“I was mostly just trying to get whatever tiny knight that has crawled into my head to stop stabbing me between the eyes,” She said, rubbing her forehead. “But I won’t say no to company. What’s your name, mysterious falling stranger?”
“hah,” tamar huffed. “yeah, those knights can be real bastards.”
she should know, having been toe-to-toe with them in the
sparring ring for almost ten years now. “i’m tamar.” she sighed,
sprawling out in the shade on the grass. “and if anyone asks,
you didn’t meet me— i’m technically not supposed to be here.”
“Shit,” Musetta muttered under her breath. “Shit, shit, shit.” She wasn’t sure why, but she thought she was starting to see Chanson everywhere now. Damn him for having such a common face. She turns a corner and hides behind a busy shop to catch her breath, only once daring to look back and see if it really was Chanson following her. However, this time, it was just yet another land-folk who had an eerily similar face. She hides behind the shop and tries to relax a bit, taking deep breaths to slow her heart rate.
the feel of a desperate merchant’s leather beneath her
fingertips was briefly forgotten and she caught a flash
of bright hair, red hair, hair like hers. it was almost a
familiar face, tamar thought. pale skin, quick movements.
the fact that the figure darted around a corner a heartbeat
later made it all the more interesting.
abandoning the merchant she was trying to haggle with,
tamar made her way silently after the figure, threading
through the crowd like a needle. she peers around a
corner after a brief moment of tracking, taking in the
figure properly. they really did look oddly similar.
tamar raised a pear to her mouth, the crunch of a bite
announcing her presence. “you running from someone?”
she asked, her tone too-casual.
“i know!” she hissed, somehow high-pitched in her
panicked whisper. a glance around to see if anyone
had overheard them, and then a lower, calmer whisper.
“i know it’s treason.” her eyes did what she would
otherwise not: they begged him. “don’t repeat this
anywhere, lucien.” tamar sent a slow, careful look that
promised a slow, careful destruction if he ever loosened
his tongue too much. she too-casually shoved another
forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth, before finding
her appetite gone. collecting her plate, she mumbled,
“see you in the training ring,” around half a mouthful of
food. she left him sitting there, hoping the training ring
was further away than tomorrow.
He raised an eyebrow, interesting, very interesting. If he could just somehow convince her that she was on the wrong side by siding with the King, perhaps he could actually get her to join with the rebellion. Clearly she was less loyal then she let on. “Who’d I tell” he muttered, making a mental note of the situation. He wasn’t too worried about her threat though, even though it was silent. He was good at what he did, better then he let on. “See you” he replied, an unexpected turn of events, but one that was positive.
↬ What is your happiest memory?
she humms thoughtfully, pauses. “well...” she has to pause again, this time for longer. she has plenty of happy memories— the first time she laughed after her father’s disappearance, the first time she landed a blade on a target, the first time the blade stuck— lots of firsts were happy, she supposed. but a happiest memory? no one singular recollection sticks out to her. she shrugs. “i don’t think i could pick just one.”
↬ What is your most upsetting memory?
“i came home one day, and...and my mother was crumpled up on the floor. that was the day i found out my father wasn’t coming home.” she bites her lips after that, and though her eyes are dry, her brows drawn down and her hands form into fists. it seems to be all she’s going to say.
↬ What is your greatest virtue?
“i...suppose i’m doing alright with being on my own. being independent. it’s not hard.” she would have liked to say loyalty, or ambition, something befitting a guard— future guard, anyways. but that was the first thing that came to mind, it was what she had before the guards, and she had a gut feeling that it would be with her afterwards, even if she never became a knight.
↬ What is your greatest flaw?
no one likes to think they have flaws. this is the question her mind stumbles on, one she doesn’t have a ready answer to. she has to think; she can’t decide. she supposes that will do: the fact that she can’t decide. “indecisiveness,” she says decidedly.
↬ How do you fall asleep?
“that’s...an odd question. i mean, it’s the same thing every night: wash up, pajamas, curl up— specifically on my left side, back to the wall, one pillow...and then it’s lights-out. i tend to sleep like a log.”
↬ How do you wake up?
“early, with panic.” if she’s not in the ring an hour after sunrise, her aunt makes her run extra laps. tamar has short legs; she’s no runner. and running is mind-numbingly boring.
