chapter Five
“Set it.” Narrie crossed her arms and watched him closely. She perceived everything, watching Mathieu’s every movement.
Mathieu began to set the table, doing his best to remember where everything went. He got the napkin in the right place, along with the plates, the cups and even the glasses, however, he confused the knives with the spoons and reversed the forks.
Sighing, the brunette fixed them and asked him to name the utensils.
After a third failed attempt, at both setting and naming, Mathieu picked up a spoon and chucked it. “This is stupid! I’ll never get this by tomorrow!” He dropped into the chair and let his forehead fall onto the table top. Tomorrow night was the gathering and Mathieu still couldn’t do a proper waltz, or tie his tie.
Narrie laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll get it, I promise. You’re almost there. Just a few more tries.”
“Forget it. I can’t do it. You’re gonna have to go.” Mathieu said in a defeated tone.
She laughed. “You’re crazy. You really think that I’m going? You already agreed and have a suit. Suck it up.”
Mathieu… Nikola wound around his ankle, let me go with you. I know how to set a table. I’ll tell you what to use… Her voice was a pout, nuzzling his leg. I can be a ball of light. That’s inconspicuous. Please? She whined.
“No, Nikola, you can’t come. I’m sorry. This is an invite only party.” Leaning down, he scratched behind her ears, fingers digging into the fur.
She nibbled his fingers affectionately. I know how to waltz. She added enticingly.
He laughed. Her antics never failed to amuse him. “You’re too cute. We can ask Avian, but it’s up to her.”
Nikola’s excited squeak concluded his lesson.
Mathieu thanked Narrie for her time, giving her a quick hug, before scooping Nikola up and carried her in the crook of his elbow towards Avian’s room. He’d learned the castle by now, along with all of his charge’s favorite places to hide. Everything in the palace had a distinct rhythm to it, one that he had become accustomed to dancing within. Smiling down at Nikola, he rubbed her belly; she purred lovingly.
A scream broke the stillness of the hallway, coming from Avian’s room. Tightening his hold on Nikola, he dashed into action. Mathieu slammed the door open with his energy, skidding into the room with almost wild eyes.
Instead of the accosting intruder he’d expected to find, he found Avian attempting to put on her dress for the party. It was a pretty green gown that wrapped around her sensually. Except at the moment, it was half on the floor, the clasp broken in her hand. “M-Matt, it b-broke!” She was nearly in tears as she held the broken piece out. “Fix it….”Despite the catch in her throat, her tone was still demanding.
Rolling his eyes, he took the clasp from her, as well as the dress, ignoring her partial nudity. Looking at it, he turned the two pieces this way and that. “It looks like you popped a stitch. Not a problem; I’ll ask Narrie to fix it.” Mathieu smiled encouragingly at her.
“Thank you!” Avian wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, kissing his cheek sweetly.
Ask her now… Nikola brushed against him, not at all offended that he had been dropped on the floor in favor in Avian’s dress.
If Mathieu’s mind eye could have rolled, it would have. Fine, gimme a second. “Avian…could I ask a favor?”
“Eh?” She looked up from pulling on her pants.
Mathieu set the gown aside. “…Could Nikola come with us? To the gathering, I mean. She really would like to go…”
The young woman tilted her head and considered. “Ehhh, why not? We’re already going to stand out and Nikola will give us a mysterious air.”
Then I’m coming, too. Tesla sat up from his position on Avian’s pillow, stretching languidly.
“Oh, no you’re not. Avian said Nikola, not you.”
Avian grinned and jumped onto the bed, cuddling and squishing Tesla in a playful manner. “Of course Tesla can come; he’s my friend.” She nuzzled him and laughed as he gave a half-hearted hiss. “Good kitty! Now.” She sat up, holding the Shadowrider captive against her chest., “Let’s go over the plan. We’ll go down to the Grand Hall at 7:30, just late enough to be fashionable, socialize until eight or so when dinner is called, dine with everyone, dance after dinner, then conclude with cocktails and more socializing. I’m hoping to meet Elise…” She kissed Tesla’s head and let him go, watching as he curled back up.
“I really don’t want to do this.” Mathieu said as he sat beside Avian and lay back, closing his eyes. “This isn’t my thing. Grr.”
