Party Intrusions

The hallway was quiet. Lining them on either side were the girls and then the boys to the other side. Most were waiting in order of their rank. Each corresponding with each other. Lorraine stood second to last with Charlotte ahead of her as they glanced over towards. They prepped together in her room. Both of them painting their lips a matching red, wigs, and while Charlotte’s gown was green lace, Lorraine’s was cream with a pale brocade with lace.
As soon as they were alerted they would be lining up in the hall, they hurried down and stood with each other waiting with everyone else. It was the routine for each year, and Lorraine had become an expert of sorts. In her years prior, Simon put her up to passing wine out to the members attending. He considered it an important job.
“Where is Vivienne?” Lorraine asked.
“Who cares,” Charlotte laughed.
Lorraine looked behind her. She was missing. Whatever, so what if she’s late? She doesn’t even deserve to be here for how she acted. 
“You should care, she’d do you a favor,” a voice said.
Both Charlotte and Lorraine turned their necks towards Bellamy. He was standing in some pompous vesture. A deep blue with golden embroidery and lacy ruffles pluming near his neck. His face powdered and a little black heart painted near his eye. Charlotte laughed at him as soon as she saw him calling him an ugly peacock. Which he said he was just Corterch.
“What? Do you know a better family for her to serve?” Charlotte asked.
Bellamy nodded. “Plenty.”
“Oh, which ones?”
“My own—“
“Wrong!”
Lorraine placed a hand on her chest and pouted. “You’ll miss me that much?” 
“Ugh, no. It’s that he’s had a prior apprentice, and it didn’t end well. Not for the student or his family.”
“Ugh, Bellamy. Shut up.”
Lorraine shuddered. “What is he talking about?”
Charlotte leaned back and sighed. “It was a few years back when, but they took in a gifted boy from Alland. He died though in a fire with the original duke. What happened is unknown, but people spread nasty rumors over things like that. Which they shouldn’t do!”
Bellamy shrugged. “She ought to know. His family’s marked her. It’s why no other offers have been made.”
“Conjecture.”
Lorraine felt her chest tighten. She hugged Charlotte and rested her chin onto her shoulder. 
“Promise to write to me after this, please,” Lorraine whispered.
“Only if you write to me, and don’t listen to him, rumors are rumors,” she said.
Simon suddenly swept into the hall, and he stood dressed in the same robe as earlier today. She glowered at him. He knew better than to dress so plainly before her. It was Lorraine’s chosen duty to help him maintain his appearance. He walked down the hall counting.
“Look lively, remember to smile, and don’t embarrass my university! Tonight is your last night as students. Whatever connections you make tonight will determine your fate afterward!” Simon announced.
As he reached the end, he sighed seeing Vivienne was missing. He stepped back and rubbed his face in his palms.
“Where is la Fontaine!” he snapped, took pause, and threw his arms in the air. “Fine, fuck it. I could care less.”
He turned with them all, and they began their ascent to the ballroom. All of them went in and they were welcomed with boisterous applause. Draped on each of them a sash of blue embroidered with white laurel leaves. Then a gold pendant with a white four pointed star on it. A Sorcerer’s Pendant. It was a symbol to show her completion.
Lorraine did as they had practiced. Smiling and walking with the perfect poise a courtier might have in a Corterch court. The ballroom was decorated all over. Chandeliers hung and lit with floral arrangements placed on the balconies and pillars. Tables set out from the library and covered in silks. The party had started some bit, but now it was truly commencing.
Since they entered, it was a barrage of meeting strangers. Some were familiar. Adjacent to Simon, in the small circle they made, she stood posted near an ice sculpture of two naked fey. Their wings dripping with water onto the floral arrangement of roses both pink and white, and plenty other flowers. She only looked away when Simon nudged her. They stood at the center of the ballroom near the back where doors were opened to a courtyard where musicians and people dined outside. She looked ahead where a line of noblemen went to talk to Simon. Flanking two rows of people dancing were people sat at tables. Charades were played and paintings presented on the right side.
“Here comes the new Duke,” Simon suddenly said.
She looked forward and it was the newest Duke of Sejou, Joseph Toussaint. He seemed far better than his father. She remembered cup bearing at the duels to familiarize herself amongst the nobles. He’d reached for her bottom, and she had to refrain from slapping him. His son was younger with similar slim features. She curtsied as she practiced a million times. She outstretched her hand, and he kissed her gloved knuckles. She remembered him from two years ago. He hadn’t come to event the prior year because he married.
