The Overwhelming Question

This chapter took a while, but it's longer than my chapters normally are, so hopefully it was worth the wait. It's actually pretty exciting: high tea is amusing, but even more interesting is what happens when the Tam-Zayric rivalry comes to a head...

  

                “You look absolutely lovely, dear.” Tasmine crooned as Ellyra looked at herself in the full-length mirror. The dress was a reflective burnt orange, two straps arching over her shoulders and fastening to a high back, appropriate for the fall weather. The middle featured a few ruffles before it opened onto one of Marina’s trademark glittering skirts, more of the magical  golden thread weaving its way across the skirt in artistic patterns. As with Eliza’s ball gown, Ellyra’s dress was fashioned out of layers of soft silk that fluttered quietly when she walked.

                “Thank you, Tasmine.” Ellyra responded, slipping her feet into the matching orange and gold slipper shoes that Marina had made for her. “I can’t believe you made something this pretty so quickly, Marina!” She turned to the ghost and smiled. “Thank you so much.”

                “It’s no trouble at all, Miss Ellyra.” Marina bubbled gaily. “I’m happy to do it. Truth be told, I was already working on this one for you before you got ill. I just had a lot more time to embellish it a little. I do hope it’s the right  style for your event.”

                “I’m sure it will be.” Ellyra said confidently, turning slowly. “I’m like a leaf.” She observed. “A living leaf turned orange by the cold.”

                “And a prettier leaf the world has never seen.” Tam told her gallantly, striding up from behind.

                Liza, who was watching Ellyra but had thus far failed to comment, looked up at Tam. “Where are your manners?” She chided the fairy. “You’re supposed to knock before you barge into a lady’s room. Even I know that.”

                Tam grinned. “Well in my defense, you left the door slightly ajar. If Ellyra were still changing you would’ve closed it.”

                “Tamarisk! Your hair!” Tasmine floated over to Tam, armed with a metal comb, and hovered a few feet above the ground to reach his hair, pulling the comb through his curly gold tresses with some difficulty.

                “I’m sorry, Tasmine.” Tam said, laughing. “My hair stays still for no man, so I doubt it will make an exception for a ghost.”

                “You shut your mouth!” The ghostly housekeeper commanded, continuing her work. “Marina, come over here and brush Tamarisk’s shoulders. There’s dust.”

                As the ghosts worked, Ellyra joined Liza in her position in the corner of the room and they both admired Tam’s new appearance. Neither of them had seen Tam wearing anything other than a simple tunic and loose slacks, so seeing him in a tailored men’s suit was quite a change. He wore a starched, white shirt with a well-fitting black jacket and pants shoes to match. Ellyra couldn’t help feeling a little jealous that Tam was allowed to wear real shoes instead of the thin slipper shoes that did so little to protect against the cold ground outside.

                “You really do look very pretty.” Liza murmured to her friend, squeezing her hand. “It’s weird how I don’t even like dresses or stuffy events and yet I’m envious that you get to go instead of me.”

                “It’s a new lifestyle, isn’t it?” Ellyra responded sympathetically, resting a hand on her shoulder and leaning back against the wall. “It’s fun sometimes, I suppose.” Smiling playfully, she nudged Liza gently. “Especially if you’re friends with the crown prince.”

                “I wouldn’t really call it friendship.” Liza told her, eying Ellyra’s expression doubtfully. “A state of mutual tolerance is more like it.”

                “But he talks to you and things. He doesn’t just write you off as an airhead anymore. Goodness, Liza, he confided in you – he told you the true story of what really happened to Cleven, didn’t he?”

                “Yes, after a brief lecture on fairy-human economics.” Liza muttered. “And he just told me that stuff because he had to. His father probably wanted me… or rather, you to have the whole story. He only pays attention to me because he thinks I’m you.” Liza couldn’t help feeling a small pang of guilt as she said this; so far she had managed to avoid the topic of Zayric and his conversations with her, at least around Tam. She still hadn’t told him that the prince suspected that Tam was a fairy, although she probably should. Eliza didn’t want to risk upsetting him, though, especially not just before an event where Tam and Zayric would have to be civil to one another. Silently, Liza resolved to tell him as soon as he got back from the palace, and then realized that she was concentrating too much on her own thoughts and returned to the conversation.