“Too bad, you already agreed.” She lay back too and turned her face to his, grinning. “You’ll enjoy it, getting to peacock around and look cute. I’ll even let you talk to people. Maybe.” Giggling, she snuggled against him, laying her head on his shoulder. “Hey Matt…”
“Hm?”
“You know you’re my best friend right…?”
He cracked an eye open and smiled at her. “You’re my best friend too, Avian.” Mathieu pressed his forehead to hers. Curled up together, Avian fell asleep.
He didn’t know how or when, but Avian had become his best friend. They had tried to keep a wall of professionalism between them, but with their personalities, it hadn’t lasted. In fact, the first time he’d gotten up early and found her changing, it’d gone away. Mainly because she started throwing anything within reach, including undergarments. The whole thing had ended when he threw them back and she slipped on a bra that had already hit the ground. He’d caught her and they landed in a pile of panties. They laughed until neither could breathe and a companionable bond had started between them. And now, after the better part of a month together, they had become relatively inseparable even in their down time.
Smiling, Mathieu pet the young lady’s hair and slid out from under her, going to the window where a book she’d been reading the previous night laid discarded. He flipped it closed before setting it aside. Looking out the window, he realized how late it’d become during his little ponderings.
The garden below him was aglow that night. Tiger lilies and bearded irises were freckled with dew, reflecting the moonlight into the air in graceful arcs. Small lights were set intermittently along the paths that wove through the garden.
Mathieu returned to Avian and covered her with a blanket, set her glasses aside, and returned to his room once she was tucked in. The book that he’d taken from the orphanage was laying on the bedside table, open to one of the many blank pages. Night after night he’d stared at the blank pages, flipping through them. Forward, back. Back, forward. Nothing about the book ever changed except that sometimes it felt like it weighed a million pounds, especially when his mind started to wander.
Giving it a spiteful look for its emptiness, he prepared for bed.
~*~
The next morning, the suns rose bright and early. Mathieu rose with them. Looking at the ceiling, he kicked the blankets off, toes curling. This day was different from the others he’d been through. Avian’s lessons had been canceled for the gathering and he had been given the day off until that night. This suited him well because he wanted a chance to go see Grandpa. He seemed to have an extensive knowledge of things that weren’t…normal, if the few times Mathieu’s had visited him were any indication.
Grandpa might know about his mystery book and he had a driving desire to know, because it was making him insane. Getting up, he showered and dressed for the day in jeans and a frilly white shirt. By now, he didn’t bother fighting with the women about the clothing left in his dresser because he never won. Slowly but surely, he was now dressing and walking like a girl. He pull his long hair up into a ponytail. In the short weeks he’d been there, the white strands had taken on a lovely luster and had grown to almost below his ribs. It was getting very long and needed a trim. It was just one more thing to get done that day before the party.
He scooped up his book and shoulder bag, going into Avian’s portion of the large room. Placing a sweet kiss on her cheek, he snuck out of the room, taking up the keys to the carriage from their hook on the wall. Avian had taught him to drive it, which he did rather proficiently, if he did say so himself.
The drive took a bit longer than when Avian drove because he got lost twice; which was significantly less than the last time he drove there. However, once he got into the warehouse area, he was able to find his way. He only had to ask three people for directions, and they were none-too-happy with his description of ‘a store in a warehouse that sells lots of crap and is ran by an old man with a cane’.
Not surprisingly, the store was exactly as it had been each time before, minus his two new companions. He and Tesla had learned to tolerate one another because they needed each other in a weird sort of way: Mathieu was the only one who could hear him and Tesla was able to teleport him to Avian in an emergency. Although, he avoided using that mode of transportation because it left him feeling rather off kilter. Nikola, however, was much more easy-going. She was younger and had a way of lifting his spirits; she was his constant companion. Nikola was even with him now, tucked into the depths of his bag, fast asleep.
“Grandpa? You around here?” He hollered, looking around at the small colored orbs on a shelf. Each was labeled with a different trait: kindness, curiosity, pride, courage, and so on. Picking up courage, a marble size orb of a rich gold color, he rolled it in his palm.
A grumble from the depths of the store told him where the old man was. He wove through the shelves to the back corner of the building, orb still in hand, where a collection of odd weaponry was assembled. Grandpa sat sharpening some curved blade that looked to be part of a set.
“Oh, Avian’s little friend. How can I help you?”
