found his way over to him.
“I’m sorry to say that you are number fifty-one. Before you got here the pairings were perfect. I’ll tell everyone to switch partners after the first song and you should get to dance.”
“Is there any way that I can not dance and go to bed. I’m not sure I feel so great.”
For the first time Yinnib looked stern. “Get over it.” He put on his usual airy smile on and strolled away.
A small band of musicians started playing music. Dancing ensued. Ackerley watched from the corner, wondering if he’d get in trouble for running off now. He couldn’t imagine they could do anything except stick him with Mr. Jett for a few days.
He’d made up his mind, took a deep breath, and started slowly around the ballroom towards the door. He almost made it when something made him stop in his tracks.
Across the room a door opened and the princess glided in. That annoying woman came in with her, but Ackerley didn’t pay any attention to her. He stared transfixed at the princess, now wearing a bright pink dress. It was far nicer than any clothing Ackerley had ever seen. His heart skipped. She was the fifty second person. Without thinking he started towards her.
She sat in a chair against the wall. Ackerley got closer and suddenly found himself staring down at the woman who dragged him all over the place the night before.
“You!” She screeched a little too loudly. “How dare you come within a mile of here. Get back, get away you fiend.”
Yinnib appeared as he often did. “Young Morzha, what are you doing?”
“I don’t have a partner.” He sputtered. “She doesn’t have a partner.”
Madame Thrindle looked too dumbfounded to even protest such an idea.
Yinnib took Ackerley’s arm and led him away. “Princess Cerise doesn’t count. I thought what happened last night would have gotten that idea across.”
“How am I supposed to know these things? Nobody tells me any of this stuff.”
Ackerley was taken out of the ballroom. Before he left he glanced back. Instead of seeing the princess he saw fifty kids staring at him. He turned bright red and hurried to the exit.
Yinnib took him to the spiral staircase.
“The rules are simple here. First and foremost, don’t talk to the princess.” Ackerley tried to defend himself but Yinnib cut him off. “Secondly, don’t talk back to a noble or a teacher. Thirdly, and this is the most important thing for you, do not under any circumstances cause any sort of trouble.” He put a hand to his head and shut his eyes. “You kids are going to shorten my life. I don’t want to have to do this, but I must make you work with Mr. Jett again. Meet him in the dining room at eleven.” Yinnib sauntered back to the ballroom.
Despite how bad he felt, Ackerley had gotten out of there without dancing. He went ahead and counted that as a small victory.
6.
Ackerley threw off the oversized tarp that vaguely resembled a fancy tunic and flung on the pants and shirt. He sat on his bed and tried to get over how embarrassed he felt. There would never be a way back from that. Every fancy dinner, every task, every time he saw another living soul he’d be laughed at and called the kid who looked like a fool and tried to talk to the princess.
He rolled off the bed and found a window sill to sit on that overlooked the front of the castle. Torches were lit and he watched as guards marched back and forth from the front door to the gate. The gates suddenly opened and someone came in on a horse. Behind the horse trailed a large box. Ackerley wished he could hear what the rider said to the guards, who untied the box from the horse’s saddle and dragged it inside.
Ackerley hadn’t thought of anyone coming into the castle. He figured the gates stayed closed forever unless more children had to come through. It made sense that someone had to come through. That box probably had food in it. Shipments probably came every few nights to keep the castle stocked.
His mind finally turned from recent events and he was able to think clearly. He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to be anywhere. Home life wasn’t the best and now he just wished he could go to that Vloraisha place he’d heard about in class. All he knew was that it was sunny and beautiful. It sounded nice.
“Hey.”
Ackerley turned around and saw Jarn standing nearby.
“Oh, hey, how was the dancing.”
“It was alright after you left.”
“I’m sure everybody had a good laugh.”
Jarn chuckled. “Not exactly. No one could believe you did something blatantly against the rules. I heard people saying things like: ‘who was that guy?’ or ‘that was really cool’.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I’m serious. People got a kick out of you trying to go up that girl like that.”
