Chapter Twenty-Two

Fateful Question

The few weeks leading up to Alice’s birthday party passed ordinarily. Having gotten over her fall, she had been heavily laden with work and had had barely any spare time.

Indeed, there was always much work to be done after the first trading quarter was over.

Although she missed her books - she couldn’t say that she’d read one chapter in fullness in a fortnight - Alice was glad of the distraction in other regards. She’d been able to use her schedule as an excuse not to give too many evenings over to Samir. He’d whine that he missed her and sneak the odd kiss where he could to try and make up for their lost ‘alone time’, but he was never disheartened.

Now it was the eve of her seventy-second birthday, and the Palace had become lively in preparation for the celebrations tomorrow evening.

The guest quarters had filled up with ‘friends’ of the Royal family, business partners, and important nobles. There were people everywhere, which alone was unusual, but many of them were strangers that had come from afar - other countries, other mythical cities, etc.

It was like this every April, for Alice’s birthday and then again in November, for Karou’s birthday. Though the Queen always protested against making her party so extravagant, she would always lose that battle against the Court and be made to go, however reluctantly. Cassandra, the second born, the spare to the heir, was lucky because her birthday fell during the time of the harvest festival and was lost amid those festivities. That was alright with her, though - she much preferred going out and doing her own thing.

When the twelfth day of the fourth month finally dawned, Alice rolled over in her bed to the sweet smell of freshly baked croissants - her favourite!

“Happy Birthday!” Cassandra beamed the moment her sister’s sleepy eyes peeled open. She was waiting at the side of her bed, with a silver plater between her hands. On the tray was a special breakfast that Cass organised the preparation of on the morning of her sister’s birthday every year. It had become a family tradition, and Cass made sure to create the menu out of Alice’s favourite food. It was always dessert because that was her sister’s favourite course. If dessert for breakfast wasn’t the best way to start a birthday, then the Morgan sisters didn’t know what was!

“Thank you, Cass.” Alice smiled back, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “I heard you sneak out about an hour ago, though,” She whispered as if letting her sister in on a secret.

It wasn’t unusual that the sisters had sleepovers, and the night before, Alessandra had read Cassandra her favourite Greek Tragedy until they’d both fallen asleep.

“Damn it, and I was trying to be quiet too,” Cassandra grumbled and set down the tray onto one of the two nightstands.

“Haha, it’s okay. You know it’s near impossible to sneak around; around me, I feel everything,”

“Yeah, I know, but still,” Cassandra fidgeted; she was disappointed at being discovered and impatient for Alice to tuck into her breakfast and lift her spirits by telling her how yummy it was.

“Besides, my birthday breakfast isn’t meant to be a surprise. It’s special because you do it every year, and I look forward to it.” Alessandra said enthusiastically.

She swung her lefts from the mattress to sit sideways at the nightstand. Straightening out her nightdress over her thighs, Alice pulled the napkin from the tray and set it down on her lap - exaggerating her lady-like etiquette. Then, with wide silvery eyes, she looked up at her sister cutely, expectantly and said, “Well? Aren’t you going to do my favourite part?”

Cassandra snickered and pulled a candle and a lighter from her pocket. “Make a wish.” She requested, set the candle into the croissant and lit it for Alice.

Alice held back her hair, leaned forward, blew out her birthday candle, and made a secret wish.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you-” Cassandra began to sing until both girls burst into a fit of giggles.

The desert air grew cooler and more pleasant when the shadows lengthened and the sun melted towards the horizon. In the late afternoon, everyone had taken to their private rooms to prepare themselves for the party, which was due to begin at seven.

Alessandra, who had had most of the day to herself, had collected some books from her library after breakfast and read a little before indulging in a hot, bubbly and aromatic bath. She thoroughly pampered herself all before three in the afternoon. Then, sat in a silky nightdress and gown on her balcony and read some more in the shade of a large white parasol.

At five, one of the Palace staff was to play lady in waiting - she was due to arrive at Alice’s room to tend to her dressing and fixing the Princesses hair and such. Alessandra only bothered with such a formality on big occasions like tonight’s party. Mostly, she was too practical to require a dressing aid; the tradition seemed so archaic.

In the old observatory, Karou was in the large bathroom connected to her bedroom. There was some upbeat pop song from her teenage years playing from the antique mp3 player by the sink. While she frolicked about, she sang along loudly and badly.

On the other side of the castle, Cassandra was not in her room; she was still down in the Solaris training arena, sparing with some of the fourth-year initiates.

