“I fuckin’ hate this city.” Donough growled as he flicked the ash from his cigar onto the ground.

The stateroom bustled with conversation as the nobles from the earlier meeting gossiped amongst themselves about the Princess’ return. It was as if the demise of half their kingdom was neither imminent nor of any consequence. Aichlan still could not wrap his head around the fact that she was Royalty. While admittedly, there had not been much contact between them, he could not get rid of his image of her as a young stow-away. Saying nothing of the fact that he was still fuming over the cowardly lord’s insults from earlier in the day.

Aichlan grunted in agreement and leaned back in his chair, across from him; Eth tossed back a glass of wine and sloppily sloshed a refill into the cup and on the end table. The events of the small council and subsequent unfinished business of duels had left them all mentally exhausted and with proverbial blue balls.

“The people ‘ere are too soft,” Donough continued, jabbing his cigar into the air for emphasis. “too caught up in the scent o’ their own arse wind.”

Aichlan stared silently into his glass of brandy, watching impassively as the ice cracked and shrank in the amber liquid. While he could not find fault with the Colonels observations, agreeing with him would not have accomplished anything either. Donough leaned forward and jabbed a cracker into a wedge of soft cheese arranged on a serving platter.

“We’ve got war oon the horizon,” he said through mouthfuls “and they wanna throw a damn party!”

Aichlan took a drink from his glass before setting it down on a nearby end table. “We just need to put up with it for a bit longer.”

Aichlan reached into his coat, pulled out a cigar, and patted his pockets in search of a match before Donough beckoned him closer. The elf lit it with a snap of his fingers, and Aichlan nodded his thanks before reclining back with a groan.

“We’d get nowhere without their support.” Aichlan said after several silent moments.

Donough rolled his eyes and shifted in his seat. “Fine.” He took a deep drag from his cigar and exhaled a large cloud of violet smoke as he spoke. “But am nae be goin’ tae any stinkin’ balls.

Aichlan shrugged and took a drag from his own cigar. He honestly did not want to go either, and expected Eth would likely find some way to worm out of it as well. Ashe seemed more inclined to those sorts of functions however, so it would not be all bad so long as she was with him.

A fresh scowl across Donough’s face caught his attention, and he craned about to see a young handmaiden scamper over. Her ostentatious garb in concert with her very common bearing and face immediately identified her as the servant to new money. Aichlan sat back again and took up his brandy, whoever the woman was, she could not do anything for him, at least, not in Marquez.

Donough raised a quizzical eyebrow as the woman took up position directly in front of him. “Can I help ye?”

Unperturbed by his gruff response, she thrust out an envelope to him with a smile. He returned her smile with a look of disgust and annoyance as he took a hit from his cigar, blowing a cloud of smoke in her direction. She pursed her lips together and set the table before him, the look in her eyes was that of a woman used to such abuses. Donough’s expression suddenly softened and he put out his cigar as he reached for the envelope.

“What the fook is this then?”

“The lady Aimée Bernadette Cendrillion, Countess of Ward eight,” She handed Donough a small plate of cheese, crackers and apple slices, “requests you escort her to tonight’s ball.”

“Yeah?” Donough took the plate as he crumpled up the invitation, opening his palm to let the ashes fall to the floor.

“And why the fook would she wanna take him?” Eth added.

Before Donough could retort, the woman directed Donough’s gaze to a fair skinned and voluptuous brunette across the room. She briefly broke her gaze from her friends to smile coyly in his direction. Donough sheepishly waved back, causing her and her entourage to erupt into a fit of giggles. Aichlan glanced back just as she was leaving, and glimpsed an elaborately dressed woman who looked to be smuggling two cantaloupes under her skirt. He turned back around with a stupid grin, Eth had perked up as well, and Donough’s stoicism had now fully cracked.

“The lady Cendrillion comes from a long line of respected bankers.” The woman said before turning to address Eth. “As for her interest in Marquis Stone-Wood, the lady has always been infatuated by strong men of a darker complexion, and she believes him to have the most beautiful eyes.”

“Me eyes?” Donough asked incredulously.

“Yes,” The servant girl smiled, “they are a lovely shade of hazel that suits you quite well.”

He bowed his head with a hangdog smile, and tried to hide the ashes of the disintegrated letter with his foot.

“So, how…how do I…uh…”

“Rsvp?” she asked.

“Aye, that.”

She smiled again and curtsied. “You already have.”

