Chaos Trapped

by Eric T Knight

  “I don’t think I want anything to do with boys. It seems like a lot of trouble.”

  Liv laughed. “I don’t believe that, and neither do you.” She wagged a finger at her friend. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you making calf eyes.”

  Aislin’s heart fell into her stomach. Had Liv noticed her sneaking looks at Brecken? How? “I don’t…I don’t…” she mumbled.

  Liv put an arm around her. “It’s okay. It’s totally normal.”

  Aislin looked at her hopefully. “You don’t…mind?”

  Liv’s smile disappeared and was replaced by a quizzical look. “Why would I mind? He’s only a stable boy and not my type at all.”

  “Only a…who?” This was getting more confusing by the second.

  “I don’t know his name. The stable boy we saw this morning. You like him, don’t you?”

  Aislin felt a flood of relief. Her secret was still safe. “No. I don’t.”

  Liv grinned. “See? That’s what I’m talking about. First, you have to act like you don’t like him.”

  “But I really don’t like him.” She’d barely glanced at him and couldn’t even remember what he looked like.

  “Sure, you don’t. Go easy on him, okay? Don’t break his heart too fast,” Liv said. “Especially when there’s so many other boys who’d love to have you like them.”

  “You think…other boys?” The thought startled Aislin.

  “Oh, come on. You’re adorable. And that hair.” Liv touched Aislin’s hair. “I’d kill for your hair. Of course, you still need to do something about it.”

  Aislin winced. First the dress, then shoes. Now she was going to have to do something about her hair too? When would it all end? Why did being pretty have to be so much trouble?

  “What do you mean, I have to do something about it?” Aislin had a feeling she wasn’t going to like Liv’s answer.

  “I mean you’ll need to get it styled.”

  “What is that?”

  “It’s where they put your hair up and make it all fancy.”

  “Can’t I skip that part?”

  Liv laughed. “No, silly. Your hair is way too important to skip.”

  Aislin sighed. “This better be the last party you invite me to. I don’t think I can go through this again.”

  ╬ ╬ ╬

  The next morning when Netra got out the hairbrush, Aislin didn’t try to run away. Instead she went and sat down without being asked. Her mother gave her an odd look, but didn’t say anything. While she was brushing Aislin’s hair, Aislin spoke up.

  “I want to do something different.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t go to the party with plain hair, Mama,” Aislin said with irritation. Sometimes she thought her mother didn’t know anything.

  “But the party isn’t for a couple of days still.”

  “You think I don’t know that? It’s all anyone talks about, I swear. Are you going to do my hair or what?”

  “Of course.” For some reason Aislin didn’t understand, her mother got a big smile on her face. “Let me try something, and you see what you think.”

  “It’s not going to take a long time, is it? Because I don’t want to sit here for a long time.”

  “I know that, honey. Don’t worry. This won’t take long.”

  Aislin sat there and tried not to fidget while her mother fussed with her hair, pulling it this way and that. Her mother hummed the whole time, which was strange. Why was she so happy all of a sudden? Aislin wondered.

  “What do you think?” Netra handed her the mirror.

  Aislin took it and looked at her reflection. The truth was, she didn’t know what to think. Her mother had put her hair into two strands that stuck out from either side of her head. She touched one. “What is this?”

  “It’s called a braid.”

  “Is this how it’s supposed to look?”

  Netra laughed. “Yes, that’s how it’s supposed to look.”

  “Why are there two of them?”

  “That’s just the way that hair style is. I can change it if you like. We could try one braid in the back, like how I do my hair.” Instead of sounding disappointed, her mother sounded eager, as if she wanted to do Aislin’s hair again.

  “No,” Aislin said, hopping down off the chair. “That’s enough of that for now. I have to go.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Up to the palace to see Liv.”

  “How about if I come with you?” Netra asked.

  “Why?”

  Netra shrugged. “I don’t know. For company?”