Although she’d leave getting dressed until the last minute, the deep-green jumpsuit she’d picked to wear for the party hung on the front door or her wardrobe, waiting for her.

Similarly to the youngest of the Morgan sisters, Warren had laid out his attire for the evening on the bed in his guest room; his shoes were set with their laces untied on the ottoman at the foot of the bed - regimentally as ever. Like Alice, he’d allotted some time to grooming, too. Now, Warren stood before the mirror in the steamy bathroom, showered and clothed in a towel as he trimmed his short beard into shape with a straight razor. He hummed awkwardly while his jaw was stiff and skin taut so as not to nick himself.

Afterwards, he’d pat his chosen cologne down the centre of his chest; he always kept it away from his neck so as not to hinder any potential feeding later on.

By sundown, Alessandra was bidding her helpful assistant a good evening as she departed her room. With her hair trained into soft curls, pinned and gathered over one shoulder, Alice eyed herself in the mirror with a please smile; she skimmed her hand down the front of her dress. She was ready early, but there was somewhere she wanted to go before submitting herself to the gathered crowd. Hopefully, if everyone was in high spirits, the mood wouldn’t be too much of a strain on her.

She applied the finishing touches to her make-up and spritzed herself in perfume before leaving her room.

Her mother was doing much the same; her upper eyelid now lined with thick, cat-eye style liner. She’d managed to contour her face in a way that brought the most attention to the luminescence of her eyes and sculpted cheekbones. However, her secret weapon was the dark red lipstick that she applied last.

The music continued to play, and when the hook of a hearty chorus filled her bedroom, Karou sang even louder and twirled in her sleek black dress, running her hands about the accentuated curves of her body in a seductive dance. She felt good tonight.

The outfit was finished off with a thin gold chain necklace and earrings before Karou slipped on her black heels, switched off the music, locked her bedroom door and went tottering off in search of her Sire. They’d agreed to meet and make an entrance into the Great Hall together.

Across the Palace, Cassandra arrived back at her room and began her party preparation rituals. Few of them revolved around the act of dressing. No sooner was she out of the shower than she had slipped into her jumpsuit and strapped her flat black sandal straps up her legs. She wasted little time on her hair. With a bobby pin held between her teeth, she hunched over her bathroom sink and arranged her hair into a purposefully messy bun atop her head. Her black eye makeup was smudged into place with the tip of her finger, as was the tinted balm she’s rubbed into her plump lips and vaguely about her cheeks. Of the two sisters, it was ironic that Cassandra was the most skilled in hair and makeup, but then again, her ‘looks’ were never as ‘put together’ as Alice’s, and that seemed to suit the wild and untamed nature of the youngest Morgan.

Exiting his ensuite, Warren dropped and folded his towel and began his dressing sequence before the floor-length mirror that sat amongst a cluster of furniture which he’d been acquiring for his new home in the catacombs – restorations had already begun for his big move.

Taking up his clothes in succession, he dressed as such: Underwear and socks were pulled on as a base layer. Shirt donned, buttoned, collar and cuffs straightened. Trousers, zipped-up, pockets and shirt tucked. Tie, knotted and straightened. Then Warren sat upon the ottoman and slipped on his dress shoes, pre-polished; he tied the laces in a small, tight bow. Lastly, he put on his watch and cufflinks, slipped on his jacket and filled his pockets with his usual accessories.

Karou, Warren and Cassandra left their rooms at roughly the same time and embarked on their journeys toward the Great Hall, where they’d eventually converge.

Meanwhile, dressed to the nines, Alice fled her room as the party guests began to arrive in their herds. She snuck through back passages and scurried down a hidden stairwell with her dress’ skirt gathered about her shins. Eventually, she made it to the dungeons completely unnoticed. Everyone was too busy to spy the birthday girl sneaking in the opposite direction of her birthday bash.

In the catacombs, all alone, it was no surprise where the Princess was going. At Star Fall Temple, Alessandra took to one of the semicircular pews and repeated the same wish she had that morning as she blew out her birthday candle.

Please, let him find me. Alice prayed, and in her mind, she rationally allowed a month for her wishes to be answered before she’d accept; if it is Samir, then so be it.

She had a feeling that tonight was going to be the night he’d chosen to ask her that fateful question.

The Vestibule was getting quite full. Though the crowd wasn’t packed together like a subway car, Warren could tell by the nervous looks on the waiter’s faces as they carried trays of hors d’oeuvres aloft through the narrowing spaces between those they served that this party’s guest list was larger than they were accustomed. He wondered why. The answer would come to him one way or another.