“Do I need tae do anythin’ else?”

“Lady Cendrillion has expressed a desire to dress in the style of your people. If it is possible, she requests that you send her appropriate attire. Her measurements were enclosed in the invitation…”

“I am certain that Fiora has something she picked up in Eefrit.” Aichlan interrupted. “Please relay this to your Lady. However, it might also be prudent to remind her that the Colby-Nau originate from a far warmer clime than is found in Duvachellé.”

The woman curtsied again and scampered off in the same manner she arrived.

Eth grinned toothily and leaned in close, nudging Donough with his elbow. “Thought ye was nae goin’ tae nae stinkin’ balls.”

Donough cleared his throat and shoved back at Eth with his forearm. “Well, it’s a good way to endear ourselves tae them I s’posse, I mean, ye heard the Gen’ral, we cannae do this withoot them.”

“So, in other words, you’re just doing your job then?” Aichlan grinned broadly as he lifted the brandy snifter to his lips.

Donough nodded hastily, avoiding eye contact. “Ye could say that, it’s in service tae oor cause.”

Eth guffawed and kicked his feet up on the small table between them. “Aye lad, the cause.”

Aichlan laughed aloud, much to Donough’s irritation.

“What’s so funny then?” Donough demanded.

“Ye are, ya dolt.” Eth said as he poured himself a third glass of wine. “But we daen’t blame ye lad, a bum like that’d make me flip script as well.”

“It’s nae about her bum!” Donough said emphatically as he relit his cigar. “What d’ye take me fer?”

“I dunno Donough;” Aichlan said, his eyes smiling as he took a sip of brandy, “it’s a lot to handle. Think you’re up to it?”

“Now daen’t ye kick oof as well general.” Donough warned with a trembling finger, and took a puff from his cigar. “And I can handle an arse, believe ye me.”

“Ye would nae know what tae do with yerself!” Eth chuckled. “That arse’ll chew ye up an spit ye out, ye’ll be lucky for two and a half pumps before it sucks yer soul through yer head.”

“Two pumps,” Donough laughed incredulously, “ye done lost yer mind lad. And ye think ye’ll have enough plow tae till her soil then?”

“Psshh. Of course, we miners are known fer goin’ deep.” Eth said through a toothy grin and emphatic pumping of his arm.

Aichlan chuckled and finished the last of his brandy. It was funny how no matter where he went, or whom he was with, if it was a group of men, the conversations always either started or ended in the same way.

“What about ye then general?” Eth asked after polishing off the last of the wine. “Ashe has nae kicked ye tae the curb yet, so I assume yer doin somethin’ right, eh?”

“Cuz he got her pregnant.” Donough snorted.

Eth slapped his knee and pumped his fist in the air. “Oi, Oi, Oi! Them be fightin’ words if I e’er heard!”

Aichlan took a hit from his cigar, and held his glass up for a refill. “I’ll chalk your comment up to ignorance, but do not allow it to happen again.”

Donough flicked the ash to the ground as a server came and replaced Aichlan’s empty glass with a full one. “Ignorance? Alright gen’ral, I’ll bite.”

Aichlan grinned and sat back, kicking his feet up onto the table. “My name sends shivers down maiden’s spines from here to Catharone; I’ve known half of this court and that of nearly a dozen others.”

Eth politely clapped in a mocking way. “Impressive mate, I rate it eight outta eight.”

“Yer fuckin’ drunk.” Donough chastised.

“What the fook else is there tae do then?”

Donough rolled his eyes and took another puff from his cigar. “Anywye, its quality over quantity.”

“That’s a lie those who can’t get quantity tell themselves.” Aichlan said dismissively, and jerked his thumb in the direction the Lady had once been. “If I had a night with her I’d—“

“Ye’d what?” Ashe asked tersely as she approached from behind.

Aichlan fumbled his cigar and cursed aloud as it burned a small hole in his coat. Both Eth and Donough abruptly stood and excused themselves.

* * *

The hours went by slowly as Aichlan holed himself up in his chambers, his officers and soldiers went about spending the king’s money and carousing in pubs and brothels. He had withdrawn his order for battle readiness given Laelianus’ inflexibility and the holiday resumed. Aichlan only wished he could relax, but the years of battle had rendered him incapable of life off the battlefield. His time with the elves had allowed him to forget his anti-social shortcomings, but upon returning to ‘civilization’, it became blatantly obvious once again. Having died and rose again did little to remedy this.