  “No,” Aislin replied, missing the hurt look that crossed her mother’s face when she said it. Not wanting to talk about it anymore, she hurried out the door.

  “Randel should be waiting for you at the gate,” Netra called after her, but Aislin didn’t answer.

  Aislin touched the braids as she walked to the front gates of the estate. They felt weird to her. She found herself wondering if Brecken would like them, then frowned and pushed the thought away. She didn’t care what he thought. She didn’t care what anyone thought. It occurred to her that Randel was a boy, or at least he used to be. What would he say? Her steps slowed, and she glanced around, suddenly sure that everyone was looking at her. But the few Tenders and servants who were nearby didn’t seem to be looking at her at all.

  “Where are we off to today?” Randel asked cheerfully as she got to the gate. Then he saw her hair, and he whistled.

  “What?” Aislin said. “Why did you whistle?”

  “Your hair.”

  Aislin frowned at him. “Is that good or bad?”

  “It’s good,” he reassured her. “You surprised me. You never…you know…” He scratched the back of his neck, an uncomfortable look on his face.

  “Can we go? I don’t want to stand here talking about my hair.”

  “Lead on,” Randel said, his smile returning. He bowed deeply and gestured toward the gate. “Your carriage awaits.”

  “We’re going in a carriage? But I want to walk.”

  “I was only saying that. Pretending to be fancy people.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re going to a big party at the palace in a few days. I think that makes you fancy people.”

  Aislin frowned as she thought about that. “I don’t want to be fancy people. I just want to be me.”

  “That’s what you say now. But once you get a taste of it, you’ll change your mind. Everyone wants to be one of them.”

  “Treylen doesn’t.”

  Randel nodded in agreement. “But he’s probably the only one. Treylen’s a little different, that’s for sure.”

  “And neither do I.”

  He looked at her sidelong. “I should have thought of that. My apologies, m’lady.” He bowed again.

  “Stop doing that. I’m only Aislin.”

  “Okay, okay. What’s got you so touchy this morning?”

  “Nothing. It’s you. You’re being silly, and it makes me angry.”

  “That’s it for the silly then,” he said agreeably. For a while he didn’t talk, only whistled cheerfully. But as they neared the palace he said, “I hope I get to escort you and your mother to the party when you go.”

  “You want to go to the party? You think you’d like it?”

  He brushed off her questions. “There’s no way I’d get into the party. I know that much. I’d stay with the carriage, keep an eye on it. But it would be fun anyway, watching all the high and mighty people show up in their fancy clothes.”

  Aislin couldn’t imagine why that would be fun. Sometimes Randel was weird just to be weird.

  Randel greeted the guards at the castle gates, who waved them on through. He escorted her to the doors of the palace and then went off to find a place to wait. The doorman opened the door and Aislin went inside. A servant came by.

  “I saw the princess on the top floor a little while ago,” the woman said.

  Aislin headed f
or the stairs. There sure seemed to be a lot of people around, she thought. Servants bustled this way and that carrying boxes or baskets. Four workmen with ladders were hanging decorations in the entrance hall. Another man was crouched by the wall, painting. This party was making everyone crazy, she decided.

  She climbed to the top floor, now and then touching her braids as she went. She wondered if Brecken would like them, then yelled at herself silently for thinking that. She hoped she didn’t even see him today.

  Although she would kind of like to. It had been a few days since she last saw him.

  Lost in her thoughts, Aislin came around the corner and didn’t realize anyone was standing there until she was almost on top of them. Then she came to an abrupt halt.

  It was Brecken and Tessa. Brecken was leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets, and Tessa was standing before him—way too close to him, in Aislin’s opinion—twirling her hair with one finger. They both turned and looked at Aislin, who wished suddenly that she could fall into a hole and disappear.

  “Oh, it’s you,” Tessa said, rolling her eyes. “The little girl with the dress.”

  At her words, Aislin felt her anger flare up. She drew herself up as tall as she could, but before she could reply, Brecken spoke up.