                “He didn’t like me until you took over.” Ellyra was saying. “He thinks you’re smart, Eliza. That has to count for something. I’d say that’s as close to friendship as Zayric gets.”

                “We must be going!” Tam announced, his wild curls now tamed to Tasmine’s grudging satisfaction. “Out the door and into the carriage you go, my lady!”

                Ellyra leaned on Tam as they descended the stairs, although not with the same dependency as she had the day before. She had awoken early that morning with much more strength than she had had the previous afternoon, which was a joy to all, including Eliza. The Dove was by no means fully recovered, but everyone was confident that she was at least well enough to attend High Tea. Before the huge double doors were opened to allow Tam and herself admittance to the outside, Cleven and Fallin approached to say their farewells.

                “You’re sure you’ll be able to handle the carriage all right?” Fallin asked Tam worriedly.

                “Nothing to it.” Tam assured him. “Your lessons were quite sufficient.”

                “Gentlemen attending High Tea do not drive carriages.” Tasmine reminded them irritably for the third time, floating down through the  stairs.

                “We didn’t have much more of a choice, Tasmine.” Cleven soothed her, although his narrow eyes never left Ellyra. “The professor’s got to stay here and monitor my condition and a ghost can’t do it, for obvious reasons.”

                “I could drive the carriage.” Liza suggested hopefully, but her proposal was met by a collection of shaking heads.

                “Too suspicious.” Tam expounded on the response before Liza could protest. “And besides, you don’t really know how.”

                “Any more than you do?” Liza challenged, eyes narrowing.

                “Oh don’t make this an argument, too! Please!” Ellyra cried. “We must be going. It’s getting late.” Ellyra hugged her best friend. “I’m sorry Eliza.” She whispered one last time, pulling away as Cleven stood upright to open the gaping double doors.

                “Farewell, Ellyra.” Cleven said to her, reaching out a paw, but then thinking better of it. “And take care of yourself. Don’t overexert yourself.”

                Ellyra smiled and stroked Cleven’s arm. “I’ll be fine, Cleven. Don’t worry.”

                “Cleven? We need to get you to the east tower.” Fallin reminded him gently. “Good luck Ellyra!”

                “Let us away!” Tam proclaimed, leading Ellyra outside and handing her gracefully into the carriage before climbing up to the driver’s seat. “We’ll return presently!” He called, and urged the horses into movement.

                Liza watched, shivering in the doorway, and strained her eyes to see the carriage until it had vanished from her sight.

               

                Zayric sat on his father’s right side, trying desperately to concentrate on anything other than the mindless prattle being exchanged around him. Not that such a task was terribly difficult. His eyes seemed magnetically drawn to the entrance of the large dining hall; his glance rested there every few minutes. His fingers drummed impatiently against the pure white table linen. When would Ellyra arrive? Twice he had excused himself to look for her carriage (although he had given his father a far different excuse), but both times were ultimately fruitless. Then again, not all of the courtly ladies had filtered in yet. Traditionally the host of a High Tea gathering was expected to give their guests half an hour to arrive before the tea was served, and Ellyra still had a few minutes to slip in without being considered late. Surely Ellyra knew that arriving at High Tea after the tea had been served was a dreadful social faux pas. Although, Zayric worried, if she did know this, then it was possible that she wouldn’t show up at all, in order to be spared the ridicule of the court, who, as Zayric knew very well, could be very scathing to a person who broke one of their “sacred” rules. Then again, it would be even worse for her to refuse an invitation from the crown prince. Zayric sighed shallowly, his shoulders sagging a little for a few seconds until Raiel – his etiquette tutor who always sat on his right at occasions like this in case he should fall victim to bad posture – jabbed him discreetly in this side.

                As Zayric turned his head slightly to glare harshly at his tutor, his ears caught snatches of what one of the ladies was saying.

                “And her dress! Heavens above, I thought it was going to fall right off! No straps at all, I tell you! Her shoulders were totally bare! And the skirt! Goodness me! It didn’t even reach her knee! It was scandalous, Lady Hannah. Absolutely scandalous!”

                This little snippet came from a regular invitee to the royal High Tea, and thus she was one of the few that Zayric recognized. Lady Penelope was her name, and Zayric was solidly convinced that the sole reason she continued to receive invitations came from her knack at acquiring juicy court gossip. Zayric figured that his father must have kept inviting her because her broadcasts of the latest trivial gossip kept the ladies and gentlemen in attendance too interested to bring up the subject of the impending war. It was a clever and effective move on King Clemantias’s part, Zayric had to admit, but unfortunately it meant that he was required to sit through all of Lady Penelope’s boring palace gossip.