“And who might these beauties be?” he asked.
Lorraine straightened herself as she glanced to Charlotte as the Duke kissed her knuckles as well. Simon gestured to them.
“Lady Lorraine Châtelaine of Cazetrou and Lady Charlotte Aarle of Wittemark. They are two excellent sorceresses, that I myself have helped train personally.”
“Châtelaine? As in the Black Chasseur?”
Simon nodded. “This is his daughter.”
Lorraine tried not to look away but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to say something but Simon was handling it for her. Far more gracefully too. The Duke turned back to her wide eyed, and it was like all others that had learned who she was. The Black Chasseur’s daughter. She wondered when they would ever see her as the sorceress. She smiled.
“It’s an honor to meet you, my lord,” she said.
His eyes glanced over Charlotte though. His eyes steadying at her midsection before glancing back at her face. His lips curling upward. She leaned forward. Lorraine nudged her slightly.
“Congratulations on becoming the Duke,” Charlotte said smiling..
The Duke hesitantly stepped back as she smiled. “Thank you. May I actually have this dance?” he asked.
He soon bowed and offered his hand for a dance. Lorraine smiled.
“Go ahead,” she said.
She remained with Simon waiting still for someone to come. She glanced to him. Was my duel not good enough? Did I not impress anyone at all or was it something else? Or was Bellamy right? Her eyes remained on Charlotte. In the midst of it, she even noticed her spinning with Bellamy. Her face beaming as she laughed with him. Lorraine began to imagine herself on that floor dressed as the others and with the Duke. They’d laugh just like that, and she’d go off to court like everyone else.
“How was your talk with Lord Van Diest?” Lorraine asked.
Simon set his hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine. Just business with the Chasseurs.”
Lorraine nodded. She wished his words had soothed her, but she still picked at her nails and looked around. Why had no one asked her to dance yet? David had made it seem like he would do so. She twisted around trying to see where he might be, but all she saw was Vivienne in the courtyard. She was laughing with her servants and a party of noblemen around her. All of them staring at her. At them. 
David.
They stood close to each other. Her arm laced around his. Simon turned with her as she saw. He bent down towards her.
“Win this,” he said.
It was the secondary part of being a sorcerer she was taught upon. Poise, elegance, and most of all politics. She’d yet to truly exercise this aspect of her future role. If she wanted to win the apprenticeship though, David’s approval of her was needed. 
She crossed into the courtyard past nobles and on the greenery to where they stood. David’s face brightened upon seeing her.
“Oh, don’t you look divine! Everyone, may I present, Donatien Châtelaine’s daughter, Lorraine Châtelaine,” he announced.
She curtsied and when she rose up, the sky was beautiful. The sunset matched the princesses fuchsia and purple gown. The silk shinning in the light and favored her well. It was rather unfair. Such beauty would only be given to someone so undeserving. She wondered how Orelda thought it right. The princess sighed.
“What do you want?” she asked.
Lorraine tensed. Do I ask? Or do I ignore her? No, I can’t ignore a royal in front of all these people? All their eyes were upon her. She feigned a smile.
“Lord Van Deist, I saw your lovely painting of my father. You’ve captured his likeness well. For that I thank you. It’s an honor to see it today,” she said. “I’ve always hoped to one day be just like him.”
David nodded. “He was a friend of my mother, so she requested it’s making. She was lucky enough to have seen that final battle.”
“It’s a shame how he died. For someone so brave, he died a cowards’ death,” Vivienne muttered.
Lorraine wanted to slap her. “In Orlogne, we believe there is an honor in choosing the terms of your life. Whatever he fought, he held his head high.”
The princess cocked her head. 
“You think you will?”
“I pray I will.”
“Do you plan to follow in his footsteps, my dear,” a voice asked beside her.
She looked to the nobleman beside her.
“No, my brother has followed the Order, but I plan to carve my own path. There is room for more greatness in my house.”
“A little abode, I hear. Just you and your brother, am I correct?” Vivienne asked.
She was smiling. Her lips pursed while David glowered at her. “The Châtelaines are a fine family. Their blood refined and powerful. Her father ended an era like none other. Tragedy takes it’s toll even on our greatest heroes. You would speak about him with an ilk of respect.”
Lorraine felt her heart fluttered. For so long while she was here, nobody even dared to say a word back at Vivienne. The princess’s nostrils flared, and she glowered at Lorraine. She righted herself. She walked through everyone and grasped Lorraine by her shoulder. Whilst they were alone in the ballroom, Vivienne held her firm by her shoulders.