Putting his actual desire on hold, Mathieu held up the orb. “What is it?”
Fixing the younger man with a look, Grandpa peered at the orb. “Courage. You swallow it and the magic helps you find that trait within yourself.”
“Hm. How much do you want for it?” He asked, looking at it. Perhaps it would be helpful.
The wizen man grunted. “Eh, keep it. No one wants those anymore. So what do you really want?”
Mathieu put the courage into a pocket of his shoulder bag, then sat on the counter and took up a long, thin blade that balanced well in his hand. “You know a lot of things, right? Well, I was wondering if you could tell me about a book.” The blade sung as he gave it a little swing.
“Put that down. What kind of book?”
Sticking his tongue out, Mathieu set the sword down, and fished around in his bag. That was something he liked about the old man; Grandpa never beat around the bush. Mathieu’s fingers brushed over Nikola lovingly before withdrawing his book and holding it out to the man. “I…picked this up from my last house. It’s blank and I don’t know what it is, but it seems like…er, something.”
Grandpa set aside his whet stone and the curved blade. He took the book from Mathieu and flipped it open. The pages were filled to the brim with writing. “It seems pretty full to me.”
His jaw went slack. “What the--”
“Is it not normally like that?”
“No. Normally it’s blank.” Mathieu reached out and took the book in his hand, forcing it to suddenly return to its normal, empty state. “See?”
Grandpa swiped the book back, the pages filling again. “Hm…I believe I know what this is, but where did you get it?”
“My last house. I already told you that.”
The old man gave him a flat glare. “I know that, but who was its previous owner?”
Mathieu chewed the inside of his cheek, looking away. He didn’t want to tell Grandpa that he was pretty sure it had come from a witch, so he just didn’t say anything.
Laughing the man pulled out his glasses and slid them on, eyes scanning the page for a moment. “I see. That is how it is.” Grandpa said in response to the lack of forthcoming information. “Well, let’s see here. Hm…mhm….yes, yes…hm…”
Mathieu watched the man for a time before rolling his eyes. “Christ, do you know what it is or not?” He exclaimed.
“This, Avian’s little friend, is a helping book.”
“A what?”
“You don’t know anything, do you?” Grandpa tossed the book back at him and took up his work again. “A helping book is a type of magical object that tries to satisfy the reader’s needs. Each one is different, and this one seems to be aimed with the future. When I read it, it talks about running a store and managing tips and such. For someone who wanted to be a jeweler, it might teach them how to tell a good jewel from a bad one, how to cut and set them, that sort of thing.”
Mathieu considered. “Okay, that’s nice and all, but then why is it blank for me?”
Tilting his head, Grandpa contemplated for a moment. “Well, these sorts of things are kind of fickle. Maybe it thinks that protecting Avian isn’t the final step for you, so it doesn’t see a need to help you yet. Something much bigger is on the horizon, I suspect, and you don’t know what it is. Once you figure it out, I’m sure the book will fill itself and help you. This is rare magic, so I’d recommend that you not let that book fall into unfriendly hands.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He said with a nod and watched the older man work for a while. Finally, curiosity overwhelmed him. “What is all this stuff?”
“Hm? Oh, these. They’re weapons from other countries. Those,” he motioned to rack of weaponry behind a wall of glass, “are Korinthian bred.”
Amazement coursed through him and the urge to touch them became overwhelming. He hopped off the counter and slunk to the glass cabinet, looking at the lock. Closing his eyes, he grasped the lock and let his energy flow into it. His control had greatly improved since he’d come to Ateri; Avian had forced him to train with Demetri until he was able to fight as well as the bigger guy could, only he was without a weapon. That had meant that he’d needed to refine his control until he could unlock a lock in seconds along with concentrate his energy down to a solid form, creating something of a weapon. It was strenuous work, but he greatly enjoyed and made progress rather rapidly.
The lock clicked open and he reached into the cabinet.
“Don’t bother. Normal people can’t wield them.”
“I’m not normal.” Mathieu said, not mentioning the fact that he had just unlocked a lock without a key. Reaching into the cabinet’s depths, he wrapped his fingers around the body of a long bow made of some glowing material. It hummed lightly in his grip and his eyes began to lighten to from their normal purple to a light mauve. The bow fit comfortably in his hand and pulled on his energy, wanting to mingle with it. The sensation was odd, yet it was comforting the way the archery weapon’s own energy twined with his to create a seamless connection.