                Lady Penelope’s best friend, Lady Hannah, was another regular attendee at elite castle gatherings such as this, although Zayric suspected that his mother and father ensured her attendance for different reasons than diverting the court’s attention from the current political system: Lady Hannah was regarded by many as the greatest beauty in Calassi. She was tall and slender, her skin blanched fashionably pale from her precaution of staying under the shade of a parasol whenever she walked outside. Dark, glossy ringlets framed her round face and her eyes were two deep, mysterious orbs complimented by long lashes and tantalizingly full lips. It was no secret that Lady Hannah was King Clementias and Queen Sybil’s first choice for Zayric’s bride, and therefore she held a position of rather high esteem in the eyes of the entire court.

There had been a time, some months ago, when Zayric had been desperate enough to seriously consider her as an option – after all, if falling in love would break Cleven’s curse Zayric had to least consider her. He quickly discovered, however, that even though Lady Hannah’s eyes were deep, her tastes and thoughts were not. She was perfectly content to sup with Lady Penelope and discuss shallow gossip day in and day out; Zayric had actually witnessed the two of them exchanging pointless, humorless stories for hours on end. Once Zayric had tried to engage Lady Hannah in meaningful conversation, but she had just stared at him vacantly and agreed with everything that he said until he gave up. Unfortunately, because many suitors found vapid subservience an attractive quality rather than an unattractive one, Zayric was at a loss to explain to anyone else why he found Lady Hannah such an unappealing bride. For this reason, Zayric allowed the court to think that Lady Hannah was the Lady with the most chance at acquiring his hand; he didn’t feel like explaining why this wasn’t true to the rest of the court, and at the very least it would give some of the other ladies less incentive to throw themselves at him.

                Zayric resurfaced from his thoughts when a final, longing glance toward the entrance revealed a small, thin lady dressed in orange stepping gracefully into the hall. “Finally.” Zayric breathed, standing up hastily and approaching Ellyra. He barely noticed that the conversation at the long table muted to a dull muttering as he made this gesture, and all eyes followed his actions.

                “What took you so long?” Zayric hissed, taking Ellyra’s hand and guiding her over to the table. As he did so, Zayric could feel the small Dove trembling, and he noticed that she was far paler than usual.

                “Sorry.” Ellyra responded unsteadily. “It took a long time to get out the door. There’s someone else coming, too.” She squirmed a little under the gaze of so many courtiers; she could imagine the types of nasty things the must be thinking about her at that moment.

                “Fallin?” Zayric asked, as he pulled out the chair across from him so Ellyra could seat herself in it. He gestured to the chair next to her, which was also vacant. “Yes, we had a cancellation, so we can fit him in over he—” Just then the prince caught sight of Tam, who was striding in confidently after having parked the carriage in the appropriate place.

                When Tam was close enough, his gazed locked on Zayric’s and he bowed low. “Good to see you again, your majesty.” He intoned to the ground.

                “Why Tamarisk, I didn’t recognize you without your torn breeches and tattered tunic.” Zayric responded scathingly. “I wasn’t aware you were capable of dressing like a gentleman.”

                “Quite capable, thank you.” Tam assured him, rising. “And more capable of acting like it than some people.” He stood next to the empty seat, waiting for Zayric to return to his own chair.

                Zayric did so slowly, casting a baleful eye on all who were watching him. He was half-tempted to remain standing just so Tam would have to as well, but just then the servants arrived, bearing beautiful pots of tea and multi-layered racks of tea cakes and sandwiches, causing Zayric to grudgingly take his seat.

                As the tea was poured, Ellyra regarded the king and queen. King Clemantias seemed rather surprised at her presence, but Queen Sybil was calm and unsurprised, and for a brief moment caught Ellyra’s eye and flashed her an encouraging smile which Ellyra could not help but return. A hush fell over the room as everyone waited for the king to take the first sip of tea, the signal that the rest were allowed to begin drinking theirs. When this was done, Zayric reengaged Tam in conversation.

                “So what brings you to our humble gathering, Tamarisk?” Zayric inquired, adding a few drops of milk to his tea.