“Who do you think you are?” she snapped.
Lorraine righted her shoulders. She wasn’t sure. 
“That’s my apprenticeship. You could have any.”
“No, you could have any. I need this.”
Lorraine bit her lip. “What did I ever do to you?”
The princess scoffed.
“What did you do? Are you serious?” she said.
Vivienne came close to her.
“You could have anything you wanted. Me… I can’t. So why are you doing this to me?”
“When haven’t you gotten what you wanted?”
“What are you talking about!”
Vivienne began laughing as she pointed out towards the dancing people. Lorraine turned back seeing in the crowd that Simon was watching. He danced with Professor De Pizan and turned his back but his eyes followed for as long as they could. When Lorraine turned back to Vivienne, she shook her head.
“Why should I presume you understand? I mean, granted your birth and you blood. It would be impossible,” she said.
I wouldn’t understand what? I think I understand enough. This bitch… Lorraine took a deep breath.
“It’s just an apprenticeship. You could have any that you want. Why take this from me?”
“No! It is more than that. If you had the chance to be truly powerful you wouldn’t even know what to do with it. What it meant. Yet, it’s getting handed to you. For what? What do you have that I… Why should he choose you.”
“Because I’ve earned it.”
“Have you now?”
The princess came close then. Her pale eyes wide and her lips twitching upward. She was smiling then. She grasped Lorraine by her shoulder and then put a hand to her face. Gentle almost like how Charlotte might comfort her.
“I know it must be hard for you to understand the way of things here, but I need you to know that just because your father was the exception… it doesn’t mean you are,” Vivienne said. The princess swept a hair behind her ear and stepped back. “Do you understand me now? You can dress like us, talk like us, and pretend you are one of us… but don’t you see, you’ll never be like us. You are nothing more than a chevragin. He sees you alone as an Orlognian whore.”
For a moment, madness must have caught her. She swung her hand into Vivienne’s cheek. The slap was deafening, and she couldn’t believe what she’d done. Lorraine was breathless. She panted at first. She stepped back. Her chest tightening as she glanced around. 
“Oh god. I—“ she almost cried. No, I can’t do this here. Not here. She wiped her eyes and rushed out. She went back into the ballroom and no sooner her shoulder brushed into someone. No sooner glasses of wine broke and scattered onto the floor. Lorraine’s eyes widened. Tears welling up in her eyes at all the red wine on the white and black floor. She glanced up and Simon was headed her way. Everyone’s eyes were on her. 
She looked into the crowd and amongst them, she saw that Vivienne was smiling holding her cheek. Her hands already placed back on David. Her fan placed over her face. Lorraine saw the Duke then. His silvery eyes wide, and he grimaced at her. His brows furrowed like he was disgusted. Fuck. Lorraine turned to Simon. Concern covered his face.
She twisted away and dashed out of the ballroom as fast as she could. There wasn’t a destination in mind. Just anywhere but there.

Lorraine nearly screamed. In the library, she hid away charging down aisles of old weathered books to behind the librarian’s desk. On her knees, she screamed into her palms. When that did nothing to assure her, she grumbled and nearest book shelf and punched the wood screaming. Hot tears went down her face. She breathed in tightly.
“Fuck!” she snapped.
Lorraine pressed her forehead against the wood grain. With a soft touch on her necklace, Roiternay’s shadowy paws landed onto her shoulder. His head pressed into hers and she pet it. Humiliating! I ought to toss myself at Morana. Death it is! Lorraine wanted to punch anything near her.
“What are we to do?” she sobbed. “I’m so fucking stupid! I should have burned that witch to a crisp. Shouldn’t I have?”
And the word she’d used: Chevragin. It was akin to a ewe’s nethers. What soldiers had called Orlognian women upon arriving there. No one dared call her it before Simon. Not Vivienne though. When Lorraine glanced to Roiternay, he gave her an unbothered look. His head perked up and nose twitched. When his ears flattened and eyes widened, he dashed before she could react. 
“Roiternay!” Lorraine whispered.
She picked herself up running after him. They trailed to a corner where curtains swayed in the moonlight. To a corner they went and suddenly, it was near blinding. A man stood barely dressed in a small corner of the library. Only his trousers saved him his dignity. Lorraine gawked at him stunned. Not only that, he reeked of ale. He stumbled nearly as he pulled on a black boot.