Grandpa frowned. “Be careful with that…It was a gift.”
Mathieu waved him off in a rather rude manner, sliding his fingers along the delicate curve; a thin line of glowing energy appeared where the string should have been. As he pulled the energy string back, an arrow of the same energy formed, ready to be shot. “This is beautiful.” He slid the string back into place without firing it before hanging it back on the rack.
His long digits danced across the other weapons, his energy being pulled by each one in turn. Instead of taking any more down, however, he closed the cabinet and put the lock back in place.
Grandpa watched him curiously. “You really aren’t normal, are you, kid?.”
Grinning, Mathieu put his hands on his hips with a shrug. “Yep. Listen, I appreciate your time, but I need to get going. Have a few more errands to run before Avian summons me home.” He put a friendly hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’ll try to bring Avian by again real soon. And…Tesla wanted me to tell you that he’s doing well.”
“That’s very kind.” Grandpa nodded Mathieu out with a genuine smile, calling after him, “Have fun at the party.”
Leaving the store, Mathieu drove back to the palace, thinking over what he had learned. The bit about the book explained quite a bit about why he found it so useless at present, but what he found more interesting had been his interaction with the Korinthian weapons. It made sense that others couldn’t interact with them, considering that the weapons were imbued with the planet’s energy. Among the things he’d recently learned, he’d been taught to sense others around him that held a ‘genetic mutation’. Narrie had been the first he’d managed to sense. Her and the power she possessed, which Avian called ‘waterdancing’.
It was strange to feel people like him so close. And from what Avian had said, it seemed as though he’d be coming into contact with more like himself tonight, if the rumor that most Korinthians were mutated was true.
Pulling in and parking the carriage, he hopped out and went into the main building. Tesla was waiting just inside the door for him, sitting on a table so he wouldn’t be missed, tail flicking with irritation. Did you give him my message? The Shadowrider prompted almost immediately.
“Good to see you, too. Take me to where I can get my hair cut; then I’ll tell you if I told him.”
A small growl rose from Tesla’s feline throat, but he leapt from his perch to the man’s open arms. Darkness pooled around them, pulling him into the depths of a realm that only
Shadowriders could navigate. Soon they re-emerged just before a door to the castle’s barber.
Mathieu took a moment to steady himself; it felt like his insides were still settling into place. Supposedly, and he knew this from Nikola, if he spent more time in the space in-between, he could learn to navigate without them. He would also, apparently, feel less nauseated when he came out. It wasn’t a theory he wanted to test, however. Finally having collected himself, Mathieu peeked into the barber’s shop and was pleased to find it empty. “Hello?”
Did you tell him or not? Tesla interrupted in his head.
“Jeez, yes. I told him.” Mathieu said with a roll of his eyes, stepping fully into the room. “Hello?” He called again.
The barber came out of a back room, wiping his hands on his pant legs. “Who’s this? Oh, Avian’s body guard. Tell who what?”
The white-haired man shrugged one shoulder. “Nothin’. I was just kind of talking to myself.” He chuckled and sat in a chair. Telling people he could talk to a cat thing was not something he was very fond of, so he played it off. “I know that this is last moment, but could you just trim the dead ends off of my hair? I’m sorry for the trouble…”
The barber smiled. “Not a problem.” He guided Mathieu to the chair and started to brush out the mass of wavy curls. The barber sprayed down the white hair until it hung limply and began to clip the ends.
So what else did you learn? Tesla questioned, curling up in his lap. Despite how much they may pretend to hate each other, they still belong to one enough like spatting siblings.
Mathieu let his eyes slide closed as his hair was worked on. They would be there for a while. I learned about that book and saw some weapons from Korinth. They were interesting.
Sounds so. Are you ready for tonight? The Shadowrider nibbled along his finger.
A silent chuckled filled the space between them. Oh yes, I learned a waltz overnight in a dream.
Well, Nikola is good at a waltz, but you’ll need to take me so I can force you to keep your manners about you.
Avian said that you could go, no need to convince me further. Mathieu scratched behind the feline’s ears. Just relax, won’t you?