  “Her name is Aislin,” Brecken said. “She’s Liv’s friend.”

  Aislin looked at him, trying to figure out if there was anything underneath his words, whether he was being nice to her or not, but she couldn’t.

  “That’s what I hear.” Tessa raised an eyebrow. “Did you get home okay with your dress, little girl? You didn’t lose it, did you?”

  “Don’t call me little girl,” Aislin said through gritted teeth. “I told you not to.”

  Tessa looked her up and down, as if she were a mouse that had suddenly growled at her.

  “Easy, Tessa. Aislin’s all right. Don’t be mean,” Brecken said. Aislin’s heart lifted at his words.

  Tessa smiled. It looked to Aislin like she had a lot of sharp teeth. “I was only joking, Brecken. You know that. You know how I like to kid around.” She gave Aislin a look. “All in good fun, right?”

  Aislin glared at her. Tessa turned back to Brecken, dismissing Aislin as if she were no longer there. She put one hand on the wall beside Brecken, turning her back on Aislin. “You’re going to love my dress. The old lady says it’s the prettiest dress she’s ever made.”

  “I bet,” Brecken replied. He sidled the other way, away from her hand. “Hey, I have to go take care of some stuff. I’ll see you later, all right?” He glanced at Aislin and nodded, then started to walk away.

  “Right now?” Tessa said.

  “Sorry.”

  “But you’re still going to save the first dance for me, right?” she called after him.

  He looked over his shoulder. “Sure.” He waved and disappeared around a corner.

  Once he was out of sight, Tessa stomped her foot and muttered something under her breath. She whirled on Aislin. “You ruined that. Why did you have to butt in?”

  Aislin’s next words came out unplanned. “He doesn’t like you.”

  Tessa glared at her. “What do you know about anything? You’re only a child.”

  “He ran away, didn’t he?”

  “Only because you came and stuck your big nose into our talk. We were doing fine until then.” She pointed one long finger at Aislin. “You better not do that at the party.”

  “Why?” Aislin said defiantly. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I can make your life hard, believe me.”

  “I’m not scared of you.”

  “Well, you should be.” She started to turn away, then turned back. “A friendly word of advice.” She leaned in close. “If you don’t want people calling you a little girl, ditch the pigtails.”

  “The what tails?”

  “These.” Tessa flicked one of Aislin’s braids.

  “They’re called pigtails?”

  Tessa nodded. “And only little girls wear them.”

  Aislin felt her face grow hot.

  A big smile grew on Tessa’s face. “Pigtails are for little piggies.” She whirled and stalked away, laughing softly.

  Aislin stared after her, hating her. She wanted to run out of the palace right then, but Tessa had left in the direction she needed to go to leave, and she didn’t want to see her again. Which meant she had to stand there. She was trembling all over, and her feelings were in a whirl.

  She was glad Brecken had stood up for her. At least it seemed like he did. Was that because he liked her, or did he feel sorry for her?

  At least he walked away. That meant he didn’t like Tessa, right? But what if instead it was like Liv said, and he was only playing hard to get?

  Mostly, though, she was angry at Tessa. She felt ashamed and humiliated. Hoping she’d given Tessa enough time to get out of the way, she hurried down the hall and peeked around the corner. There was no sign of the girl, and she continued on. As she walked, she pulled at her braids, hating them, wanting to make them go away before anyone else saw them and laughed at her.

  By the time she reached the castle gates she’d managed to get both of them out. She stomped through the gates, ignoring the guards. Soon there were running footsteps and Randel caught up to her.

  “Hey, did you forget about me?”

  Aislin ignored him and kept her gaze fixed on the ground in front of her.

  “Okay,” Randel said cheerfully. “I don’t mind being forgotten.” He faked a sniffle. “Much.”

  They walked for a bit in silence, then Randel said, “I knew there was something different about you. What happened to the braids?”

  “I got rid of them because they were stupid!” Aislin snapped at him. “Why do you always talk so much?”