Ashe had taken to associating more and more with Clarissa and Rowena on their shopping excursions. She returned periodically, wearing furs and tanned leathers much like the Thiudorican's in their land of perpetual winters. She had also taken to wearing jewelry, apparently having found some of the jewelry she had purchased in Rhode; fortunately, it had survived the battle. He was at once gladdened and jealous; her ability to return to normalcy was a stark reminder that she was just a smith. As the sun began to set, she entered with several parcels, sighing upon seeing Aichlan staring into the fire in the same spot and position as she left him hours ago. She took a seat at the vanity mirror, tapping the edge of the frame to illuminate it, and began to brush her wild mane despite the futility.

She had given him quite the scolding earlier, even going so far as to force him to offer an apology to the King. Had it been any other woman making such an absurd demand of him and his pride, he’d have told her to fuck right off. Yet Ashe was different, not only did she get him to emasculate himself before that arrogant prick Laelianus, but he was generally fearful of what she would do should he say no. It infuriated him to no end, that this woman could have such sway and power over him. She did not try and control him under threat of withholding sex or something else equally petty and insignificant, but rather he acquiesced for fear of disappointing her faith in him. Ashe genuinely saw him in a light he couldn’t comprehend, and he knew that that vision she had of him drove him to shine brighter. It was also the source of the current darkness around him.

“Are ye planning oon moping fer the rest o’ the evening?” Ashe tapped the brush against the table to get Aichlan’s attention. “Or will ye join us for dinner?”

Aichlan remained silent, slouched in his seat, a vacant expression on his face. The only sign that he was still alive was his bouncing knee as he tapped his foot incessantly. Ashe sighed in resignation as she rummaged through her obsidian jewelry box, trying to piece together several sets of earrings for the night’s festivities.

“I swear yer worse than my father was, and he was just an old drunk. I hope this isn’t going to be a constant thing is it? I want oor little girl to have a loving father.”

Aichlan allowed a smirk. “And you’re certain of the sex are you?”

“Mebbe…” She smiled.

“Well whatever the case, you needn’t worry. I want nothing more to do with battle and war. When this conflict comes to its end, I will find a proper job in Westfaire.” Aichlan gestured generally, splashing his drink. “Perhaps working the sea with Francis, or just enjoying my life… but no more of this.”

Ashe set down her brush and turned to Aichlan, a look of sympathy upon her face, and a longing to return to what was lost. With an exasperated sigh she shook her head and crossed the room, taking the drink from his hand. Aichlan looked up to protest, but quickly turned back to the smoldering fire; the last thing he wanted or needed was pity.

“I think ye’ve had enough o’ the poison dear...”

Aichlan nodded slightly as the fire popped and crackled. “Indeed.”

Ashe dumped the liquor into the fire and placed the glass on the mantle. “But ye do realize I wish tae return tae Rhode.”

The door opened and Rowena stepped in with an obligatory knock after the fact. “I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

Clarissa pushed her way in after the young elf, and took a seat upon the ottoman at the foot of the bed. Her hair adorned with flecks of silver as it fell over her creamy shoulders. Her dinner gown was the color of furnace smoke, blending into lighter shades from the waist down. Eth’s family symbol, a dead tree of silver ringed in a silver hoop, was displayed prominently around her neck, nestled in her cleavage.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before these discussions started—” she began in Elysian, changing to Aes Sidhean upon realizing her mistake. “Excuse me. But in my own opinion neidzer option is entirely, how you say, pleasant.”

“Clarissa, I didn’t expect you. Thought I made that clear…” Ashe growled.

“It’s not about you Ashe.” Clarissa shot back with unforeseen venom. “I did not tell ‘im to carry on as ‘e did.”

“Ye didnae warn us either, though did ye?”

Aichlan had only the slightest inkling of what they were arguing about, though truly did not care. There was nothing anyone could have done to prevent the day’s strange turn, he was simply a corked bottle under too much pressure, he would have blown regardless. The two would likely work things out by tomorrow, no doubt it was some trivial matter brought about by hormones and feminine idiosyncrasies, there was absolutely no need for Aichlan to get involved. At least that is what he hoped for. Knowing them however, it most likely would not end as he hoped.

“I’ve come to check on my wayward knight.” Clarissa shot with a flick of her hair.

“Me?” Aichlan pointed at himself in surprise.

