by Casey Odell
“That is true, my lady.”
A few dances and drinks later, Claire collapsed onto a chair by one of the tables, giggling uncontrollably. Drunkenness had finally caught up to her. Aeron caught her as she started to lean to one side and almost fell out of the chair, which only made her laugh even more. The elf had taught her a different, faster variation of the waltzing dance that made the room spin in a mish mash of colors. The second she sat down, the throbbing in her feet began. She had so much fun dancing her mind ignored the blisters forming on her feet. The alcohol may have helped as well.
Claire stopped giggling for a second as she reached out to a glass set atop the table. Half empty and abandoned, she didn’t know whose it was, but didn’t care either.
Aeron snatched the drink from her hands just as she was about to take a sip. “I think you have had enough of this, my lady.” He set the glass down on the table out of her reach. “Let us say we call it a night.” He stood next to the chair, keeping a hand on her shoulder.
“But we’re having so much fun,” she pouted like a child. She didn’t want to leave the ball. Not yet. She had dreamed of this very thing her whole life-- who knew if she would ever have the chance again?
“I am afraid my lady cannot even stand on her own right now.” He glanced around the room, no doubt looking for their companion.
“Am I embarrassing you?” She brushed his hand off her shoulder.
Aeron leaned in close with his hand on the back of the chair. “A lady always knows her limit. I think we should leave now before you blow our whole cover.” His eyes narrowed and the smile vanished, his words harsh and sharp.
A lump rose in her throat, the kind that was inevitably followed by tears. She swallowed hard and tried her best to keep a strong face. He’d been happy just a moment before. The fact that he could change his emotions so fast frightened her a little. She remembered Farron’s words from the other night. She was beginning to see the side of Aeron that may have raised him to a position of power.
“Now, stay put while I find our other guardian.” The smile returned in full force as he straightened up.
The incident sobered her up a little. Fear can do that to a person, even a drunken one. She watched as he disappeared into the elegant crowd. A sense of shame overwhelmed her, sinking to the pit of her stomach. Maybe he was right to get upset with her. The charade was not a game, nor was it as fun as she’d thought it would be. It was downright exhausting pretending to be someone she wasn’t, especially from a different social class she hardly knew anything about. If anyone were to find out who they really were, the repercussions could be great, deadly even. She shuddered at the thought.
She covered her face with her hand as she fought the sting in her eyes, while the other balled itself into the soft material of her skirt. She took a deep breath. Then another. And another, until the lump in her throat subsided. Glancing to either side, she gripped the edge of the table and hoisted herself up onto blistered, unsteady feet. She wasn’t sure where their inn was, but she didn’t feel like staying to suffer the wrath of Aeron either. With her head held high, she walked through the crowd to the set of stairs she’d entered on. She’d descended a curious, excited girl with her dream come to life. Now she climbed as a woman in defeat. The realities of her life were just too different from the shining one behind her.
Each step was a mountain to her aching feet. A hiss of air escaped between clenched teeth each time she stepped down. Her right hand gripped the stone banister and held on for dear life while the other held the voluminous skirts up and out of the way. Tripping down the stairs wouldn’t be the best way to end such a beautiful night. The corset had become unbearably tight and she felt like she was going to suffocate. How did these women survive? Perhaps they were used to the torture. Claire finally reached the top of the stairs, a triumphant victory in her book. She glanced back at the ballroom to take in the scene one last time, then limped through the entranceway, steadying herself with a hand against the wall.
The older gentleman from before pulled the thick red curtain back and bowed silently as she came through. She curtsied back, her knees shaking from the effort. A hiccup burst through her lips, surprising both her and the older man. Her cheeks flushed as she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. Embarrassed, she turned and walked to the railing across from them, and leaned on it with both hands. The room spun around her, images blurring if she moved her head too fast. She gripped the railing and placed one foot in front of the other towards the next set of stairs. This time going down. She crossed her fingers and hoped that she wouldn’t have a twisted ankle in the morning.
She’d managed to make it halfway down when a voice rang out from behind her. “It’s rude to leave without telling anyone, you know.”
Claire glanced back over her shoulder. Farron stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed as he looked down at her in disapproval.
“Add it to my list of faults.” She turned back to her task and gathered her skirts in her hand. She already had one disappointed elf, might as well add the other while she was at it.
The night was spiraling down faster than a depressed drunk on a binge. The comfort of a warm bed called out to her. Even more, she wished for solitude. And for the spinning to stop. She closed her eyes as she waited for the world around her to stop whirling and the nausea in her stomach to ease.
An arm snaked across her shoulders before her feet were suddenly swept out from under her. She gasped in surprise as Farron swiftly picked her up off the stairs in one smooth motion.
“What are you doing?” Her voice was shrill as the world spun wildly around her. The nausea in her stomach returned in full force and she clamped her eyes closed again.
“Assisting you with stairs. It was part of our agreement, if you remember. In exchange for your silence.”
She couldn’t see it, but she knew the grin was there. She gripped his shoulder, her fingers digging into the soft material of his jacket. “I think I’m going to be sick. Please put me down.” He started to descend the stairs. Each step down felt like a free fall down the side of a cliff.