For now, though, he had chosen to remain above it all. He lingered by the balcony rail of the second floor that haloed the room. From his aerial position, he could look down on the event and remain an impartial outsider. He did not doubt that as soon as his fledgeling appeared, she’d be keen on introducing him to people, and he’d end up thrust into the throng of it all.

As his eyes scooped the vicinity, he happened to catch sight of her familiar pair of eyes from across the room. On the other side of the same balcony, trapped in a conversation between Cambria Morningstar and Callida Wildshield, Karou’s eyes cried ‘mayday!’. Her head flit this way while her lips hung agape; she couldn’t get a word in edgeways, and this was because of Callida wittering on. Cambria already looked bored of the conversation. The beakish-looking redhead seemed to be a parrot, forever on the shoulder of Cambria and whose near-constant chatter irritated the fallen angel like an unreachable itch.

Meanwhile, Warren waited and watched as Karou was helplessly ushered further from him and down the staircase by the two women.

Despite how utterly confused she looked the moment their crowd was in sight, PING, like a light switch, a radiant and friendly smile burst onto Karou’s face. She played the part of benevolent Monarch perfectly. There were cheers of glee when the guests beheld their Queen; he supposed it was a relatively tame and casual way to greet royalty. Alas, tonight was Alessandra’s night.

As Karou was eagerly greeted and gobbled up by the masses on the back of her neck, she could feel the warm tingle the gaze of her Sire’s eyes bestowed. She could feel him in the room despite all the others present. If she closed her eyes, they’d be all alone, just the two of them in her mind, because his energy felt palpable to her like no one else.

Glancing back over her shoulder and wing arch, she battered her eyelashes before meeting his eye from beneath them with a demure smile that parted her painted lips. He swore she’d revealed her fangs to him for a second, but perhaps it was wishful thinking. Even from several meters away, she knew how to get him going; such a flirt was she.

I see you.

He heard her voice in his head which only added to the tease. He could look but not touch, so instead, he took his hands from his pockets and clutched the polished golden bar of the balcony rail.

Hmm, I see you too.

He replied, and already he couldn’t keep the yearning from his mind; it might’ve even revealed itself in the tone of his thought.

It did. I have to play hostess now, but we can play later, alright? Karou grinned mischievously.

You tease.

Who? Me? Karou asked, feigning innocence as she flicked her hair over her other shoulder while standing at such an angle that it displayed her neck to him seductively.

You know what you’re doing. Watching Karou from afar was what he had become accustomed to, and honestly, he didn’t mind seeing as he knew he’d get to have her all to himself once the party was over. He would always be the one to take her home. You wait until I have you all to myself. You’ll pay for your little games, Ms Morgan.

Suddenly, Karou turned directly toward the balcony, lifted her head and stared straight at him. You promise, Mr Howard? She begged the question while drinking in his image. There he stood, a mysterious onlooker, suited in black, silver wristwatch peeping out from his cuff and gleaming expensively as his hands remained tucked into his pockets. He was the image of a twentieth-century man, and there was an air of masculine elegance that never left him, so clean-cut and devilishly handsome, he looked delicious.

I don’t know how much longer I can abstain.

Just then, a page arrived at the top of the grand flight of stairs to announce that the guests could now make their way toward the Great Hall. It cut their mental conversation short, but Karou took the relocation of the guests as an opportunity to relieve herself of hosting duties. Amidst those steadily ascending the staircase, she managed to escape and find her way to Warren, who, having glanced at his watch, noted that the time was twenty-to-seven and decided it was time to follow the guests too.

Paused at the top of the stairwell, he watched Karou make her climb towards him tantalizingly slowly. Neither’s gaze faltered from the other, and Warren eyed how tightly her black dress clung to her hips and accentuated how they undulated as she took each step in her stride.

When the time came, and they met face to face, he realised the reason for her steady steps. The intense, sexually tense moment flickered away as she reached out for his arm, hoping he might catch her from the trip she’d taken over the last step. Truthfully, she had always been a little wobbly in high heels, though she always managed to catch herself before she went entirely off-balance.

Turning to take one sure-footed step toward her, Warren caught her forearm in his hand and steadied her against the slight waver in her balance.

“Falling head over heels for me already?” Warren joked with a charming grin.

“Oh, I fell a long, long time ago.” Karou grinned back up at him with tender eyes.