A soft purr filled Mathieu’s mind. I’m stressed because you aren’t. Cockiness is unbecoming. Tesla arched into the stroking fingers and made a ’murr’ out loud. They sat there quietly for a long time, the only sound being the soft hiss of scissors snipping hair.
The man finished with his hair and Mathieu thanked him profusely. Digging in his pocket, he tipped the man before leaving the little shop, carrying Tesla as they made their way up to Avian’s room; he dumped Tesla onto the vacated bed. A large chunk of the day had passed so it wouldn’t be easy to pin down Avian while she was deviating from her daily schedule. But maybe that was better because that would give him some time to finish up the things he had in his mind to finish.
Narrie came in with a basket full of laundry to be folded. “Oh good, you’re here. Help.” She threw a pair of pants at him, which he barely caught, and set the basket down. “So, I mended Avian’s dress and fixed the cuff on your suit. Your tie had a rip in it, so I had to find a replacement. I picked another one, silver, and put it in your closet.”
“Thanks, Narrie. Very sweet of you.” He folded the pants before picking up another article of clothing to be folded and laid it on the appropriate person’s pile of clean laundry. “You’re a lifesaver. And I wasn’t sure how to fix her dress, or I would have.”
“No worries. It only took me a few minutes. I told her that she had to be careful with that thing. The seamstress isn’t always very good at making clothing as durable as needed.” She rolled her eyes and scooped up her clothes. Narrie disappeared into her room to put it away; her voice was slightly muffled by the wall. “If you want to score major points with Avian, go down to the garden and pick a flower for her hair before it gets done. She likes little things like that.”
Mathieu had been thinking of doing something like that. “Yeah, I think I will. A tiger lily.”
Narrie came out and began to put away Avian’s clothes, stowing them in the two different dressers. “Yellow would make her dress pop, but red or blue would accentuate her eyes.”
“I like the blue ones best. That’s what I’ll get her. What time is her hair getting done?” Mathieu said, pulled out the pocket watch Avian had given him and checked the time.
Closing her eyes, Narrie thought. She had all of Avian’s schedules memorized. “Hm…5:30, I believe. She normally starts getting ready about two hours early.” She shrugged. “By the way, is your hair shorter?” The woman asked with a critical eye.
“I only had like an inch trimmed off. The ends were dead.” Mathieu said defensively and pushed it over his shoulders self-consciously, then he took his laundry and put it away before setting his shoulder bag aside. He fished Nikola out of its depths and set her on his pillow.
She puffed up slightly before glowing brighter and changing forms to her feline self. Mathieu, what time is it? Do we get to go to a party yet?
“No, hun. Sleep some more if you want. I’ll wake you in a bit.” He said, petting under his chin. “I won’t forget you.”
Mmph. What time is it?
Mathieu huffed and tugged lovingly on her ear with two fingers. “It’s just after 5 o’clock, okay?”
Nikola stretched, then curled back up, eyes sliding closed. Mathieu kissed her head before leaving her alone.
~*~
The garden was lovely during the day. The flowers were reaching for the suns, singing softly as they swayed in the breeze. Quickly, this place had become his favorite area on the grounds. The tiger lilies were all together, circling the area where a beautiful wrought iron bench sat in the center of the mini-maze. They ranged in color from red to blue, green, purple, and a few shades in between. Smiling, Mathieu knelt beside the blue ones. He began to hum softly, delicately touching a petal. The flower in question rose to him, rubbing against him. They were curious little things.
Wrapping his fingers around its stem, he focused his energy and created a smooth, clean cut. Pulling it free, he cupped his hands around it, and encased it in a ball of energy; the flower floated up from his hands and hovered there, safe from being damaged. Checking his watch again, he nodded to himself and delicately poked the little bubble forward, back toward the palace.
When he got back to Avian’s room, the young woman was perched on a stool and watching as the lady behind her piled her hair on top of her head in an elegant twisting up-do. Mathieu smiled at her from across the room, hiding the flower behind his back. The whole room was teeming with servants moving to-and-fro, working on Avian’s hair, dress, make-up, shoes, and all sorts of other things he couldn’t imagine needed to be done at that exact moment.
“Hey!” Avian waved at him, beaming via the mirror.
“Hey, Avian, how are you?” He approached the Princess, kissed her cheek, and seated himself on the window sill.
