Ladies, Lords, & Liars

Chapter Thirteen: A Rest

   The night passed more quickly than he ever could have hoped. A few times, someone would attempt a conversation with him, but none of them seemed very interested in him after a few sentences of conversation, which were mainly consisting of small talk anyway. Thankfully, he could very much so pull off small talk.

The only people in the room that seemed to really like him from what he could tell were the queen, and the chubby lord sitting next to him.

   The dinner ended with a full course of desserts. Aeric could hardly stuff any down after eating such a full plate of food for dinner, but he didn't want to be impolite, or accidentally fall out of the favor of Lord Handel.

   After the king and queen got up and left, everyone else stood up and began to mingle around again like they had been doing when Aeric first walked in. And another thing, they were all in the same groups as before. There were obviously subcategories among the nobles, though he wasn't sure how the lines had been drawn.

   Lord Handel was among a group of very snobby looking individuals with pinched faces and frilly clothing, very unlike Handel's open smile and relatively subdued attire. He seemed like the only other sensible person in the room, actually.

   That was two sane people he'd met so far. Lord Handel and Ryall the gardener. Neither of them were what he'd typically call normal, but at least they weren't as strange as the rest of them. Everything was strange in the palace.

   One thing that wasn't strange, however, was the fact that literally everyone was off talking in groups now, which left Aeric in the perfect position to slip out and escape back to his room. He went completely unnoticed, as far as he could tell.

   When he arrived, he sank into a chair and pretty much stared into the fire until he was tired enough to go to bed, at which point he changed into the ridiculous nightclothes they'd given him. He went to lay in bed, but he sank so far into the mattress and pillows that he knew he would never get to sleep. The couch seemed much more like his bed at home, so he grabbed one of the silk-soft blankets from the bedroom and went out to the main sitting area of his room to lie on the couch instead.

   His plan actually worked much better than he ever would have hoped, and he was asleep within what seemed like minutes. It might have been longer, but he was too exhausted to do any counting. So he didn't.

***********

   When he woke up the next morning, he was sure it was for a reason. His eyelids felt sticky, and he could feel a headache forming behind his eyes. He rubbed his face and sat up, detangling himself from the blanket that had somehow managed to entwine itself around his legs and torso.

   A knock on the door subsequently made him jump and realize that there had been a reason for his sudden waking. Whoever was knocking had probably been at the door for a while, so he quickly jumped up and went to answer it.

   He only realized once the door was open that he looked almost laughable in the frivolous sleepwear.

   "Oh, your highness! I didn't realize you weren't awake yet. I can leave and come back a bit later if you wish." He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought the girl in front of him might be one of the ones that had greeted him when he first arrived.

   "No, it's perfectly fine. What is it that you need?" he blinked, trying to clear the fog from his head as well as he could.

   "Well, the queen said that you've been looking very tired, so she wanted me to pass on the message that you should take the day to rest. She said that a tour of the city had been planned, but that your health was more important." She seemed to be listing the details of her message off in her head as she said them, clearly trying not to forget anything by the screwed-up look of concentration on her face.

   "Rest sounds lovely. Would you tell her that I said thanks?" he yawned. "Or- thank you, rather."

   "Er, yes. I'll do that, your highness." She curtsied and then turned and waddled down the hall. Now that he was more awake, he could see that the woman was much older than the two that had first welcomed him, and thicker around the waist than either of them had been.

   He closed the door and sighed. Just the thought of having the day off was enough to make it feel like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. He could collect his thoughts and maybe get a bit more sleep in. He didn't know what he would do about meals, but whatever he did, he was certainly very opposed to going down to the dining room for another session of watching everyone else talk while he sat and stuffed himself.

   He sighed again as he pushed himself from the door to return to bed. He might as well try for at least another hour while he was still a bit groggy from waking up. It was the easiest thing to do, for now.

    But as he laid in bed with the covers on, trying to get to sleep, he tossed and turned and eventually became too hot. He shoved the blankets to the end of the bed and tried to sleep like that, but the last chill of spring was still holding the land, and despite the fire roaring in the other room, he soon got chilly.

    He grabbed the blankets again and covered himself before lying down once more, only to lay there, thoughts flashing through his head so fast he almost couldn't think them before another took their place, just like that. He would never get to sleep at this rate.

   He sat up and looked around in an absolute lack of anything better to do.

   The walls were dark wood, probably something he'd never heard of from up the mountain, or imported from some far off land. Either way, it was a pretty color with grains of a lighter shade of brown. All of the walls seemed to be either made of this strange dark wood or of the pretty blue stone from the mountain. And everything from decorations to curtains was built and made specifically to accent those two things, from what he saw. Deep reds and silver were the primary colors in the room, other than the coarse brown of the wood.

   He took a deep breath. He wondered why he was able to focus so well on scrutinizing his room when he wasn't even able to attempt sleeping. He would much rather be doing the latter.

   A few minutes later, he'd completely exhausted whatever entertainment he might have gotten from observing his room, so he rolled out of bed and went to put together an outfit. He just hoped he was putting things on right and using the right color schemes for the position of the moon— or whatever bizarre reason the nobles wore what they did. He'd never been very great at fashion, and the clothes from the palace were far more elaborate than anything he'd ever worn. There was a whole section in the wardrobe of little swatches of cloth that he had no idea the use for. Were they neckties or sashes or what? He didn't know and he wasn't about to risk it.

   A clock chimed loudly, nearly making him jump out of his skin. Where was the clock? He hadn't noticed one, and from the sound of it, it had been much closer than the one at the end of the hall.

   He peeked his head out from the room and looked around. After a while, he finally realized there had been a clock on the mantle the whole time, and he'd just never realized it. It couldn't be new... could it? The ornate face and immaculately carved hands read ten o'clock.

   He shook his head and resumed the arduous process of finding something to wear, eventually settling on the plainest clothes he could find. It looked like it might be intended to be used as nothing more than an undershirt for one of the more flamboyant outfits, but he was fine with that. He wouldn't be caught dead in all those frills and puffy things that he had no idea how to fasten or attach. He didn't see why they didn't just wear plain shirts and pants like sensible people. It was much simpler.

   After dressing, he went into the sitting room and found the book he'd been reading and picked up where he left off. He let his mind wander as his eyes mindlessly scanned the pages. He heard the clock chime a few times, but the sounds blended in with his thoughts, and he hardly noticed.

   The next time he looked up, the clock read two-thirty.

   He'd spent more than four hours doing pretty much nothing. His day off was going to be shorter than he would have liked.