1,478Dracobolt: Thanks for being my first reviewer!
Lumanarann: Thank you! *dances around* Yay! You like it!
Anaesthesia: Thanks for the help. . .so glad someone's offering advice! I know, the arranged marriage plot is really overdone. . .bad, bad, me. Sorry about the author notes. Whoops. I'll remember that in the future. Yeah, it's taking place in a fantasy world. I put in the part about Egypt 'cause I'm weird and forgetful. . .-_- About how I'm putting more effort into the story than other people you've seen on the 'Net. . .actually, I typed it up in half an hour. I didn't really concentrate too hard on it. Hehehe. Don't tell! ^_^ (it was just a random idea I had at 11 o'clock last night. . .well, my life revolves around randomosity!)
Espers: Glad you like it! Very glad, in fact!
Well, THANK YOU ALL MY BEAUTIFUL REVIEWERS! Gives me a nice waffy feeling inside. . .*sniffle*
This multi-tasking thing is a little difficult. . .but hey, if I could do it in Grade Four, I can do it now! (That was when I first started writing; if you can call it that. Well, it was okay for a nine-year-old. And since then, my writing style has been the same: Write Down Whatever Comes To Mind. I don't do rough drafts. Much to the dismay of my evil English teacher who is attempting to squash every little bit of creativity in his students-not that I have anything AGAINST rough drafts. Just against my English teacher.)
Okay, Dizzy, chill with the babbling.
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My eye twitched again as I looked at the long line of females applying for the contest. This eye twitching thing was getting really annoying. First of all, Heroines' eyes just don't twitch. Second. . .well, it was just annoying.
Apparently, the organizers for this event didn't let people who weren't applying for entry to the contest to come within a 1000 meter radius, so I had said my goodbyes to Father and Milly. . .well, 1000 meters away. Yanick had come along too, mainly to drool at the other heroines in their skimpy outfits, but had left in disappointment when he realized the 1000 meter radius rule.
Taking a deep breath, I straightened my clothes and lined up behind a tall, slim young woman who looked about three years older than me; she seemed to be about 20 years old. Maybe I could make friends with her.
That idea was immediately squashed when, after I said hi, she turned around with an icy cold look in her pale blue eyes and looked at me as if I was a piece of dog poo on her shoe.
If looks could kill, I'd be saying "Hey" to the gods right now.
Luckily, they don't.
And when at last I got to the front of the line, I found myself face to face with the embodiment of gloom.
The lady had steel gray hair, a long, dour face, and icy blue eyes that peered at me over horn-rimmed spectacles. She reminded me of Jenny, an old woman back in town who I used to think was a witch. But she had turned out to be a very nice person who could make very good cookies.
Maybe the lady at the desk wasn't quite as stern as she looked.
"Hi!" I smiled at her.
Her expression didn't change. Well, actually, it did. There was a slight furrowing of her eyebrows, and her face got even longer-which I hadn't been quite sure was possible.
"Your name?" She said, monotonously.
Well, sue me for trying to be friendly.
"Oh, uh, Larayis Estarr."
She jotted something down, before asking dourly, "Are you good with weapons?"
Eek. "Well, uh, I-"
"That's good, Lady Estarr. Hand-to-hand combat?"
"Well, I can-"
"Wonderful." The lady didn't seem quite enthusiastic. "Etiquette?"
Oh, this was bad. This was probably the reason why it was going so quickly. I wasn't going to be accepted. "Etiquette?" I laughed nervously. "Oh, I-"
"That's absolutely superb." Still as dismal as ever. "Neie, get over here and examine her."
Yikes! I quickly backed away, laughing, "Oh, I don't think that's necessary. . ."
A matronly-looking lady bustled over with a big grin on her face. Oh no. Matronly ladies with big grins on their faces were bound to do something evil like dress you in big poofy dresses and say you look "Absolutely loooooovely, daaaaaaaaarling."
"Oh, nonsense, darling." She said. See? I was right. "It's perfectly fine."
I laughed nervously. "Oh, no need to examine me. You can see me right here. I'm medium to short height, and I think I have the appropriate figure for heroineism, and my hair is purple, and my eyes are amber, and, well, I'm not that attractive-"
"Absolute balderdash." Neie scoffed. Then she grabbed me and opened my mouth. "Hmm. . .nice teeth."
The Grim Lady wrote something down on her parchment.
Neie turned me around, and tightened my dress. Now, normally I HATE dresses, but I had wanted to make a good impression.
"Oof." I gasped. I felt like a horse.
"Waist is trim, breasts average size, hips also average." Neie said. The Grim Lady jotted something else down.