“Really? I mean they really did? They didn’t laugh or anything?”
Jarn sat on the window sill. “No. I mean at first they did, with the oversized clothes and all, but when you did that—I mean wow. The nobles here are really against anyone doing anything against the grain. Usually its just morons like Murdo sneaking out at night, but to do something forbidden with all the nobles in attendance—you’ll be a hero.”
Ackerley assumed Jarn was being too optimistic about the whole thing. The idea of being some kind of bad role model intrigued him, though. Not that he wanted to be bad or anything. Maybe there was a middle ground where he could gain their respect while occasionally going against the nobles. Of course if the other kids found out that he found the princess fascinating they may think he was weird.
“That’ll make going to tasks tomorrow a little better. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to take a nap. I have to meet Mr. Jett in a few hours.”
“I don’t normally ask this,” Mr. Jett began a few hours later in the dining room, “but what did you do to get here two days in a row? Even the people I see all the time usually wait a few days before getting in trouble again.”
Ackerley innocently told about how he tried to dance with the princess.
“I see it now. They like to keep her locked away for some reason.”
“Do you know the reason?” Ackerley asked, pushing the sweeper across the floor.
The two of them had been picking up the mess from the formal dinner. They just finished the dining room and were now onto the ballroom.
“I know she’s a princess of one of the outlying regions, but I don’t know much else.”
“What’re the outlying regions?”
“Well gee-wowz you don’t know much do ya?”
“I didn’t learn any of this fancy stuff at home.”
“This fancy stuff is your history.” Mr. Jett pointed out.
“I may live in this kingdom, but if I didn’t know the history how can I feel connected to it?”
Mr. Jett thought it over through narrowed eyes. “Got me there. Anyway, the outlying regions are three small kingdoms that the great Chell was never able to conquer. They bribed him with their loyalty if he’d stop trying to conquer them. Over the years they became a part of the kingdom, but they keep their own royalty and are allowed to run their land whatever way they like as long as they don’t go too far off course.”
“And she’s the princess of one of these outlier places?”
“Exactly. She’s from a little one nestled in the mountains to the north. You see why that’s bad, don’t ya?”
“That’s where the Welgo’s come through.”
“‘Xactly. That little place—I forget the name now—sits right there. They’s the worst hit. Her parents are king and queen and they sent her here thinkin’ its safer. They have to fight all the time to keep the place theirs.”
Ackerley both felt both more sympathy for her and more intrigued. He thought he had it bad with his brother out fighting. Her parents were keeping their whole country from going up to heaven. She must be so lonely with only that witch of an attendant. She desperately needed someone
to talk to. There was no reason why it couldn’t be him. She most likely felt trapped. The same way he felt trapped at home without any friends or family. And the way he felt in that castle to a certain extent.
“You gonna get to it, or what?” Mr. Jett asked, a strange smile on his face.
Ackerley found himself staring whimsically at the spot where the princess had sat. The chair was still there. He snapped out of it and started sweeping again.
When the ballroom was spotless, and Mr. Jett went over every inch multiple times to make sure, they went back out and helped the three people on his staff finish up the halls and empty classrooms. At around three in the morning he was allowed to get to sleep.
The rest of the week passed without too much bother. He wasn’t the hero that Jarn made him out to be, but he also wasn’t laughed at. It seemed like everyone just forgot what happened that night altogether.
He was bored out of his mind for most the week and really wanted to wander around some. Calligraphy had been pretty bad. The teacher was an old woman named Ms. Henred. She was around the same age as that old man from the library, and she was equally disgusted at his handwriting. She set Ackerley in the hall and tried to train him. She didn’t see any improvement at the end of the two hours and made him come to her remedial handwriting class every day for third task. He was the only one there.
He never saw the man that made a fuss again, even when all the nobles were together. On Sunday morning, after a rather painful fancy dinner—the first with a
The Chellion Days Page 11