                “Lady Ellyra requested an escort.” Tam responded promptly. “And with good reason. She hasn’t been feeling well, I’m afraid.”

                “How noble of you.” The prince sneered, reaching for a blueberry scone.

                “It’s what any gentleman worth his name would do.” Tam countered, sipping his tea with perfect grace. “I certainly like to think that I am.”

                “I’m sure you do think that.” Zayric rejoined. “Whether it’s true or not. So tell me, Lord Tamarisk, how does the tea here in Calassi compare to the tea in Galandrin?”

                “Oh, you’re a foreigner?” Lady Penelope, who had evidently been listening to the conversation, asked with relish. “No wonder we haven’t seen you before! I’ve done a bit of vacationing there two summers ago. Horridly hot, sometimes. Which village do you live in?”

                Zayric smirked candidly. “Yes Tamarisk. Do tell us all about Galandrin.”

                Ellyra looked quickly over at Tam, praying that he would be able to cover for himself, since at least half the table as now listening to what he had to say.

                Tam, however, seemed rather unruffled and smiled at the lady who had asked the question. “I am indeed a foreigner, my lady. A diplomat, actually. Let’s see… where to start? You are quite right – the weather there is rather frightful at points. It works mainly in extremes: very hot in the summer and very cold in the winter, and never much rain. We have some lovely forests, however. I go walking in them often – especially the one that borders the palace. I do not live in a village, you see, but rather in the palace itself. I must say it’s quite a bit smaller than the one you have here in Calassi. I’m quite impressed.”

                “Oooh a Galandrin courtier!” Lady Hannah squealed in wonder. “Tell me, what’s it like living in such a fashionable place?”

                “Galandrin is a fashionable place?” Tam asked, mystified. “Why! If only I’d known!”

                “Certainly! The best fabrics come from Galandrin, and the best cheeses!” Lady Penelope cut in matter-of-factly. “I’m surprised you don’t know that yourself.”

                “Well in my defense, I’d never had any Calassian cheeses before I visited.” Tam countered. “And fabrics are imported to us from all over the world.”  

                “And how do you find the government?” Zayric inquired, purposefully veering the conversation away from trivialities before it could go any farther.

                “It’s effective.” Tam said simply, his smile fading as his stare focused on Zayric.

                “Yes, but in what sense? And what do you think of queen what’s-her-name… Cortessa, Corlissa…”

                “Cordelia.” Ellyra interrupted quietly. “The queen’s name is Cordelia.”

                “Let’s not discuss politics.” Tam suggested. “It’s bad enough that I have to deal with them all the time through my profession.”

                “That’s a good point.” Zayric acknowledge, ignoring Tam’s request. “What exactly are you doing at Cleven’s—”

                “Zayric, I agree with our guest. No discussing politics. That’s far too heavy conversation for High Tea.” King Clemantias’s rebuke was swift and unsubtle: his glower was unmistakable and it even made Ellyra cringe.

                “He came so close to talking about Cleven’s castle.” Ellyra thought ponderously, watching Zayric slouch back in his seat, only to spring up again as if by magic and glare at the man sitting next to him. Ellyra looked over at the two fine ladies who were still badgering Tam with fashion-related questions, the answers for which Tam was happy to invent. “And Zayric almost let it slip in front of those gossips.” Sighing inwardly, Ellyra decided that it was time to engage Zayric in conversation. She only hoped she was up for it – she clearly remembered his sarcastic barbs from before and she wasn’t entirely sure that she’d be able to counter them the way Liza could.

                “Don’t worry, Zayric.” She whispered across the table. “Nothing was said.”

                “Since when do you sympathize with me?” Zayric asked crossly, sipping his tea.

                Ellyra flinched and thought hard about what Liza might say before she answered. “Since we’re both stuck here drinking tea with a bunch of uninteresting nobles. We’re both out of our element here so I figured you could use a little sympathy.”

                Much to her great relief, this remark drew the tiniest of smiles out of Zayric. “I’ll allow that, although I’m deeply offended that you think I’m out of my element here. I was born into this life, I’ll live in it and I’ll die in it. If anything, this is my element.”

                Ellyra turned her eyes down and put some milk and honey in her tea before sipping it, using her actions to buy her time to think about how Liza would respond. She also silently thanked Heaven that she and Liza were so close, otherwise she would never have been able to come up with accurate responses. “Just because you grow up a certain way doesn’t mean that it’s how you like to act or what you’re best suited for.” She sputtered finally. “Forgive me, but it seems to me that if this were your element than you’d enjoy it a bit more.”