She wrinkled her nose. “Getting tortured by this broad. She keeps pulling my friggin’ hair.” Avian cast a mean look and a rude gesture at the woman.
“What if I said I could make it all better?” Mathieu said, wiggling his eyebrows.
She fixed him with a sideways look. “If I didn’t know you swung that way, I would get concerned about the things you say.” Then her face perked up. “But what will make me happy?”
Grinning, he held out the flower in the ball of translucent energy. “For your hair, love.” Happiness and embarrassment made his mocha colored cheeks flush at her squeal of delight.
“Thank you!” The brunette hopped off the chair away from her “torturer”, much to the large woman’s dismay, to glomp a hug on him. “I love it!” Avian kissed his cheek hastily as the lady pulled her back to the stool.
Smiling, he pulled the white strands over his shoulder, running his fingers through it. Mathieu winced lightly as his fingers caught a tangle. “So, tell me something…”
“Hm?” His best friend closed her eyes as the lady wove the flower into her hair.
Tilting his head, the man wondered how to phrase the question he’d been pondering about etiquette. “I know that there are proper ways to greet people of different statuses. Like ways to greet the…helpers of the important people, but I’m your protector, but you’re taking me as your ‘date’. Tell me, am I expected to act like a right-hand or like an equal to you? This is all very confusing.” Mathieu began to rub his temples. “Damn it!” He hated to have to think about stuff like this.
She smiled, “The proper title for the others is the ‘entourage’ and no one will know that you are mine. If they ask, you are my date, therefore you’ll be treated like my equal. Don’t worry about it. If you really make a big mistake, I’m play the Princess Card and they’ll have to forgive you.”
Stucking his tongue out at her, he blew a raspberry; that made her smile. “Thanks. This is hard work, I tell you.”
“You’ll get used to it. I mean, you’re gonna spend forever with me…right?” She looked up at him with big, golden eyes.
He stood and patted her head, smiling slightly. “Yeah, Avi…yeah.” Something inside of him told him that it was the right answer, but it didn’t help the knot that formed in his stomach whenever they talked about the future. There were just too many unknowns, too many variables he couldn’t account for. He knew deep down that someday he wouldn’t be by her side, that he wouldn’t be able to protect her; that scared him.
“Good! Now go get ready. The torturer says she’ll do your hair too. Make it all smooth and shiny and stuff.” Avian pointed with her toes to his bedroom door.
Nodding, he gently nudged her before going into his room. Sliding the closet open, he found his suit pressed and hanging, ready to be put on. Mathieu looked at it before pulling it off the hangar, feeling as though a daunting task lay ahead of him.
Twenty minutes and many swear words later, he stood half in his suit, half out. He had to jump around to prevent losing his balance. This thing has like eight pieces to it! Why couldn’t it have been as simple as
put on the pants, button a top and pull on a jacket. But nooo, had to make a fancy-smancy one that is going to make me break my friggin’ neck!
Nikola purred with amusement from her perch on the bed. Mathieu huffed to himself as he managed to right most of the suit and get it on. Mumbling to himself about the benefits of an instruction manual, he straightened the pants and tucked in the pockets. A few more pieces fell into place, with some aid of brute force, and soon he was standing in front of the mirror, supposedly fully dressed.
The suit was a deep red with black pinstripes. The pants fit his hips tightly but hung loosely around the rest of his legs and had straps that crisscrossed around his hips and thighs. Meanwhile, the jacket was single breasted, cut snuggly and actually looked pretty badass when buttoned. Under the jacket was a white shirt, a black vest and a silver tie. The overall effect was rather sexy, but it was a pain to get into. He was certainly glad that it wasn’t required of him to wear it daily. That might drive him to quit.
He scooped up Nikola, who had returned to her ball form, and put the Shadowrider into his pocket. Re-emerging into Avian’s room, he stretched and felt the suit move with him. It wasn’t overly uncomfortable, but it put him out of his comfort zone. His ‘comfort zone’ was somewhat skewed, however, considering he wore girls’ clothes now. “How does it look, ‘ey?”
“Damn.” Avian gave a low whistle and the stylist woman gave him a slack jawed look. The looks that they were casting him made him feel vaguely self-conscious, so he fiddled with the suit, buttoning and unbuttoning the jacket.
Avian smiled and hopped up again, much to the chagrin of the portly woman. “You’re hair isn’t finished yet,” the hairstylist huffed, “come back.”