↬ Do you prefer the moon, sun, or stars?
“sun. always the sun.” in moments of peace, tamar could be found lounging in the sun on top of the highest tower she can find. bare feet, sleeves shoved up hurriedly in order to expose as much skin as possible, as soon as possible. she didn’t want to miss a second of sun. summer was best, of course, but when it was winter and clouds practically lived in the sky, she would take even a moment of sun in the cold.
↬ What is your favorite season?
“there’s nothing better than summer.” she can go barefoot without worry, toes buried in the grass. granted, with all the scraps she got into she always came away with grass stains, but laundry was something for maids to deal with. “and the rains are the softest in summer.”
↬ When you are in trouble, who is the first person you go to?
“my aunt, i suppose. it’s always been my aunt, since...well, since i was a little kid.” a nonchalant shrug, then a cold shoulder. that’s all you’re going to get out of her for that.
↬ Do you prefer dawn or dusk?
“does it matter? i’m up for both anyways.” early morning training with her aunt had reset her internal clock to wake up early, and far too often she was awake past sunset, despite her body not approving.
↬ Do you think you’ll have children one day?
“no. absolutely not.” her answer had come to her when she was twelve years old, with far too many layers to peel away right now. “mentor maybe—” as her aunt had been to her, maybe she could be to another— “but mother, never.”
↬ Have you ever been in love?
“all the time, every day. i fall frequently, and by now i know how to land on my feet when i do.”
↬ Who is the person you look up to the most?
this one, she doesn’t have to think about. it’s a no brainer: “my aunt!” there are other guards she could list: quen in the archer’s range, who was the best person in her squad, in character and on the field. there was also bron, who was the only person who hit faster than she did and who taught her how to throw an upperhook. but her aunt was always the first answer to that question.
↬ What do you think is the difference between good and evil?
this one’s easy, too easy. “one justifies the means to the end, the other cares about the means to the end.”
“Yes, but can so can not knowing how to wield a weapon” that he had seen before. It was frightening really, but there was nothing he could do or say about that either.
He was silent as she spoke, letting her air her grievances about the other man. He was probably the safest person to say it to, as he had no intentions of repeating it to anyone. Couldn’t like everyone in this world after all, that would be near impossible with the events taking place at all times. “The reason, is that no one can beat him when it comes to weapons” he had watched people try. It was entertaining how unsuccessful they normally were. “Perhaps not, but acting on it… even saying that, can be classed as treason” oh that was hypocritical and he knew it.
“i know!” she hissed, somehow high-pitched in her
panicked whisper. a glance around to see if anyone
had overheard them, and then a lower, calmer whisper.
“i know it’s treason.” her eyes did what she would
otherwise not: they begged him. “don’t repeat this
anywhere, lucien.” tamar sent a slow, careful look that
promised a slow, careful destruction if he ever loosened
his tongue too much. she too-casually shoved another
forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth, before finding
her appetite gone. collecting her plate, she mumbled,
“see you in the training ring,” around half a mouthful of
food. she left him sitting there, hoping the training ring
was further away than tomorrow.
“Oof.” As Tamar kicked up her leg, Fiona reached down and gave it a little squeeze, for no other reason than it was there and she was looking at it. “I would die for those shoes. Great choice.”
Fiona practically jumped out of her own shoes when food was held in front of her. She went right for the bite, giving no concern for Tamar’s fingers in the process.
“Tipsy-toes,” she mumbled as she chewed. “That’s fucking brilliant.”
tamar popped the second tidbit of food into her mouth,
tasting the spices and the textures, pressing it to the
roof of her mouth to savour it before swallowing it down
and forlornly watching the plate it came from drift away.
she shrugged. “i’m no poet, but i suppose my audience
isn’t in any real place to judge right now,” tamar said flippantly.
Now that she wasn’t throwing anything at him, Will was able to get a better look at his attacker. She certainly seemed more experienced in fighting than him, what with how ready she seemed to charge. Who exactly did she think he was? An assassin? He almost snorted out loud at the thought; as if he could ever be anything that sneaky or subtle. Not to mention the whole killing aspect.