“Fuck,” he cursed in Riegar.
She turned away. “Sorry! I didn’t see anything!”
Lorraine went around the bookshelf. What in the world was he doing? Why is he shirtless? She covered her face. The day couldn’t end any sooner. If she had any sense, she would have gone to her bed and slept. She slammed her head back against the books. When it hurt, she felt stupid for that too.
“What are you doing?” she asked aghast.
She glanced behind her. The stranger pulled on a blouse as she impulsively scanned him. He was athletic and his pale skin freckled over. When he stared at her, it made her jump. His eyes, they were mismatched green and dark brown. Lorraine wanted to look away, but couldn’t. They were mesmerizing.
“I’m a student here,” he said.
She scoffed. “No you aren’t.”
“Then you have poor observation. That’s on you.”
“Why are you half undressed?”
He laughed suddenly. He bit his lip and shrugged. “I don’t know. I never really know.”
“Ugh, you’re not supposed to be back here. The High Sorcerer, my mentor mind you, isn’t fond of intruders.”
He scoffed. “But you’re in here with me? Just pretend I was invisible, and that you didn’t see me. That sounds like a just plan.”
Lorraine laughed as he put on a plain green vest and then some Havlanish overcoat with folk embroidery.
“Invisible?” she asked. “That’s the excuse you’d have me use.”
She spotted Roiternay slinking behind the intruder towards his purse. His paw stretching out slowly to yank it open. His white eyes wide as he curled his paw to grab coins. She clicked her tongue, and he scurried away. The intruder turned around.
“Fuck! What is that?” he snapped.
“Just a matagot?”
“Just a what?”
“A matagot.” 
Lorraine hoisted Roiternay off the floor, and he was turning his head away from her. Oh, don’t give me that look. She turned back to the intruder as he went around her. She seized his arm and felt strong muscle through the fabric. He turned back to her.
“You’ve yet to answer my question. State your business here? Sneaking like a thief through a window.”
“You don’t need to know.”
“I want to know.”
“You can want all you want, but you don’t need to so good—”
The doors sprang open, and she released him as soon as she spotted Charlotte. Bellamy followed on her heels.
“Did you really slap her?” Charlotte asked. 
Lorraine thought her head might burst. She took a deep breath.
“It was shameful,” she admitted.
“Well, Lord Van Diest is looking for you, and Vivienne’s been talking his ear off. You need to hurry!”
Charlotte swept into the room quickly and grasped Lorraine by her arm. As she went to leave, the man grasped her arm. She swiped her arm free.
“David’s here?” he asked.
Lorraine raised a brow. 
“You know him?” she asked.
Considering his clothes, she didn’t take him for a member of the upper echelon of society. Then his accent. He sounded nearly Orlognian which if he was, she doubted it still. She knew her people well enough. They’d dress for an occasion aptly. He looked as though he hadn’t even tried.
“Yes. Where is he?” the man said.
Charlotte locked her arm with his and tugged them together then.
“So since you’re a friend of Van Deist, you are beholden to all our questions. I won’t rest till assured my dear Lorraine isn’t going into a rake’s hands ill prepared!” Charlotte said boisterously.
“You’re courting him!” the boy snapped aghast.
What would be so wrong with that? Lorraine thought. It wasn’t that serious though. All the nobleman had done was heal her. That wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of romantic trysts or meetings. She wasn’t so easily charmed either. She expected what any woman should from a man. Chivalry, plenty of attention, and plenty of gifts.
“Why? Is he married?” Charlotte pried.
“Charlotte, I’m not courting anyone,” Lorraine whispered.
“You should. He’s the most eligible bachelor in the empire. Rich, handsome, young, and don’t forget, a sorcerer. You can’t let Fontaine get everything. Plus, imagine being a duchess.”
They waded through the crowd with the intruder nearly tripping away. Charlotte kept him upright though, and she posted both of them before paintings lined together on easels. She clasped her hands together then and said: “Wait here, I’ll fetch him.”
She vanished into the dancing crowd and gathered cliques. They stood in silence. The air was spritzed with perfumes. A haze wafted with candle smoke and the floral smells mixing with wine and sweat. She looked to the intruder. He stuck out like poured wine on a white blouse. The intruder met with her gaze. He grimaced.
“Are you seriously courting David Van Diest?”
“No, I was just looking for him,” Lorraine said. 
The intruder nodded. “In the library?”