“Nope, it’s fine as is. Not changing it now. Your turn!” The Princess pushed Mathieu towards the stool and forced him to sit down. “Now, make him look manly, but pretty. I’ll be right back.”
The woman, one of the ladies he’d seen in the servant’s dining room more than once, pulled his hair free of the hair tie he’d put it up with while dressing and let it cascade down his back. She picked up a brush and pulled it through the silky strands. The food here had done the health of his hair wonders and he appreciated it. No longer was it a mess of tangles, but it spent most of its time as a waterfall of luxury. He prided himself on it, somewhat.
“I think a fancy plait over one shoulder would be nice. We could give it a nice twisting column look…” The older woman’s fingers fiddled with his tresses as she thought aloud.
Mathieu shrugged one shoulder. “Whatever you think is best. You’re the stylist here. You don’t tell me how to protect people, I don’t tell you how to make people look good.”
She laughed and set to work, first getting the few knots out and then separating the hair evenly. He quickly became bored of watching her, especially since he didn’t think he’d put that much effort into anything in his life. Ever. His eyelids became heavy and he fell into a light doze. It wasn’t long before he felt a tug on his sleeve, Avian looking at him with expectant eyes, Tesla hovering just over her shoulder. “Eh, what?” Mathieu rubbed one eye blearily.
“You’re done. And it’s almost time to go.” Her makeup was done lightly, highlighting her naturally high cheekbones and startlingly golden eyes.
“Crap, I slept longer than I thought. ‘m sorry.” He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. Looking in the mirror, his hair now hung over his shoulder in an intricately twisted design that he was pretty sure he could never replicate in his life. Even with an instructional manual and unlimited time.
Avian patted his back. “Not to worry, it happens. I’m a fan of napping too.” With that, she threw her head back with a manic laugh that matched her personality. “Now, my loyal puppet, onward to the gathering of well-endowedly pocketed people!” One hand was on her hip, the other pointing towards the door, reminiscent of their first encounter.
Nodding, he rose and offered his arm, choosing to ignore her inability to create a proper sentence with real words. As she graciously took it, Mathieu led Avian out of her room and down through the house with a practiced ease. The palace was in full swing tonight, servants bustling here and there, laden down with dishes and trays. They all gave cheerily, heartfelt greetings to the pair as they went past, some even stopping to chat for a moment until someone else gave them a less than friendly look.
At the head of all the chaos seemed to be Narrie, dealing out orders to those who scurried by, frowning at those who seemed to be at a loss. Currently, she was berating one man whose hands were empty: “Is it not obvious that everyone else is working? Do you feel it is acceptable to stand around like a monkey while the rest of us work, trying to make this banquet as grand as possible? It is our job as the staff to create the perfect environment, meeting every expectation of our guests! How are you doing that at this moment?”
Avian bumped Mathieu lightly, “There she goes again. Man, I think she should just pop out a kid to yell at and leave the rest of our ears alone.”
“--ack to work. And I heard that Avian. However, you do look lovely and are perfectly, fashionably late. Now get in there before your father has a panic attack.” Narrie smoothly switched her attention to the stately pair. Avian nodded and allowed the bossy woman to lead them to the doors.
“I’m kind of nervous…” The Princess confided quietly, her cheeks tinting red with the admission. “What if I mess up or Papa thinks that I don’t belong there? I did sort of invite myself…”
Mathieu sighed softly and turned her to face him, setting his hands heavily on her shoulders. “Now you listen here. You’re one hell of a woman who never backs down from anyone. You can do this and you’ll do it with a flair that hasn’t been seen before. Everyone will think you are the most gracious, perfect daughter a man could ask for and he will be moved to tears by the aptness you show for such delicate, formal situations. If anyone is going to a make a fool of themselves, it shall be me and I will do it in my own dignified style.” Avian gave him a small, thankful smile. “Besides, if I think that you’re about to make a blunder, I’ll do something really stupid like spill my drink on myself or someone’s ‘entourage’. Fair enough?”
Avian hugged him quickly, giggling all the while. She straightening her dress, as well as her confidence, and nodded to the bossy lady.
Winking at the pair of them, Narrie grasped the handle of the heavy door and pulled it open, ushering Mathieu and Avian into the Grand Hall.