“So did I.” He assured her with an honest smile. It transgressed into a smirk when he turned his attention to her feet. “How’re the heels faring?”

“I hate these things,” she grumbled. “Over a century, and I still can’t walk in heels. Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

Although Karou didn’t look like she had when they’d first met; nevertheless, Karou still set off a flutter of heat in his stomach. As he beheld her, his eyes were a deep blue, edging on thirst. Karou noticed how they smouldered down at her from under his brow, but tonight, the shade suited him.

“I assure you, there has never been anything wrong with you,” Warren said and leaned forward to kiss her forehead lovingly. “You look...” He started but didn’t finish the sentence; his expression and how he looked at her seemed to say everything he needed to. Sometimes the best way to convey was to say nothing at all, which suited Warren and his disposition.

Warren pulled Karou’s arm to hook over his forearm and led her towards the Great Hall. His golden age mannerisms manifested as chivalry these days; it annoyed him that people wore their good manners like an overcoat, something ready to be taken off as soon as possible. He strove to be gentlemanly until someone gave him a reason to take his gloves off.

Just as they were about to make their grand entrance into the Great Hall together, arm in arm, as a couple, Cambria appeared before them and glanced between them with disapproving eyes.

“Tonight isn’t the best time to make any debuts.”

Warren glimpsed how Karou rolled her eyes. To her mind, the dramatic image of a dark and mysterious man with the Queen was precisely what the evening required to kick start the fun.

“I agree,” Warren stated and surprised Karou. He let go of her arm, set a chased kiss on her cheek and offered her forward to Cambria. “We can have our time later.”

“Yes, I don’t intend to be occupied all night. I’ll need your conversation for some relief from the politics of it all.” Her eyes rolled again. Cambria grew impatient while waiting for Karou and disappeared back inside the Great Hall, giving Karou a few moments longer with her Sire. She decided to tease him just a little more to tide him over while she was away from him. Earlier, she noticed the slight darkness of his eyes. Now, she reached out and touched her finger to the corner of one. “Of course, when the party is over, I’d be happy to help you out in return, or if you feel like being extremely mischievous and want to sneak off into some hidden corner somewhere...” It was hard to tell if she was joking when she said that last bit - either way, she winked and leaned up to return the kiss on his cheek and was careful not to leave too much lipstick in its wake. “I’ll catch you later.” She blew him another kiss for added effect and headed into the dimly lit room.

Not a second later, Warren felt someone crash into him from behind. When he turned to discover who it was, he found a rather flustered-looking Alessandra, but still nothing short of glamorous in what she was wearing.

“Oh, Warren. You- You have to help me,” she said frantically and grabbed his jacket sleeve. She turned them about so she was in front of him, hidden from view but peeking over his shoulder like she was wary that someone was following her.

Wide-eyed, he stared down at her, her panic rubbing off on him somehow because now he looked alarmed despite how calmly he managed to ask, “Help you how? Wait, are you alright?”

“Just keep me talking for a minute or two.” She said breathlessly, though she was trying to regain it.

“Alright, I can do that.” Warren continued to speak calmly.

Cautiously, his hands hovered beneath her forearms; he wasn’t sure if she’d appreciate being touched. He didn’t like to be caught off guard with physical contact. Still, he steered her off to the side, away from the doors of the Great Hall and away from any nosey onlookers.

Now, he sought the attention of her eyes, “Are you alright?”

“Yes. I think so.” She sighed. “I- I thought I was ready, but I’m not,” she explained, still a little rosy-cheeked. The look on her face stunned Warren; this was the first time he’d seen her in any state but calm and collected. Her bright, grey eyes darted back and forth, and Warren got the notion that she was making sure that someone wasn’t there, which caused him to wonder if someone was looking for her.

Now that she was sure the coast was clear, she slunk back against the wall and smoothed out the front of her glittering rose gold dress.

“What aren’t you ready for?” Warren asked delicately and tipped his head in another attempt to meet her eyes; she still wouldn’t look at him.

Alice didn’t reply in words; she was hesitant to answer.

“Alice?” He asked, again delicately, tenderly, like he cared.

Finally, Alice looked at him, and when she did, she stared into Warren's eyes, looking rather lost but hoping she was relying on a friend, a confidant. The way she’d clasped he hands behind her hips; made her appear small and timid. Her voice lowered to a mousy whisper when she said, “Samir. Samir and I are childhood friends, but...”

Already blushing and embarrassed about what she was about to admit, Alice fell silent for another pause while she worked up some courage. Warren lost her gaze again.

