot into his hairline and his eyes bulged.
“Are you quite finished?” Khloe asked, her slap having sent Lenton sideways.
“Indeed.” A deep feminine voice boomed overhead, rebounded off every pillar. The room shook at the intonation and the stunned court raised their eyes to their emperor. Her golden tresses wove back into a thick braid that glistened with gems neath her ruby jeweled crown. White feathered pauldrons outlined her broad form in her stiff silver gown. A graceful edged giant as she descended the stairs, the changing chandelier light transformed her dresses hue.
“Her majesty, Emperor Lorena DeSylvia Zavaan.” Every head bowed, even the scorched and flabbergasted Lenton.
“I do believe they’re aware I’m here.” She said to the herald who blinked in surprise but nodded. “What is this raucous display, then?” she asked to Lord Lenton, half lidded eyes narrowed on him in clear displeasure. “You’ve started a row with our beloved General DuPont’s children, what say you?”
“General or no, his son gossips about me to my own servant, sets me ablaze, and his daughter slapped me, in such a fashion as to injure my pride. What business has she to slap a man in her emperor’s court?” he exclaimed, scorched appearance made him appear more a mad man than a disgruntled courtier, his combed over hair now jutting off his head in all directions. Khloe scoffed.
“If you were a man at all, you’re a bucking mule braying when he is riled. I did what one does when a beast of burden begins to snort and huff. I gave you a slap.” Though none dared to laugh, Khloe swore she had crowd approval.
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