                “Oh and just what is my element, then, Miss Know-it-All?” Zayric challenged, finishing off his scone and reaching for another.

                “I don’t know that and it’s not fair of you to ask.” Ellyra answered easily, glad that this time she didn’t need to think so hard about what she was going to say before she said it. “You’re the only one that can figure out where you thrive. I can’t since I’m not you. So there.” She took a triumphant bite out of her tea sandwich and chewed it thoughtfully, watching his face. “it’s kind of fun to be Eliza.” Ellyra concluded to herself. “I just say the cynical things I’m thinking out loud and sometimes I have to back up why I think them. Maybe this isn’t so hard.”

                “So this new illness of yours. How long have you had it?” Zayric waved over an attendant so he could have his cup refilled.

                This question took Ellyra by surprise so much that she nearly choked on the rest of her sandwich. She coughed several times and answered it as truthfully as possible. “Well truth be told, I haven’t been feeling well for the past few days. I’m sure I’ll be over it soon, though. Today was just a bad day.”

                Zayric nodded and sipped at his tea, which, Ellyra noticed, he took unaltered this time. “I can see that.” Glancing over at Tam to make sure he was deeply engaged in anti-intellectual conversation, Zayric leaned across the table a little and lowered his voice. “Why did you bring Tam and not Fallin as your escort? He could do damage here, now that he’s in the castle!”

                “D-damage?” Ellyra asked, baffled. “What sort of damage?”

                “You know…” Zayric said. “What we were talking about before.”

                Panic welled up in Ellyra’s chest. What had Zayric told Eliza? Cleven’s story – she knew that now, and in detail because Liza had repeated it for her – something about fairy embargoes… what else? Liza hadn’t told her. “Which… which thing? When?” Ellyra asked, flustered.

                “About Tam!” Zayric hissed impatiently, his fingers drumming on the table. “We talked about this yesterday.”

                “S-sorry but I can’t seem to recall. I… oh…” Ellyra closed her eyes, her pulse racing wildly. Her body slacked and her breath came short.

                “Ellyra?” Zayric ventured, straightening up in his chair. “Are you…?”

                Tam noticed seconds after Zayric had reacted and immediately his attention was fully locked on her. “What is it Ellyra? Feeling sick again?” He asked gently, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. A brief glance toward the two queens of gossip told him that they were watching Ellyra intensely, so he desperately threw out another “juicy” Galandrin fashion fact to distract them.

                “I… just… some air. I… I think I need air.” Ellyra stammered, her eyes still tightly closed.

                Tam rose from his seat and help Ellyra out of hers. “Let’s get you outside, then.” He bowed to the king and queen. “Excuse me your majesties. Lady Ellyra and I must depart for a few moments so Lady Ellyra can catch her breath.”

                “I’m coming too.” Zayric declared after a few brief moments of consideration, standing up so quickly that he knocked over his teacup. He ignored the protests of his parents and the horrified gasps of the rest of the company, not to mention their shocked stares, as he followed Tam and his frail charge outside and into one of the smaller gardens.

                At any other time, Ellyra would’ve greatly enjoyed looking at the fountains and brilliantly colored autumn life within the garden, but just now she was too preoccupied with her churning stomach and rapid pulse. Leaning against the marble railing that framed the steps to the garden, she pressed a hand to her forehead and shivering in the bitter late autumn breeze.

                “What’s wrong, Ellyra?” Tam asked her seriously, shielding her from the wind with his body. “You looked ready to collapse in there.”

                “I seem to be doing a lot of that in this palace.” The sick Dove responded miserably. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the castle itself is trying to ward me off.”

                “What hurts?”

                “My head aches, my stomach is tying itself in knots and I can’t seem to catch my…” Ellyra breathed deeply, wincing. “Why is it so sudden? It was this way last time, too.”

                “I don’t know, Ellyra. Maybe you’re theory isn’t so far-fetched. Do you think it could have something to do with Cleven?”

                Ellyra’s head shot up, panic reflected in her eyes. “If it is then it means that we’ve got to get out of here and see what the trouble is.”