She rolled her eyes. Exhaustion waned on her mind. She couldn’t even cry in peace.
“Why?” he asked.
She laughed sweeping her hair behind her ear. That alone wouldn’t fix what she imagined was a mess of her appearance. The tears practically ruined her face. Then the head hitting and picking her nails. She went from refined to a mess in seconds. 
“Maybe I’ll say if you tell me why were you sneaking in the library?” she asked.
“I just flew to that window. I didn’t even know it was a library,” he said.
From the fact that he ‘flew’, she presumed he was an Allar sorcerer. They specialized in the dialect of alteration and could alter their own bodies and objects. 
“What did you fly as?” she asked.
He smirked. “A falcon, and I presume you're a Cossar sorcerer. Considering that beastly thing of yours.”
She nodded. The dialect allowed her plenty of things. She could take what preexisted and transport it to herself. That and travel through elder. Controlling beasts was an art in and of itself. When she summoned, the scale between her elder and theirs would determine if they’d obey, or she would have to make a contract for it’s obeisance. 
“What is you’re other dialect?” she asked.
“Vocar, and you?”
Vocar specialized in invoking power. It used the elder like a candle to it’s wick. Once it was burned away it could not be used again, but in return, she saw a great many make lightning storms, ice out of thin air, and fire great enough to light a whole sky. As for her answer, it was Morar.
“Morar.” 
It was the dialect of spirit. It was restricted for obvious means. It was the one prone to most necromancy. 
He laughed. “I wouldn’t have guess that.”
“Excuse me.”
“No, it’s just you look like most of these girls. A little cheap, a bit frivolous. No offense. So I’m surprised.”
Cheap. As though he looked any better than her. He extended his hand out to her. She shook his hand.
“I’m Klaus… de Corrais,” he said with little confidence.
She squinted her eyes. His name is Klaus of Corray? She never heard of a Klaus that deep in the Corterre’s country with an accent akin to an Orlognian or a borderland Corterchman. 
“Are you sure about that?” she asked.
“Well, what is your name?”
“Lorraine Châtelaine.”
He paled. “A Châtelaine?”
She nodded. He pointed at her and she began to grin a little. How far would he actually go? She rubbed her arms looking to the ceiling above her. In the frescoes above there were vast paintings of water nixes and sirens. Watery creatures above with pearls and seashells.
“Are you any good? I hear Cossar is a difficult dialect,” he said.
Lorraine glowered at him. “I’m better than most.”
“Really?”
He began to giggle again as a servant swept by, and he grasped two wine cup. He took a deep breath.
“I am too, but I felt extraordinarily lazy today. Is that monster thing yours?”
She raised a brow. He’s never seen a matagot, and he’s supposedly from Corray? She wondered where this man even came from. Perhaps he wandered in. He is drunk. Lorraine glanced to the shadows where Roiternay hid. He came free and made way onto her shoulder. She presented him and Klaus reached his knuckles forward towards his mouth.
“He’s a rebellious beast. I’m surprised he hasn’t caused a disaster. Rather it’s been me.”
“You should be proud. This would be rather dull instead. I can make it more disastrous if you tell me where David is?”
She laughed. The crowd looking nothing like a disaster. All of Simon’s spells decorating the sky, attendees dancing, and the air smelling like perfume and sweat. It looked like all Lorraine ever wanted. Yet, she was still to the side. It was much she was asking. All she wanted was to dance with the rest. 
“True, but I’ve never been fond of disaster.”
“I can relate.”
She turned towards him. “Really? How so? You come here saying that despite you are a student you didn’t know that it was the library and you say your from Corray when matagots originate there. Did you know that?”
Lorraine thought he’d respond, but his countenance paled. Nearly like he saw a ghost. His jaw clenched and fists balled. Was it something that she said. His eyes were looking past her though. She twisted behind her and jolted when she saw how close David was to her.
“Are you alright?” David asked.
“No, I’m fine. I was just talking to Mr…” she turned, and he was already gone.
Her chest sunk wondering where he’d slipped off too. Charlotte slid to her side grasping her arm. 
“Oh, he left?”
David raised a brow. “Who?”
Lorraine didn’t know what to say. Feeling nice, she refrained from sharing.
“You were looking for me?” she asked.
Behind him, Charlotte motioned for her to smile. Lorraine felt unnatural as she did it. She sniveled. David nodded.
“May we go somewhere private?” he asked.
Her breath caught. Whatever came next, she would accept it with grace. Even if it meant today would end horribly.