Then Neie (by this point, I had changed my mind about her being matronly) proceeded to lift up my skirt-probably to see 'if my legs were the right size.'
Too late. "Legs long and slender. Perfect." Neie said.
"HEY!" I yelled, jerking my skirt down. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
"Checking to see if your legs are the right size," Neie said, confused, as if it was perfectly normal to lift up the skirts of innocent people who haven't done anything to them like me to "see if their legs were the right size". Hello? I mean, I am NOT comfortable with strange women lifting up my skirts. Yet another good reason to wear pants.
"Well, GO CHECK SOMETHING ELSE." I yelled. Oops. Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say.
Neie beamed. Were they brainwashed or something? "Really? Good." She grabbed a handful of my purple hair and yanked it to her.
"OOOOOOWWWW!" I yelled.
"Hair is well-kept. Slightly abnormal color, and a little short. But otherwise, perfectly acceptable." Neie continued, cheerfully.
She grabbed my chin and pulled my face closer so she could "see better". "Eyes are beautiful. Skin is clear. Nose is also perfect. Lips also perfect."
These people were crazy. "What are you talking about?! I-am-not- attractive. Do I have to spell it for you?!" I yelled, wincing as she pulled my head lower so she could see my neck.
She frowned. "Slender neck. But a scar on the left side."
"Shape?" Grim Lady asked, humorlessly.
"A crescent-moon." Neie said, frowning.
"Hey! I got that scar from climbing a tree, thank you very much! Not MY fault that there was a sharp, pointy branch sticking out where it shouldn't!" I yelled. "Well, you know what? I QU-"
I was interrupted when Grim Lady said somberly, "She's in."
"WHAT?! But I was just-"
"Now, now, Lady Estarr, musn't keep the others waiting!" Neie chortled, and gently (or not-so-gently) pushed me over to where another crowd of about fifteen girls were standing.
"But-but-" I stammered. This was NOT working out as I had planned.
But by the end of the day (by which there was now a crowd of about fifty very beautiful girls), I had worked out a master plan. One that had no conceivable errors in it.
To pay off my father's debt (and avoid marrying Yanick) I would first win the contest. How? I didn't know. Okay, so there was one conceivable error in it. Next, I would somehow manage to get the Royal Family to pay off my father's debts. How? I also didn't know. Fine, there were two conceivable errors in it. Then I would run away without being caught and. . .do something. What? I still didn't know. Okay, so there were three conceivable errors in it. But I could work out those little glitches when I got to them.
It would work. It would. It had to. It would work.
Right?
Hey, I've never been good with long-term ideas.
"Girls!" Neie clapped her hands and beamed at us.
Every single one of the beautiful wannabe-heroines beamed back at her, showing off their perfect, straight smiles.
Except for me, that is. I really wasn't in the mood for beaming.
"Come, ladies, we shall now adjourn to the palace." Neie radiated with good- will. Somewhat of a pain, if you ask me. But I was the misfit heroine, and no one WAS asking me.
'Okay, shut up, Ray. You're drowning in self-pity,' I scolded myself. 'It could be worse. You might actually have to MEET the prince.'
I suddenly realized that all the beautiful heroines were squealing amongst each other and clasping their hands. Some had even fainted. Why they were so excited? I had no idea.
That's why eavesdropping was invented.
But the person who invented eavesdropping evidently wasn't surrounded by a crowd of beautiful, wannabe heroines who talked their mouths off, giggled in absurd quantities, and wore too much perfume.
"I can't believe-"
"Can you-"
"-faint with excitement!"
As it was, I only caught snatches of conversation, and was left in the dark.
Then, "We're going to meet the prince! Tomorrow!"
I've managed to jinx myself once again.
The whole carriage ride, while the other heroines in the carriage talked (and talked and talked and talked) about nothing but the prince, I stared out the window as a soft mist of rain fell.
I found myself wishing that I could be out in the rain, back in the town, with Mother, dancing like we used to. Dancing to the sound of wind-pipes floating across the hills while cool breaths of rain trickled down our cheeks and necks, stretching our hands to the deep blue evening sky and watching the first star come out.
Funny, that was my only memory of Mother, before she died when I was six.
'Enough dwelling on the past, Ray,' I said sternly to myself. 'Focus on the present. Focus on how to keep your ass out of trouble.'
"We're here!" Neie's annoyingly cheerful voice came through the window of the carriage. Gasping with excitement, the heroines piled out of the carriage I was in, while I slowly, wearily, and resentfully climbed out too.
So much for making friends.
I grabbed what little belongings I had brought with me, and followed the horde of girls flocking towards the castle gates-when I noticed the old driver of our particular carriage slowly and painfully carrying a whole bunch of packages and bags and boxes that apparently belonged to the other passengers.
