This blog is for me that others may read. I spend at least an hour on each prompt then go back and edit it then post it. If I come back to it I come back to it but if I don't then oh well. I have so many stories in my head and get depressed if I don't write something so this is more therapy for me. Enjoy!
I was asked to continue this story. If you enjoy the story all you have to do is ask me! I find it helps to keep my interest in something if people enjoy what I write.
Now that I'm further into this story in the final draft I have a much better idea about my characters. I won't post anything new though yet until I finished which will be soon.
Writing Prompts Used:
1. "With this smile. I can get away with everything."
2. You will not survive this war.
The Viceroy was looking over some papers when his cadet returned.
“Talon?” Satordi asked only looking up once before going back to his work. “You delivered my gift?”
“Yes, Viceroy, but…,” Cadet Talon tried to keep his face neutral but was failing under Satordi’s scrutiny.
“But?”
“Lady Constance… wouldn’t accept the gift.”
Satordi stopped what he was doing. He looked up intrigued.
“What happened?” he asked calmly.
“She refused to accept your apology unless you delivered it yourself and… she gave the emerald bracelet to one of the other ladies,” Talon explained.
Satordi felt a stab at his pride but was somewhat amused by Constance’s rebuff. What a demanding creature. She still liked to play this little game. Fine with him but he’ll win in the end.
Another cadet entered the room. He gave an urgent bow then announced, “I have some report for you, sir.”
“Can it wait?”
“Afraid not, Viceroy.”
The new cadet quickly passed his note to the Viceroy. When Satordi read the contents his warm amusement faded into distress.
“It seems an unexpected guest will be joining us,” Satordi said, getting up from his seat then blowing past the befuddled cadets who only stared after their boss as he made his way down the hall and out of sight.
Euphemia had sent Ion out before her to welcome the guests while she was putting the finishing touches on her hair that cascaded down her shoulders and sparkled with purple amethysts that dripped down her tendrils from her gold circlet. She placed a gossamer royal purple veil strewn with constellations on her head to complete the outfit when she heard a voice she thought she would never hear again: “You always looked good in purple.”
Euphemia froze. Her heart stopped for only a beat or two when she turned around to see a ghost. A ghost wearing a long black robe tied with a red sash.
“Mara…,” Euphemia whispered in amazement. Yet not Mara. She looked different.
“It’s been a while I know,” Mara smiled. “You’re still the same.”
“You’ve changed,” not a ghost but flesh and blood after all. Mara once had brown boy cropped hair which she had let grown out to reach just above the base of her neck. The same almond shaped eyes, irises the color of gunmetal and a long aquiline nose and thin lips that would disappear when Mara was in a pensive, rebellious mood.
“You’re still skinny,” Euphemia miffed. Mara smiled amused.
“You’re still the vain Matron I left behind,” Mara tilted her head to the side, “though you have a bit more wrinkles around your eyes…”
Euphemia’s shock had worn off giving way to indignation. Who did this twiggy drop out think she was?
“What are you doing here?” Euphemia glared daggers at Mara who remained unphased.
“I was invited,” Mara spoke simply. “I would have thought Lupa had told you.”
Euphemia had a storm raging inside of her. Damn that Lupa! That deceitful bitch!
“Oh, I see she didn’t,” Mara laughed dryly. “Apologies.”
“If you’re here to ruin my Patron’s Banquet I’ll tell you now that I will skin you alive then hang it out to dry on a clothes line then feed your oozing carcass to the dogs,” Euphemia threatened coldly.
“I didn’t come for a fight,” Mara spoke soberly taking Euphemia a bit off guard. Where was the defiant rebel that caused a fuss whenever she had to dance or wear make up?
“I came here,” Mara continued, “to make an alliance. You. Me. The Black Dahlias.”
“A what?” Euphemia didn’t think she heard right. “Me make an alliance with you? Last I saw you I remember you saying that being a courtesan was no better than slavery. You hate this institution!”
“I did,” Mara admitted. “But I was just a farm girl with ideals.”
“And now?”
“I still have ideals. I just modified them a bit.”
“Really…,” Euphemia eyed Mara suspiciously.
“I actually joined the Army of Light for a while but they only want to subjugate women,” Mara looked around Euphemia’s lavish bedroom. She went to Euphemia’s vanity mirror inspecting the porcelain and silver jars filled with perfumes and anti-aging creams.
“They burned down many brothels,” Euphemia remembered. “Many with women still inside.”
“Yes well I wasn’t a part of any of that,” Mara confessed. “I’ve seen the chaos in our world and I think the courtesan trade is one of the few ways women can enjoy freedom.”
Mara picked up a silver jar containing lavender scented cream, “I can’t believe I actually missed this scent. Whenever I smelled lavender I thought of home.” She smelled it but Euphemia snatched the jar from Mara’s hands.
“Get to the point, Mara,” Euphemia ordered. “I have other guests to greet.”
“Alright then,” Mara shrugged. “I want us to change the system.”
“What do you mean?”
“Change how the courtesans are as a class,” Mara explained, “First by getting rid of that medieval practice of removing the courtesan’s uterus.”
