Crown of Bones

Whiskey

Water.

She was in the water.

Paralyzed with fear, Lucy felt herself sinking into the dark depths of the water. The tendrils of it dragged her below, into the nothingness.

Her hand reached out above her, asking, no, begging for help. Her hair swept in front of her face as the water slowly, painstakingly, almost mockingly held her captive. The bubbles that spilled from her nose and mouth rose above her face like fairies, dancing in the gloom.

Dying...

Lucy gasped as she shook herself awake. She sat there, shaking, trying to recover her senses. Noticing the spilled water and the misplaced cup, Lucy relaxed. Just a bad dream. Pushing her hair back, Lucy noticed the sweat dripping down her neck. and realized she was soaked in it. She grabbed her hand towel, but while drying herself she checked the time. It was 2:00 am. Damnit. She had been sleeping for six hours.

Knowing she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, Lucy crept out of her room without a sound. In her white gown and still pale face, it's likely the guards would have mistaken her for a ghost. As she glided down the staircase, she ran her dream over and over in her mind. When was the last time she had dreamed about drowning?

Without noticing it, Lucy had walked to Jon's room. Somehow she knew he wouldn't be sleeping. She hesitated, and was lifting her hand to knock when she heard Jon say, "Come in, Lucy."

Startled, she pushed open the door.

Jon was sitting at his desk, with a tumbler of single-malt whiskey at his fingertips. With the background of books and elegant music playing, Jon looked every bit a successor. Lucy gulped nervously and walked her way over towards him. "I thought you'd come sooner or later. We are similar, Lucy."

"Jon, are you drunk?"

"Only a little bit. Only enough to numb the thoughts."

Lucy strode over and seized the glass. "Jon, how many of these have you had?" "Give that back!" shouted Jon angrily.

"Jon, we can't have you drunk. You're our future king!"

Jonathen laughed bitterly, then unsteadily made his way over to his collection of alcohol. "Want one? As the fourth in line, you have no reason to not have any. Eh, little sis?"

Lucy flushed. "I - I've never tasted alcohol. I'm not 20."

"Want a taste? It's good - expensive. Dad gave them to me last year. Came from all over the country. Lavsania, Ackerton, even Chartecues. As much as I love Rentele, we make terrible liquor."

"Jon, we can't be drinking. It's not...proper. What if Finigan caught us?"

Jon barked out a laugh. "That old geezer would probably join us. He was the closest friend Dad had. Maybe that's why Dad made him Head of Castle Security."

"Well, the old geezer is requesting our presence at a meeting tomorrow. And at least one of us has to show up sober. Also, it's 2 am. Get some sleep, Jon."

"Aw, you're leaving already? Man, guess I'll have to get Rosalie in here. She'll drink with me."

Lucy whirled around. "Rosalie will. Hell, I bet she'll even bring some guards with her, the little slut. I-"

"Lucy! Enough! I know what she did, but that's no reason to degrade her like that. Rosalie is a good person. At least she's trying-"

"To do what? Get my approval so she can be some Baroness with oodles of money?"

Jon sighed, then stood up. "Lucy, I invited you in here so we could talk, have a few drinks, discuss. Not to bicker over Rosalie."

"You're drunk. I'll see you tomorrow." With a twirl and a flick of her wrist, Lucy smashed a bottle of his whiskey.

"HEY! What was that for?"

"Stop drinking. We need you sober."

Lucy flounced out of the room and slammed the door. She was shaking again, but this time from rage. What did he think he was doing, drinking? He had a kingdom to run. And then the business with Rosalie. How dare he? The nerve of her brother.

Storming up the stairs, Lucy wiped away tears. She should have known this would happen. Jon, Rosalie, Nic, could never take this type of trauma. But they had to. Jon had too. Otherwise, they were screwed. She would talk to Finigan, he could straighten Jon out.

As she approached her room, Lucy felt the exhaustion return. She yanked the door open, but it was stuck. Cursing, she hit the door, kicked it even, but it wouldn't open.

Dammit.

Checking her watch, she could tell it was already 3. That meant the staff would be up in an hour. She couldn't wake them up yet.

Scouting the doorframe, she noticed the source of the jam. There was a small blade, quite like a razor sticking out of the doorframe. She dislodged it and gave it a closer look. It was old, with rust covering most of its surface. She noticed, however, a small symbol on its front. It looked rather like a bear, with a sword through its head.

Huh, she thought. The door opened easily now, so she went inside. Lucy set the blade on her dresser, and for the second time, curled on the bed. She was exhausted again, and she had the damn meeting tomorrow.

Lucy closed her eyes and braced for the day to arrive.