                “We can’t now.” Tam pointed out. “Not without being inexcusably rude. We’ll just have to stick it out a little while longer. I’m sure Fallin and Liza can handle anything that’s going on at the castle. Besides, Cleven’s locked up in the tower for now, so he’s in no danger of hurting anyone.”

                “Cleven is where?” Zayric demanded, striding into the garden with long, important steps. “What did you just say?”

                “Nothing that would concern you at the present moment, your majesty.” Tam snapped hastily, not bothering to look at the irritated prince. “We’re busy dealing with the current crisis.”

                “And what sort of a crisis is that, Tamarisk?” Zayric inquired, advancing on him with such menace that Ellyra shrunk under the protection of Tam’s shoulders, quivering against his chest. “More serious than a fairy walking around unabated in my brother’s castle?”

                At this, Tam slowly turned his head, meeting Zayric’s acidic gaze with his own nonchalant one. “I beg your pardon Prince Zayric, but what, exactly, are you talking about?”

                “You know perfectly well what I’m talking about, and so does Ellyra!” Zayric spluttered furiously. “You’re a fairy! Dare you to deny it?”

                “I do, rather.” Tam replied politely. “I can only assume that you mean it as an insult, which I suppose would make sense given your brother and your country’s situation. I’m sorry to disappoint you, Prince Zayric, but fairies have wings and I, quite clearly, do not.”

                “Oh don’t give me that!” Zayric bellowed in exasperation. “You’re doing one of those things that Fallin used to go on about in lessons. A Keeper thing. Where you have your wings removed.”

                Tam shook his head slowly from side to side, making sure to keep a steadying hand on Ellyra’s shoulder as he regarded the flustered prince with the air of one who obviously thinks the person to whom he speaks is patently insane.  “I’m sorry Zayric, but I’m afraid I have to ask you to take your wild imagination back into the dining hall. You’re upsetting Lady Ellyra and that’s certainly not proper.”

Slowly, Ellyra ducked out from Tam’s protective embrace to remove herself from the line of fire; she was still weak and thus she clung helplessly to a different portion of the railing, fighting another wave of dizziness. It was hard for her to move from the warmth and comfort of Tam’s shielding presence, but she was sure that in moments sparks would be flying – and she was right.

                It took a few seconds for Tam’s blatant order to sink in, but the instant it did Zayric temper flashed white hot, and before anyone knew what was happening the prince’s fist buried itself deep into Tam’s left cheek, sending the unprepared diplomat reeling back so far that he had to clutch the railing from falling over it backwards.

                This violent and unexpected action prompted Ellyra to scream shrilly and to run, or in her case move as fast as she could, to cover Tam before Zayric could throw enough punch. “Zayric stop!” she shrieked, tears glazing her eyes. “Enough of this!”

                Zayric hesitated momentarily and then lowered his arm, leaving Tam to rub his jaw and glare sullenly at Zayric. His fingered twitched and balled into tight fights, but he kept them at his sides, too concerned with the little Dove risk retaliating.

                “Arrogant b*****d.” Zayric murmured to Tam, his own cold gaze meeting his foe’s. “Don’t you ever try to order me around.”

Tam did not respond directly, but he muttered something under his breath that neither of the two listeners could make out.

                By then the sound of footsteps could be heard echoing through the corridor leading up to the garden, and Tam wrapped his arms around Ellyra’s shoulders to keep her from trembling as they waited tensely for the newcomers to arrive.   

                Three muscular men dressed in the fine robes of nobility but obviously bodyguards, stopped a few paces away from the little group and bowed reverently to the crown prince. “Is there something amiss, your majesty?” The biggest one asked Zayric humbly, and then he nodded to Ellyra. “We heard a lady scream.”

                Zayric glanced briefly at the other two and then turned his head to the bodyguards. “No.” He responded curtly. “Nothing’s the matter.”

                At this reply the smallest of the men looked puzzled. “But your majesty!” He objected. “We thought we heard—”

                “You heard nothing.” Zayric cut him off harshly. “Now get back to whatever it is you were doing. Rounds. How should I know. Leave us.”

                “Yes, your majesty.” The three men left swiftly, the smallest lingering a little to watch Tam rub his jaw, but another sharp glance from Zayric hurried him off.

                “Neither of you shall speak of this.” Zayric ordered Tam and Ellyra, glowering at Tam. His gaze softened, however, when it turned on Ellyra and he reached for her hand. She did not offer it immediately, particularly owing to Tam’s firm grip around her shoulders, which she noticed tightened slightly when Zayric made the gesture, but after a few moments of hesitation she eventually gave it to him.