“You are a lightweight for a bar maid, surprisingly.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder and kept her eyes tightly shut. She didn’t have the will or the energy to argue with him at the moment. He carried her through the palace in silence, his footsteps clicking loudly through the halls. The music from the ball faded away into the distance and left only faint traces of the melody to float through the corridors to tease the ear before it was gone. Her grip on his jacket relaxed as she reveled in it. The throbbing in her head eased to a steady ache.
“I think he hates me,” she blurted out in a weak voice.
“And whom are we speaking of?”
“Aeron.”
“You act like that is a bad thing.”
She remained quiet, wishing to hear more comforting words.
After a few steps, Farron took a deep breath. “He doesn’t hate you. He’s just scared.” He paused before he continued in a soft voice, “We’re not exactly in friendly territory. Even you would have to know what would happen if we were found out.”
Claire didn’t say anything. What could she say? His words had been somewhat comforting, but proved all the more reason for Aeron’s anxiety.
It felt like they had reached another set of stairs, and the elf descended them carefully at a slow pace to help reduce the impact. Cool air nipped at her. The sensation wonderful and wholly welcome as her body burned from the alcohol and caused a thin layer of sweat to break out across her skin. She could hear the carriages and the noise from the city in the distance: hooves on stone, the occasional shout, music from a distant tavern. The ambiance of human life.
“Excuse me, sir!” shouted a heavily accented male voice at the top of the stairs.
Farron stopped and she could feel him turn to look. Claire finally gathered the courage to open her eyes and peered over Farron’s shoulder to the man standing atop
the stairs. They stood outside under the main entrance they had arrived through earlier that day. The great curved archway, carved from a single block of white stone, had shone blindingly white in the afternoon sun. Now it was cast in an orange flickering glow by rows of torches that lined the stairs.
“Do not worry, we are only borrowing them,” Farron told the man. “You still have our belongings, remember?” He turned and started to descend the stairs again. “You will get them in the morning.”
A carriage pulled up to the bottom of the stairs. Simple and white with only one long seat behind the driver, it still seemed too fancy for her. She’d only ever ridden in a friend’s carriage, never in one for her own use.
“Please put me down now. This is getting rather embarrassing,” she whispered to the elf. He set her down carefully; her hand gripped his sleeve as she steadied herself in the heels. She started to climb up into the carriage, but stopped halfway and turned back to Farron, “Shouldn’t we wait for Aeron?”
He just smirked and helped her into the carriage.
She plopped down on the plush bench seat and scooted to the other end. The soft red velvet felt similar to her dress. She leaned her head back against the rail and closed her eyes.
“Come on, my lady.” Farron shook her by the shoulder lightly.
Claire opened her eyes in a daze. She didn’t remember dozing off. The carriage stopped in front of their inn and she could hear the muffled noise of the crowd and music from inside the tavern. She looked down at her dress. They were sure to be noticed in their fancy attire. Her shoulders slumped; she didn’t want to face yet another embarrassing event this evening.
Farron stood outside the carriage and held the miniature door open. He started to pull on her hands in an effort to get her up. “I’m sure this fine gentleman would like to go home sometime this evening.”
Claire looked up at the driver. The middle-aged man simply tipped his hat to her and turned back around in his seat. She sighed and stepped out of the carriage. Farron closed the door behind her and the carriage took off down the street, the horse’s hooves echoing off the cobblestone before they turned around the corner.
She stood unmoving in front of the bustling inn. “Do you think they have a back door?”
“Not embarrassed, are we?”
She raised her chin at him. “Of course not.”
Farron opened the door to the tavern, blasting them with the loud boisterous noise from inside, so different from the music she had heard earlier in the evening.
“After you.” He bowed and motioned with his hand.
“Thank you, kind sir.” She gave a brief curtsy before she strode into the room. Curious eyes turned to look at her one by one.
Keeping her stride, she walked quickly to the stairs with her head held high and proud. She gripped the railing to the stairs and looked up. They seemed to be twice as tall as she remembered. She took a deep breath and managed to climb the first step. Her feet cried out in pain. One step down, a mountain more to go.
“Would you like my assistance?” Farron leaned casually against the railing on the other side, down on the level floor.
“I can do it myself.” She glanced out into the tavern. A handful of people watched them. She climbed another step and winced. See, she could do it. It would just take her awhile.
“This is painful to watch.” He stepped on the bottom step.
Claire whirled around. “No one told you to watch!”
He smiled up at her before he charged up the stairs towards her, grabbed her legs and threw her over his shoulder.
Claire shrieked in surprise. “What are you doing? Put me down this instant!” Scattered claps and whistles rose from the crowd in the tavern. Heat rose to the surface of her entire body. This was exactly the kind of embarrassing thing she wanted to avoid.
He bounded up the steps and through the hall, all while she pleaded with him, balling her fists up to beat on his back. Neither seemed to break his stride. He stood in front of her door and dug a key out of his jacket. It sure was comforting to know he had a spare to her room. He kicked the door open and threw her onto the tiny bed, the metal frame squealing under the stress.