He raised an eyebrow at her callous tone, even as she apologized soon after. “Didn’t realize I was near your target, sorry. Or do you normally try and take people down with your shoes? Seems like an awfully cruel thing to subject your heels to.” The question aimed his way gave Will pause, however, and he stopped the teasing, glancing back at the palace’s raucous party. “Yeah. Um, I needed some air.” He didn’t mention the fact that he hadn’t intended to run into anyone, let alone talk to them. Especially not when Thea was still out there, doing who even knew what.
she knew she shouldn’t be getting cocky, but her posture
betrayed her thoughts and better judgement. this boy was
skittish and too nervous to put all his sharp, boyish angles
to any sort of use. she shifted her weight from one foot to
the other, gently swaying back and forth. “i suppose i can
make anything into a weapon if i try hard enough,” she mused.
she didn’t miss the backwards glance he shot the main building.
“not used to the palace, huh?” tamar prompted. “are you from
one of the towns? or a village in the woodland?” he wasn’t that
much of a threat— tamar supposed she could stop looking at
him like he was one— but her gut told her there was just
something off about this boy. and her gut intuition was never
wrong. “or somewhere further...?”
Cilla laughed, propping herself up slightly to get a better look at the stranger. “What, are you falling for me already?” She asked, grinning at her own stupid joke. “If you make it a habit, I fear you’ll get all bruised up. Falling for pretty girls constantly can do that to you.” Cilla said with a wink. “Even if it was just a joke.” She flopped back down in the grass, snuggling into the warmth of the sunshine.
tamar rolled onto her back, sighed softly. she let the
cadence of the other girl’s voice roll over her. she
could probably just lie here for the rest of the day,
avoiding the clamour and shriek of steel that her
place in the palace held.
“i don’t suppose you’re looking for any sort of company?”
tamar asked. “or should i be on my way and hope that i
watch where i put my feet with more grace?”
All are welcome, the rumors told, humming over Wonderland with news of the King’s birthday celebration. It seemed an appropriate time to test how welcoming the Crimson bastard could be. Aisling had skipped last year, and the year before that, and the year before that as well, but this year she intended to scope out the battle grounds before starting a war.
The advantage of a crowd was that sound constantly bounced off walls, providing a flawless aural map of the palace. The disadvantage was the sensory overload and the ringing in Aisling’s ears from the chatter, the clinking of glasses, the prancing of footsteps, and the throbbing of heartbeats. Her hearing was adept enough to hear the pulse of the guard standing several feet to her right. He was nervous, probably scanning the crowd for potential threats. After all, a rebellion was brewing. With any luck, an assassin would dispose of the King tonight.
“Excuse me,” Aisling whispered to the person on her left. “This crowd is unbearable, and the hall is barely wide enough to fit all of the King’s admirers. Is there a place where I could get some air?”
tamar had stomped off to the edge of the finely-decorated room,
fancy glass of whatever in her hand. it’s not that she minded that
the food was free, that there were people everywhere— she lived
for the energy of a crowd. but all the trimmings and trappings of a
royal court set her on edge.
a voice over her shoulder, pitched at a whisper, nearly made tamar
jump. her startled expression melted away as she processed what
had just been asked. she snorted, glad to have an excuse to get
away from it all. she snorted; she knew the palace like the back of
her hand. most of it, anyways. she did know enough to get out, though.
“hell yeah,” she stage-whispered. without waiting for permission, she
snagged the stranger’s hand, gently pulling them away from the crowd.
“come with me,” she murmured.
Willem was starting to despair. He hadn’t caught sight of his sister and he’d been wandering around the festivities for nearly forty minutes. Shouldering his way around the crowd was growing tiresome, not mention the way his anxiety was shooting through the roof thanks to the combination of the close proximity and paranoia. If he was braver, he might have snatched up a drink.
As it was, he managed to push his way out into the gardens, heaving a deep sigh as he leaned against the nearest wall. He barely had a moment to breathe before he realized he wasn’t alone, eyes widening at the heels flying past his head over a hedge. “Whoa!” Will glanced back, jaw dropping. “Watch where you’re throwing those!”
tamar was on her feet in an instant, hands raised and feet spread
as if to take on a charging foe, or at least another guard in the
training ring. she didn’t have night vision, but from what she could
see, all she faced was a scrawny, fresh-faced boy, seeming a year
or two younger than her. but perhaps that was just the bad lighting,
or the nervous wide-eyed look he had in his eyes. it was almost
comical, she thought to herself.
her shoulders relaxing, her hands dropping, tamar straightened,
though her feet remained planted and knees slightly bent. “maybe
you should watch where you’re standing,” she snapped.
then she sighed. “sorry. knee-jerk reaction.” her aunt had taught her
better, that she needed to be aware of her surroundings at all times.
her chin nodded in the direction of the party. “too much going on in
there for you?”