                The prince regarded her seriously and was silent for several seconds before speaking. “I am deeply sorry that that happened, Ellyra. Especially in your presence. This insolent buffoon is partially right – violence is not a sight fit for ladies’ eyes. But I was angry. I… I do… stupid things when I’m angry.” He tugged gently on her hand, coaxing her away from Tam’s embrace.

                Ellyra looked uncertainly back at Tam, whose glaring eyes left Zayric only for a brief instant. The next moment stretched before the three of them like infinity, like a rope bearing just too much weight and snapping fiber by fiber, so that when Tam finally let go of Ellyra, it felt like he had been holding her for an eternity. Zayric pulled Ellyra smoothly into him as if they were dancing. He as not as physical as Tam; he extended his right arm so she could lean against his arm and shoulder, and his fingers curled around her waist to give her extra support. “Are you feeling any better?”

                Surprisingly, Ellyra was. The unexpected drama and the appearance of the three strangers had given her other things to worry about instead of her physical condition, so she hadn’t even noticed when she had started to feel better. “How strange it is that these little fits of illness should come and go so quickly.” She thought distantly. To Zayric she said, “Yes, I… I don’t know why or how, but I think I am.”

                “Ready to go back in and have more tea? It’ll be boring, but I promise there will be no violence.”

                Ellyra inclined her head, glancing over to Tam.

                Zayric followed her gaze, and his own hardened immediately when it fell on Tam, who had been strangely silent since Zayric’s outburst of violence had occurred. “I would advise you to be careful, fairy.” Zayric sneered, his tone more sarcastic than harsh now; his damage had been done and he it was enough for Zayric that Tam was unable to strike back. “I’ll be watching you.”

                With that, Zayric turned and began to help Ellyra back into the castle and find their way back to the tea room. Tam hung back for a few moments, watching them calculatingly. “I’m sure you will, Your Impetuousness.” He whispered softly to himself when he was sure that Zayric and Ellyra were out of earshot. “And we will be careful. Much more careful.” Then Tam followed them slowly, rubbing his jaw. “Damn.” He thought in annoyance. “This makes it much more difficult to eat or drink anything.”

               

*

 

                “Get another desk to block the door with!” Eliza commanded the ghosts. “And another torch! Where’s Fallin?”

                “He’s in the kitchen making a mixture of Garner’s weed to tranquilize him with.” Marina told her worried. “You’d best get out of here in case something happens.”

                “No! If the door fails we need to be here to see if we can—”

                “Eliza, he’s gone mad. He’ll hurt you! Several of us have tried to go in and reason with him but he keeps trying to get is claws into us. He can’t hurt the dead. You need to get away from here.”

                Liza bit her lip. “But what if he comes to his senses? Someone needs to monitor—”

                “We do have eyes and ears, you know.” Marina answered crossly. “Just because we’re dead doesn’t mean we’re useless. Now get to the library! That’s the safest place; the doors are heavy and they lock fast.”

                Huffing, Liza acquiesced. “Be careful Marina.”

                “There’s no need, Eliza, but thank you.”

Liza hurried through the dusty corridor, holding her torch high as she ran up three flights of stairs to get to the library. Although she was curbing her fear rather well, given the circumstances, her heart had been thudding in her chest long before she had begun to run, and her palms were slick with clammy sweat. When she arrived at the library door, she pounded frantically on it, glancing over her shoulder intermittently in case Cleven had somehow escaped and was following her. Moments later she heard the click of locks and Fallin pushed the heavy door open a crack with much effort.

“Come inside. Quickly!”

Not needing to be told twice, Liza darted into the library and leaned against a bookcase to catch her breath. “How’s the mixture coming?”

“It’s coming well, considering what I’ve got to work with.” Fallin responded, grimacing and leading her over to the large desk where he had set up a makeshift laboratory. He seized the mortar and pestle that were sitting on the table and began to vigorously mash the herbs inside. 

“This all happened so fast! One minute he’s normal, talking to us from behind the door, and the next he’s a snarling monster who’s trying to break it down and get loose.” Liza moaned, pacing around the library and running her fingers over the bindings of the books.