Well, Father had always brought me up polite. Besides, the old guy should be enjoying retirement right now, not slaving after a bunch of inconsiderate wannabe-heroines.
"Here, let me help." I said, and grabbed the bags from him. Gods, I was pulling a fricking fairytale Cinderella act.
"Eh? No, no, my lady, you go on ahead with the other girls. This is my job." The hunched-over old man said, waving his hand dismissively and trying to reclaim the bags.
I laughed. "With them? You kidding me? They don't even like me. Besides, I do this kind of stuff all the time."
Which I did, if you count luggage of heroines and blacksmiths' big and heavy tools to be the same thing.
The old man peered at me through rheumy eyes, before nodding slowly and saying, "Thank you, my lady."
I laughed nervously, flapping my hand at him. "Oh, just call me Ray. It has less syllables."
At that, the old man broke into a smile that made him look twenty years younger (although, not to be mean, that wasn't saying much) and said, "Lady Ray."
I wrinkled my nose, instinctively. "Is everybody so damn formal around here?" If they were, there was no way I was passing the etiquette part of the heroine contest.
The old man chuckled. "Perhaps." He said, mysteriously.
Another thing. Castles are always so creepy and mysterious. I shuddered inwardly.
"So, where're these things going up to?" I grinned at the tiny old man.
"Oh, up to the rooms allocated to each heroine." The old man said, casually.
My jaw dropped open. "Are you serious? You mean, everybody gets their own set of ROOMS? Note the plural."
"But of course, my lady." The old man frowned at me, confused. "'Tis only proper befitting their station."
I didn't reply. Heroines could get mighty spoiled, living that way.
When we at last got to the rooms (after I had ooh-ed and ahh-ed over every single thing we passed on our way through the-seemingly empty-palace) I dumped everything in the big room the old man had been instructed to put the baggage in with a sigh of relief. What kind of stuff had those girls packed? Probably blocks of granite. To whack oncoming assassins and the like with.
Then, Neie came along, with a frown of disapproval on her face.
"Oh, hiya, Neie!" I said, grinning widely. Hopefully it would distract her from the old man, so he could get away without getting in trouble.
It didn't work.
"Lady Larayis! Where were you? I have been looking all over for you! And you! What are you doing? I demand that you take the contestants baggage and deliver it to them at once! The poor girls are so tired out." Neie sighed.
"Yes, my lady, at once, my lady." The old man bowed humbly, before straightening back up. At least, trying to straighten back up. He didn't quite manage to suppress the groan of pain.
I frowned. My dad had the same back problem, probably from bending over the blacksmith forge all day. "Hey!" I said, as Neie (or, LADY Neie) turned towards me with a sickly-sweet smile on her face. "Why don't you let him get a little rest? I mean, he. . .well, he's not as young as he was. If you're so set on someone doing it, why don't you get the heroines to come down and get it themselves?" I scowled at her, hands on hips, trying to make a threatening impression.
Unfortunately, Neie was about two heads taller than me, and considerably wider and stronger-looking. She looked at me in mild surprise and a look of scandalized shock on her face. "Why, Lady Larayis. Surely you know this servant's place in life? He is perfectly capable of doing it himself."
"Really, my lady, it's no bother." The old man addressed me, quietly.
Something inside of me snapped. I was so SICK of these presumptuous nobles deciding what people's "place in life" were to be. "Well, you know what?" I said, steaming. My face, at this point, was bright red with anger. NOT a pretty sight. "I'M going to deliver the baggage then. You go back home." I told the old man. "Please."
At this, Neie was obviously terrified with alarm. "No, no, Lady Larayis. If you're so determined, I INSIST that you go back to sleep. I shall get some other-younger-servant to do it."
Somehow, I sensed that I had better not push it. My eyes narrowed in frustration while I gritted, "Thank. . .you." Not. "Take care, um. . ."
"Donny Cravis." The old man supplied.
"Take care, Donny! I'll see you around!" I grinned at him, and, when Neie wasn't looking, gave him a thumbs-up.
And went to bed after my eyeballs popped out at the enormous size of the rooms I had been allocated.
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Donny's lips cracked into a smile. He hadn't smiled in a long time. But this heroine. . .this girl was different from all the others. She had a good chance of winning.
After all, he hadn't known Prince Ashenar all the young prince's life for nothing.
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From a window high up on the East side of the castle, a silver-haired young man pondered over what he had seen, purple eyes narrowed in concentration and interest.
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a/n: Hee hee! I really like writing this story so far. And I don't have writer's block for it! Yet, anyway. Purple eyes. . .sorry, I REALLY like purple eyes. Please review!