Sober Fiona might have played into Tamar’s little sweet act, but drunk Fiona was in a mood and looked right past it. She patted the girl’s hand and spoke as if being the utmost sincere.
“Bitch, you always slow me down… But fine. I’ll tol-erate it.”
tamar had to giggle— or maybe it came out more of
a snicker. she gave fiona’s arm a slight squeeze,
letting her know that she knew exactly what she meant.
“well, if it’s my short legs slowing you down, you don’t
have to worry about it tonight— see?” tamar kicked up
a foot, showing off her fancy, blocky heels. “not-so-short
legs anymore.”
a passing tray of hors d’oeuvres passed by, and tamar
snagged two little...somethings off the tray. “open up,
tipsy-toes,” she commanded, waving the tidbit in front
of fiona’s face. “let’s not waste free food.”
Only a second or two after Tamar mentioned it, the wind blew that very familiar scent right past her nose as well. She inhaled deeply and her nervous smile was replaced with a much more genuine variation.
“Yes, it should be the next corner then…”
She quickened her pace just enough to reach the corner before her new acquaintance, peeking down the right to confirm. Then she spun back to face the girl, clasping her hands excitedly in front of her.
“Here we are!”
tamar grinned, while her stomach growled in approval and
demanded an end to her wait. she broke into a jog, eager
to scramble around the corner to put an end to her small
quest. she almost skidded around the corner, heedless of
the people around her, but at the last second pivoted and
threw her arms around paige’s shoulders, if only briefly.
then she was gone again, waving and calling a brief and
fading, “thank you!”
Fiona looked between Tamar’s arm and then back to her face a good few times before she straightened up, pretended to dust herself off, and shrugged.
“Nobody said I was going to have to do fucking math here, alright? I’m good… I’m good. You’re good. We’re all good. Just… Shh….”
this time, tamar stifled her cackle, sucking on a tooth but
smirking all the same. tucking her own hand around fiona’s
elbow ( like a gentleman and his lady might ) tamar graciously
let the moments past slide. no harm done— yet, anyways.
“mind having me along for a few minutes, or am i only going to
slow you down?” she cooed, batting her lashes up at fiona playfully.
Paige was intrigued the more this girl spoke. She clearly didn’t come to Fairtown much, which meant she couldn’t be from the Woodland… There were so many possibilities, and Paige was eager to learn, but she seemed to have half a foot stuck in her mouth.
“Oh yes, um, sorry, no. I mean, I work around here. I’m from a little north of here, though,” she answered with a smile. “And I’m sure there are plenty of secrets… But I promise I’m only still discovering them.”
tamar had to wonder— was paige usually so contrary?
did she always trip over herself? tamar privately admitted
that it was rather endearing, looking over at the blonde
as if she was some kind of puzzle to sort out.
her nose soon distracted her eyes, though, as she inhaled
deeply. her mouth watered, almost tasting what she could
smell. “can you smell that, or am i hallucinating?” tamar’s
eyes searched and scanned, hoping for a glimpse of the
elusive scent. “is that the baker? damn, i’m starving.”
A cackle left her lips as she held up her cocktail, tapping the glass to her temple in a knowing gesture and possibly a toast? She grabbed the girl’s arm with her other hand to keep herself upright as challenged the girl’s words.
“Bitch, please. Are you trying to tell me you’re not triplets?”
tamar snorted, hardly believing her good luck.
she was stone-cold sober, and this was going
to be, altogether, far too much fun. not to mention
the blackmail material she could tease fiona with
for at least a month. she patted the hand clamped
at her bicep, her tone nearly condescending. “you’re
only holding one arm, love, not three.”
“you need your eyes checked, babe—
there’s only one of me.” a brow arched over
tamar’s near-impossibly green eyes. “unless
you’ve had more than enough to drink?”