  Randel held up his hands. “Whoa. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Don’t bite me, okay?”

  Aislin ignored him the rest of the way. When she got to the estate she went looking for her mother. She found her in their little garden, watering the plants.

  “Why did you put my hair in pigtails!” she yelled.

  Netra set the watering can down and looked at her. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “You put my hair in pigtails.”

  “I thought you liked the way they looked.”

  “No, Mama. I didn’t. Pigtails are for little girls.”

  Netra stood up and came toward her, her arms wide. “I’m sorry, Aislin. I didn’t mean—”

  “Now everyone’s laughing at me,” Aislin snapped. She turned and stomped away before Netra could get to her.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  All morning the day of the party wagons streamed into the castle carrying kegs and barrels of drink and crates and sacks filled with food. The kitchen was a frenzied morass of cooks and helpers scurrying this way and that in the nearly intolerable heat of the ovens. The halls of the palace were filled with workmen on ladders putting up last-minute decorations, while every servant who didn’t have something else to do swept and mopped already spotless floors and dusted furniture and art.

  Through it all moved Opus like a general on a battlefield, calling in reserves where needed, issuing orders, nothing getting by his eagle eye. Trailing him the whole time was a young woman named Kester, his chief aide. She was an accomplished woman for all her youth, sharp and detail-oriented, and he’d been training her personally for the past couple of years, with an eye toward handing over his position to her someday.

  “It’s coming off without a hitch,” she observed.

  “At least without anything that couldn’t be handled,” he replied. There’d been one incident, when a hurrying worker slipped on a freshly-polished floor and dropped an entire keg of red wine, which broke open and spilled everywhere. “The biggest challenge is still to come.”

  “The biggest challenge?” Kester asked, glancing at the sheet of parchment she carried, and the list of things to be done written on it.

  “Getting Macht Ro
me in place, properly dressed, at the right time. Fortunately, we have the queen on our side for that, and I’m confident she will manage it properly.”

  “Is he really that difficult?”

  Opus looked at her. “Have you heard the story of his coronation?” She shook her head.

  “He showed up late, wearing a torn shirt with horse manure on it. Said he was breaking a horse and forgot about it. Halfway through the coronation ceremony, while the priest was still talking, the macht stood up and said, ‘Enough. I’m bored. Give me the crown and let’s start the party.’”

  “He did?”

  “He did. The soldiers loved it of course, and it was mostly soldiers in attendance, scratching the floors with their rough boots. The priest turned white. He took to his bed for days after that.”

  “What did you do?”

  “What could I do? I made the best of it. That’s all I could do. The point of all this is that the macht is like the jester face on the dice. He can, and often will, do anything at any time. There’s no way to completely prepare. You can only do the best you can.”

  ╬ ╬ ╬

  “I still don’t see why we have to have this party,” Rome grumbled.

  Bonnie had just spent a fair bit of time trying, unsuccessfully, to button a stiff collar around Rome’s thick neck. Now she stopped and gave him a gimlet eye. “We’ve been over this,” she said in an icy tone.

  “What good is being macht if I have to go through this torture?”

  “Really? This is torture?”

  “What else would you call it?”

  “I call it you acting like a child, that’s what I call it.”

  “I’m not acting like a child,” Rome said sulkily.

  “You’ve been complaining all day. Earlier I caught you trying to hide this collar in the rose bushes on the balcony.”

  “I wasn’t trying to hide it. I was only moving it.”

  “To a flower pot.”

  Rome winced. “When you say it like that it sounds bad.”

  “Because it is bad.”

  “But I hate this stuff. Look at me,” Rome said, holding up his arms. His shirt was yellow, with puffy sleeves and lace cuffs and a triple row of brass buttons down the front. It was tucked into voluminous white pants that ended just past the knee. A long, light blue sash was tied around his waist, the ends dangling almost to the floor. On his feet were long, pointed felt shoes. “I look ridiculous. Everyone will be laughing for days when they see me.”