“Ha!” Euphemia mocked. “And you say you’ve changed? That will never happen.”
“Removing a woman’s ability to have children is robbing her of a choice,” Euphemia rolled her eyes as Mara recited her manifesto, “it turns her into an object to be thrown away.”
“It’s also a way a courtesan can get killed if she has a patron’s child and tried to get some of his estate,” Euphemia recited history. “Competition between heirs regardless who was born on what side of the blanket would cause chaos. The nobles and politicians would never allow such disorder.”
“And when a courtesan retires? What would she have then?”
“Security,” Euphemia said matter-of-factly. “Her parents and siblings all well provided for.”
Mara’s gunmetal blue eyes went cold, sending a slight shiver through Euphemia. Mara said, “I never said so before but I always admired you Euphemia but if you don’t join me then you will not survive this war.”
Euphemia came to her full height looking down on the wispy girl, “Better people than you have threatened me, my dear, and they’re all 6 feet underground.”
Satordi stomped through the marble halls making his way to the wine cellar. He had gotten a message to Finn who was waiting there for him, a bit peeved himself at being summoned so unexpectedly.
“I don’t think you understand our relationship, Viceroy,” Finn began. “You don’t summon us.”
“Then when were you going to tell me that Mara Perth was going to be a guest at tonight’s banquet?” Satordi spat acidly.
Finn looked confused. Then Satordi showed him the note he received from a cadet on who was going to be at the banquet. Finn was stunned. He met Mara once. Uppity is how he would describe her though passionate. She seemed perfect for the cause but she refused to bow down before any man.
“You’re supposed to know everything that goes on in the Army of Light,” Satordi’s irritation making his eye twitch. “Haven’t they been keeping tabs on the Black Dahlia’s movements?”
“Apparently Mara still has friends in the brotherhood,” Finn reasoned sourly.
“Well then,” Satordi straightened himself up, looking a bit disheveled from his brisk walk, “you’ll have to find out what she wants.”
“To kill you perhaps,” Finn theorized.
“You sound so hopeful,” Satordi grumbled.
“It makes the most sense,” Finn shrugged. “You’ve shown our movement favor. She left us because she was fighting for women’s total dominance over men.”
“Another radical,” Satordi spoke with scorn looking at Finn accusingly. “Just find out more if you can. Then report back to me.”
Constance needed some air. Suddenly the heavy incense and perfumes were making her dizzy; making it hard to breathe let alone think. She went out into the warm night air admiring the green blue glow of Pyreois. Mira was such a hot moon. The breeze felt nice though.
“I remember when I first met you,” Ion spoke softly yet his presence still startled her. “You were leaning over this same railing…”
“Stop sneaking up on people,” Constance reprimanded him yet she was still glad to see him despite everything that happened between them today. Ion only smiled, “Sorry.” He was genuine.
“You think that smile will make me forgive you don’t you?”
“With this smile,” Ion boasted, “I can get away with everything.”
Ion joined Constance leaning over the stone railing watching the fireflies dance in the exotic gardens of Hedone. They stood in silence enjoying the other’s presence. The world a distant sound while they lived in peace in this quiet space.
“Nothing you can say will change my mind,” Constance knew it had to end sometime.
“And nothing you can say can make me believe that you’re okay with being sold into servitude to a man you don’t love,” Ion affirmed.
“Ion…,” Constance groaned suddenly feeling tired.
“Just hold on…,” Ion rummaged through his pocket then pulled out the simple gold ring.
“What is that?” Constance crossed her arms.
“You already went through the graduation process,” Ion moved closer, “but there’s still time for you to get out of this. All you have to do is just say the word and we’ll run. As far and away as you want.”
Constance didn’t want to admit it but she often had that dream with Ion. If her father and blood sisters weren’t in such dire straights with the farm not producing as much crop as before, she would run with Ion. She was 24. Patrons used to come for new courtesans as soon as they turned 18 but now they were harder to find. Satordi may be her only hope.
Reading her thoughts Ion placed the ring in Constance’s hand and said, “Just think about it, please. Wear this ring at the end of the night. I’ll know that means ‘yes’.” Ion and Constance continued holding hands afraid that once they let go the magic would be over. But it had to end. Ion kissed Constance on the forehead then released her. Constance was left alone in the night suddenly feeling colder. Ion was like the sun to Constance. The feeling was suddenly hitting her that she may have to live without him…
She wasn’t much for crying but her vision began to blur a little. She wiped her eyes to prevent the tears from falling. Constance couldn’t give into despair or doubt now… She should have thrown the ring away but doing so felt like the worst sin Constance could ever commit. Instead she placed it in her pocket of her red sari. She took a deep breath then went back inside.
Little did Constance know that they had an audience. Satordi was on his way to Constance’s room to give his own apology like she asked or demanded mostly when he caught sight of her… with Ion. A fire burned inside of Satordi as he watched the couple cozy up together like lovers. They were lovers. How dare she! She wouldn’t except his expensive jewels but would except a simple cheap trinket? Leading him on. Yet his anger was replaced by jealousy. A covetous kind where he still wanted Constance. Being an only child Satordi didn’t like to share his toys and there he proclaimed Constance his but he would punish her first…
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