In her mind, she prayed that Warren was her friend. He was an unbiased and rational man; opening up to him would be easier than talking to her mother or sister about this, she was sure, and this was something she’d never spoken aloud before. “… Sometimes, we’re more than that.”

Warren nodded in understanding, and Alice peeped at him to check that he wasn’t too shocked by her admitting to having any kind of sex life. Apparently, Warren wasn’t phased; she was seventy-two, afterall and a stunningly beautiful woman. He smiled softly, which encouraged her to continue.

“In my moments of weakness, loneliness, desperation not feel alienated from the world, I give in to his advances and... well, then things happen. Things that I sometimes regret. It’s not that I don’t like him; I’m just not sure I like him enough. I don’t want to lead him on. He’s a good man. He’s everything I should want...”

“You can’t force chemistry, Alice.”

She sighed because she knew that.

“It’s confusing. I’m not certain that my feelings are my own or if they’re just emotions that I leech from him. He loves me, but... I’m not sure he understands me...” Alice’s head drooped again, looking back to the glistening marble floor.

“Given the chance, could he learn to? Perhaps you’re fear and doubt aren’t allowing you to be open to him? Maybe if you let him in, he might understand you better?” He’d once had to learn this lesson at the beginning of his relationship with Karou.

Alice smiled inwardly. There was the man of reason Alice hoped Warren would be.

“Probably. He knows me quite well already since he’s known me since I was about six. He just has such big emotions! He gets excited so easily, and sometimes I struggle to be around him. It gives me awful headaches, and the thought that this could be my life forever makes me... anxious.

Just now, I overheard his sister speaking to someone. She mentioned that he was “planning on asking” tonight. I knew that this day would come.” She shook her head and rephrased. “No, I think I knew it would tonight. I thought I’d mentally prepared myself for this, but now that I’m face to face with it, I feel so unsure. I feel sick.”

“Alice, the whole point in asking is so the other can say no. You’re not obliged to say yes. Unless…” He wondered something and asked, “There isn’t anyone demanding that you marry him, is there? The Court aren’t pushing this on you, are they?”

“No. Not yet. Not actively, at least. Passively, they’ve encouraged our friendship, but I haven’t been told that it’s time I got myself a husband yet. They like him, that’s for sure, and it would please them if I chose him before they had to choose for me.”

“Then you have the gift of time, at least. All you need to do is delay him. Tell him you need time to decide; you have a career goal you want to achieve before you marry, other than becoming Queen eventually, of course.” Warren rubbed over his chin, thinking, “Tell him… You want to travel and become more worldly before settling down? Tell him you’re infatuated with someone else...” Warren lifted his shoulders into a shrug as he didn’t have any better advice and admitted, “I’m no cupid when it comes to romance. I’ve made my fair share of mistakes in the past.”

“I had thought to tell him something like that, but do you think I’m being unnecessarily stand-offish?”

“I think you’re just nervous.” Warren smiled warmly. He couldn’t tell her not to marry Samir, he didn’t know their situation well enough, but he hoped his words comforted her.

They did, and Alice returned his smile.

Warren moved to the door, peered inside, and then back to Alessandra, “Are we going in? I need to find a seat where I can sit undisturbed with a good view.”

“Yes, you go on ahead. I suppose I’d better make a big entrance. It is my birthday, after all.” She said, seemingly more cheerful. “Thank you.” Alice patted Warren’s arm and turned away from him.

With her head held high, Alessandra straightened her shoulders and confidently made her way into the Great Hall. Almost instantly, there was an explosion of cheers.

Loitering by the door for a moment longer, Warren saw Alice go greet some of her friends, who began to shower her appearance with compliments. She blushed but smiled and thanked them for being at her party.

While the crowd was too busy to notice him, Warren casually made his way into the ballroom and slipped to the side of the walls, hoping to guarantee he wouldn’t be seen.

His eyes scoped about the room and the crowd. Warren assessed that it was like most parties he’d been to, if not in a slightly fancier venue that he was accustomed to. Still, he supposed he’d been to some pretty high-class places in his time; castles, even, but a Palace was a new one oo him.

The bar had been set up adjacent to the long buffet table. So, naturally, he made his way over there, in need of alcoholic refreshment. While he was there, he couldn’t help eavesdropping on some of the idle chatter amongst the few groups that gathered near him - the rumour on everyone’s lips tonight was a juicy one. ‘Princess Alessandra is to be engaged before the night was out.’