“It’s a good thing that we got him securely in the tower as soon as we did.” Fallin observed as he worked, grinding out the juices of the herb in his mortar. “It was only a few minutes after the carriage left that he switched. If we had put him in there any later we would’ve been done for.”

“Oh, this is madness…” Liza sighed, turning to come back to the professor. “I hope Ellyra and Tam come back soon.”

“At the very least we now know that Cleven’s fits definitely have something to do with Ellyra’s presence in the castle.” Fallin pointed out. “It looks like you’ll be going to that ball in Ellyra’s place after all, Eliza. It’s far too dangerous to let Ellyra out of the castle for that long.”

“Mmm.” Eliza responded; then another thought struck her, making her gasp. “Fallin, how are we going to get the Garner’s weed into Cleven’s mouth?”

“The ghosts are going to have to give it to him.” Fallin answered wearily. “There are enough of them to keep him still and he can’t hurt them. I just hope I don’t give him too much.”

Liza stopped dead and turned to face him, her skin paling considerably. “Do you mean that much of this could kill him?”

                “It’s a pretty potent drug, Eliza.” Fallin explained. “But it would take a lot of it to kill a creature his size. I’m just estimating and I’m really no scientist, but I think a little too much will just knock him out for a few extra hours, and it’s better to have him asleep than to have him out here chasing us. He could kill us, Eliza, and in the state I think he’s in he’d have no reserves about doing it.”

                “But why?” Liza wailed, backing against a shelf and sliding down it. “Why would he want to kill us? I can sort of understand his attacking Tam and Cypress. I mean, they’re fairies. I guess in his mind they kind of deserve it. But what have we ever done to Cleven?”

                “I don’t know that he would want to come after us, Eliza, but we can’t afford to rule out that possibility, but it could— wait a minute. Cypress! Where’s Cypress?”

Author's Note

I was expecting this chapter to be far easier to write than it was, which is a little disappointing. Please forgive the excessive description at the beginning - I'm rather desperate to up my wordcount at this point and Zayric's having someone that his parents want him to marry adds an interesting sort of tension to the whole ordeal.

Some things I'm shaky on, though: how's the scene with Zayric and Tam? It is believable enough? Also, is the transition between sections too abrupt?

Reviews

[Hannah!]

Oh dear.

I liked this chapter a lot. Not what I was expecting...but I don't really know if what I was expecting would have been half so interesting to read.

The scene between Zayric and Tam...I think it was believable. It seemed to be a long time in coming. It was exciting to read, and I felt really bad for poor Ellyra. It would not be fun to be in her position...though I suppose that goes without saying? The title becomes a bit more clear to me every time she's brought back into the story--though everything I think is merely speculation, and I probably don't have any real idea what I'm talking about, so...perhaps I should just stop speculating (but what would be the fun in that?). I'm REALLY interested to see what happens between Zayric and Tam later on, though. One has to assume that Zayric will be returning to the castle to see his brother--and away from the courtly crowd, Zayric will have a lot more to worry about.

It's weird, though, because I never would have guessed that Zayric and Tam would ever fight with anything more than words. I had pegged Zayric as impulsive, but this really did surprise me. And yet, it seems to fit his character well. It's always weird when that happens. You do it rather often. Stop confusing me! XD

I didn't think the transitions were too abrupt, either...but I have always been a fan of abruptness, so maybe I'm a bad person to measure it with. Transitions are hard to do, and considering your current goal, abrupt transitions are only to be expected. Anyway, when the scenes change, the scenes are supposed to change. Honestly. Sometimes, you can do something to ease into it--but it really doesn't work all that often. :/

I liked this chapter. I don't know if your courtly ladies added anything to the tension, though. They didn't make the scene drag, so there's no reason to get rid of them, but they did have a sort of 'place holder' feel, especially since none of the other guests are even mentioned. I'm not sure how you would mention the other guests--I assume there were more than those you named, but they're sort of vague and in the background. But...ugh. I don't know where I'm going with this, but Lady Hannah and Lady Penelope did add a certain amount of tangibility (I really don't know if that's the word I want) to the scene, even if Lady Hannah didn't add tension.

I LOVED your ending. Loved it. Here, the abruptness REALLY worked to your favor. I was sort of lulled into...something of a false sense of security after the conflict between Tam and Zayric had died down, and the first sentence of the new scene REALLY jolted me awake. Haha. Too many reallys.

I'm excited for the next chapter. I am. Good work!