Farron stood at the foot of the bed and dusted his hands off. “My job here is done.”
“You’re evil!” Claire shouted as she turned away from him to face the wall. “I’ve never felt so humiliated!” She covered her head with a pillow and buried her face in the scratchy sheets.
“And you’re stubborn,” he countered. “In all fairness, it would have taken you all night.”
“Please just go away.” Her head seemed to spin even more lying down. All she wanted to do was to go to sleep and forget this night ever happened. Well, the latter part of it anyway.
The door clicked closed, and then it was silent. After a moment, she lifted her head from beneath the pillow and looked around the room, now elf free. The bedside oil lamp had been lit. The inn staff must have done that. She turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. A twinge of regret stung her in the chest. Farron had been nothing but nice to her this evening, in his own way. She would have to apologize to him in the morning. Her heavy eyelids slowly slid closed and she dozed off.
A sudden light tap on the door lassoed her consciousness back to the surface. What now?
“May I come in?”
Just the elf. Her shoulders relaxed a little. She wondered for a brief second when they went tense. “Yes.” She rolled over to face the door, grabbed the other pillow and hugged it close to her chest.
Farron entered with a cup in his hand and set it down on the table by the bed. Claire peered up at him, the lower half of her face buried in the pillow. He seemed to avoid her gaze. Was he mad at her? He’d every right to be.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was muffled by the pillow. “I know you were just trying to help.”
A slight smile tugged at his mouth and he turned to leave. “No need. I do tend to get a little impatient.”
A surge of sadness swept over her. For some reason the sight of his back to her dug up a feeling of loneliness deep in her chest. There was no one left for her to go home to. No one she could share her feelings with or tell the excitements of her day to. She felt utterly alone at that moment and for some reason, his quiet presence had become soothing to her. When he wasn’t being arrogant, that is.
“Stay,” she muttered, tears teetering on the edge. Farron looked back over his shoulder with a look of surprise. “Just for a little bit.”
He closed the door to the room and sat at the foot of the bed, wisely not saying a word. The bed squeaked ever so slightly as he leaned back on his hands. His gaze drifted down to his boots stretched out before him.
“Did you have fun tonight?” she finally asked to break the silence.
“Yes, and yourself?”
“I found it exhausting.”
“I thought you would have liked playing the part.” He turned to face her, curling a leg up on the bed.
“I did. But you know what I found out?”
He raised an eyebrow in question.
“Being a lady is actually quite painful.”
Farron chuckled, then slipped one of her shoes off and threw it behind him where it landed on the wooden floorboards with a loud thud. Claire winced as he grabbed her stockinged foot. He began to feel around, prodding with his fingers, as he checked for bumps or sprains like a doctor.
“I think you’re going to have to get used to it,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“It looks like we’ll have to keep this farce going for a little while longer.”
Her foot jerked out of his grasp. “Ouch! Watch it!” He’d found a sweet spot. “Will you just spit it out already?” She didn’t feel like playing these games tonight.
He removed the other shoe and threw it behind him to join the other on the floor. “The General will be joining us on our journey.”
Claire sat up straight, her eyes wide. “What did
you just say?”
“I received an offer while you were dancing with that fool. The General wants us to take him to Rodem.”
“What? Why? And you said yes?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “The money was good.”
“Doesn’t that seem a little suspicious to you?”
“Of course it does.”
“Does Aeron know?”
“He will.”
Claire laid back on the bed, her hands covered her face. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”
“You wouldn’t be the only one.”
“Then why did you agree?”
Farron sighed. “It’s not like I had much of a choice. I’m sure he would have come one way or another. At least this way we can keep a close eye on him.”
“Keep your enemies closer?”
“Exactly.”
“And why are you just telling me this now?” She rubbed her eyes. The headache was starting all over again.
“I figured you’d find out soon enough.” He paused. “We leave in the morning.”
“Tomorrow?” She sat up again and met the elf’s gaze. “But what about my mother? You heard what that man said. There are others in this town.” She pointed towards the tiny window and could feel the heat rise up to her skin.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to put that on hold for the time being.”
Claire bristled with rage. She yanked her foot out of his grasp and sat up on her knees in front of him. “We had a deal. How do you expect me to just abandon my search?” She crossed her arms. “I refuse. The only reason I signed up for this little adventure was so I can find my mother.” She glared at the elf, her brow furrowed furiously. “And I’m not going anywhere until I do.”
“We can’t let you do that.” His eyes pierced hers. A hint of anger burned deep in the icy blue depths, yet his voice and manner remained calm and in control.
“We’ll see about that.” She stared back.
“And so what are you going to do? Stay here in this town all by yourself, following a lead you got from some crazy man in the streets? With no money or a place to stay on top of that? We don’t know anything yet and we’ve already got that damn General sniffing around our heels.” His voice began to rise. It was the first time she’d seen him genuinely upset. “You’re our responsibility, whether you like it or not. We already stuck our necks out and risked coming here for you. I think it’s time you grew up and stepped out into the real world. Sometimes things don’t always go the way they’re planned.”