“Yes you, you ‘ave been acting most boorish of late. I fear you are ‘aving negative impacts upon Eth’s recovery--”

“What recovery?” Aichlan snapped.

“—I don’t know zee cause of such behaviors,” She continued, ignoring Aichlan’s interruption, “but I must insist dzat you curb your aggressions as they reflect poorly upon our organization.”

“Do ye ever take the time to think o’ what yer saying?” Ashe said coolly. “Or do words just pour from yer mouth?”

Clarissa frowned as Ashe stepped behind a privacy screen to change. “Ashe, being pregnant is hardly an excuse at dzis point.”

“Please, not in my room.” Aichlan groaned as he massaged his temples. “I am in no mood for bickering. Light knows I do enough of it in a day for the lot of us.”

Clarissa stood as she crossed over to Aichlan, her hands glowed pale blue as she massaged his neck and shoulders. “I know, and I appreciate what you ‘ave done. But we can’t carry on like dzat, it doesn’t fit into society.”

The fatigue and anxiety that beset him was instantly washed away in a flood of healing energies, as if the rays of the sun were made into a liquid and he lay in a gentle river of it. He purred in spite of himself as she worked deep into his muscles, melting under her expert touch.

“Ashe… let it go…”

A boot flew indiscriminately from behind the screen, knocking over a vase upon a table. The door opened again as Maleah entered, she looked down at the shattered vase before continuing in followed by her brother. Both were smartly dressed for the evening, Maleah in her military uniform, Séverin in the garb of a noble complete with cape and superfluous jewelry.

Aichlan groaned, despite all he did, his room always became the meeting space and social spot for his officers. Maleah helped herself to the fruit in the bowl upon a table; Séverin smacked his sister’s hand and put the fruit back, chiding her in Xanavien. Aichlan bolted upright in shock as Clarissa’s healing touch abruptly ceased when she rushed to Séverin’s side, and leapt into his arms. It was difficult to believe that she was nearly the same age as Séverin; and ironically, the most mature of their group, Fiora, was one of the youngest.

“Are you ready for the banquet monsieur?” Clarissa sang; her arms draped around Séverin’s neck.

“Quite ready Mademoiselle.”

Maleah gagged and turned away in disgust. “Still, odd ass time for a banquet seeing as the enemy will be here in the morning.”

Aichlan made his way to the liquor cabinet and began pouring glasses of wine. “Aye.”

“Princess Dorso has made her homecoming known, after she was presumed dead. The king is obligated to do this.”

Aichlan nearly dropped his glass as he turned to Séverin. “How did you find this out?”

“Trade secrets I am afraid.” Séverin smiled warmly as he took the glass from Aichlan’s hand. “But I’ve only said that the princess has returned, not where she has returned from. But on another matter, what’s this I hear about Alice being--”

Aichlan held up his hand and shook his head, not wanting to delve into that particular subject if he did not need to. Though it was becoming increasingly uncomfortable having a spy among them, Séverin was constantly proving his worth in the field of reconnaissance and Aichlan even suspected assassination. Several nobles had made derogatory remarks regarding Maleah during the war council earlier, Aichlan assumed Séverin had ignored them, but one of those nobles was found dead today.

Ashe stepped from behind the screen, dressed in brown satin, her hair pinned up with several stubborn locks free to frame her delicate features. The maternal glow made itself evident, as did the beginning of her baby bump.

“So, when is this damned dinner? I’m starving.” Ashe asked, oblivious to the awe she had inspired.

“What? Ashe dressed up too? Now I’m gonna be the only one not wearin’ all that frilly nonsense.” Maleah complained, though no one paid her any mind.

Aichlan grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, and ushered everyone out of his room. The banquet would probably not begin for another hour or so, but they could mingle and drink in the ballroom until then. Whatever the case, he felt the sudden urge to change scenery after a day sequestered alone.

“Maleah you’ll be fine, I’m going as is and I’m certain Eth and the others shall as well.”

Aichlan finished his drink as Maleah snagged a couple of apples from the bowl as they filed out of the room. As Aichlan set down his glass, he wondered if the rampant alcoholism would not prove to be some sort of a detriment. He paused as the others walked on, he would not be able to take his sword with him, but a dagger was far easier to conceal. He removed his dagger from his sword belt and attached it to his belt under his coat before hurrying after the others. Despite the security of the palace, he could not force himself to leave unarmed.