The Lady Knight
I stood up on my toes and surveyed all those gathered around me.
Excitement and anticipation hung in the air, and hushed whispers saturated the atmosphere. Enveloped in such a highly-charged environment, I counted all those who were gathered, mouthing the numbers to myself.
Six, including myself. We were missing one more.
I scowled, annoyed. Who was it that was late? Did I not specify clearly that I needed everyone to return at 06 00 hours sharp?
"Diana has yet to return," Marguerite piped up helpfully beside me, noticing my expression, "I am certain she will be here soon."
"Where is she?" I frowned, "it is almost time. If she does not come soon, all our planning last night might go down the drain."
"Do not fret so much, Julie," the Prince, who was slouching on my right, yawned as he rubbed his eyes, "calm down."
I stared at him, mystified. "Why do you look as if you have not slept for days at end, Your Royal Highness?"
"None of us had any sleep last night, fireball," he grumbled, "you had to keep a briefing session at midnight, did you not? You and your payback. At times, I wonder why I even put up with you at all."
"I am not forcing you to come, and neither am I begging you to put up with me, Your Royal Highness," I shot back, "and I am not a fireball! Why do you insist -"
"Neither of you are much of a morning person, then," Camille cut in, rolling her eyes.
Before we could retort, a gust of wind slapped our faces as a blur of blue passed us. "Everything is good and ready to go," Diana skidded to a stop in front of us, beaming widely.
"Thank goodness," Camille muttered, "a war would have broken out had you come any later."
The Prince shot her a glare, as I ignored her and faced the rest.
"All right, everyone, silence." I commanded, clapping my hands together softly to catch their attention.
All chatter died down at once, as they looked to me expectantly. I gazed around at them, clasping my hands behind my back.
The moment I had told Camille of my intentions at the Ball three days ago, she had not hesitated to rally the whole lot of them - Marguerite, Diana, in addition to Anna's and Sophie's younger brother Joseph, and Diana's older brother Carl.
Then there was Camille herself, the Prince and me.
The seven of us, ranging from ages sixteen to twenty-three, currently had a common goal - to put Andrew in his place once and for all. We had sat down in my study right after the Ball three days ago and mapped out how we were going to go about it.
Clearly, there was no time to waste.
Anna, Sophie and Frances would have joined us, I was certain, had Anna not taken to bed on the Ball night with fever like I had predicted. Sophie and Frances were taking care of her, and though they had assured me that Anna would recover soon, I did not think so.
For the first time that day, I had seen Anna truly defeated, and that worried me. Her illness was in her mind, not in her body. Until she stopped tormenting herself over Andrew's words, I doubted she would get well soon.
I sincerely hoped that what we were about to do would help her recover.
And of course, Andrew was going to get what he deserved at last.
"Dare I assume you know the plan to the very last detail?" I questioned.
"Aye."
"Everything has been kept in the correct places, and all of you are ready to take your positions?"
"Aye."
"Well then," I cracked a grin, "have a good time and make me proud!"
They burst out laughing, careful to keep their voices low.
"I cannot believe you initiated this, Jules," Carl joked, shaking his head, "Camille, are you certain that this is the real Lady Knight?"
"Aye," Camille laughed, "you should have seen her face when she suggested this idea at the Ball that day."
"How was it like?" Joseph leaned forward, intrigued.
"Absolutely...evil," she paused for dramatic effect, "like a true troublemaker. She may make Anna proud yet."
"If you have finished discussing about me right before me," I rolled my eyes, "let us begin."
"Your Royal Highness, wake up!" Joseph whispered suddenly, "it is time!"
The Prince jerked awake from his rather awkward position. He had apparently dozed off on Joseph's shoulder, who was half a head shorter than he was. He looked around at us blearily, his eyes unfocused.
By God, his sluggishness could cause the whole plan to fail! Timing was essential in such schemes.
"Your Royal Highness," I tilted my head, raising my eyebrow, "you may return to bed if you wish. No one is forcing you to stay." I stared straight at him, challenging him to agree with my words.
The ruse worked. The Prince was a stubborn man by nature.
"Nay, I am here out of my own accord," he answered stiffly, "I will stay."
Everyone sniggered under their breaths, as I turned to Joseph. "You know what to do," I nodded, "the tea tray is by the vase table opposite Andrew's bedchamber. Leave before the tea becomes cold."
"Aye, my Lady Knight," he saluted.
"Operation Fireball has begun," the Prince smirked, tossing an amused glance in my direction.
I glared at him, infuriated. He had insisted on naming the operation in return for the favour he was doing me by helping me with this.
Although, it was hardly a favour. He stood to gain from this as much as I did, if not more.
"All the best, everyone," Joseph chuckled.
Whispers of best wishes from the others followed his words, as he hurried off silently towards Andrew's bedchamber.
"All of you better take your places as well," I smiled slightly, "I cannot believe I am saying this, but it is payback time."
***
Lord Joseph of Rortaine: Operation Fireball, Phase 1
"Brother-mine?" I tapped gently on my brother's shoulder, adopting an overly subservient tone, "it is dawn. Here is your mint-honey tea."
I hated doing this. However, I had been forced to do so every morning since that day - that fateful, hateful, horrible day when Andrew had discovered that I was learning steed fighting at the Corporals' training centre in Rortaine, without Anna's knowledge.
It was such an interesting sport, but Anna was of the opinion that it was too dangerous. At first, I had only wanted to try it, but I grew to love it very much.
Enough to continue learning the sport behind her back.
Unfortunately for me, Andrew had caught me training one day, and he threatened to tell Anna all about it if I did not obey his every word from that day forth.
And it was from that day that my slavery to the high and mighty Andrew had begun.
One of my duties was to bring him mint and honey tea at 06 00 hours sharp every morning in his bed. Throughout the day, I had to complete his every chore and fulfil his every whim with a smile on my face, as if I were his personal manservant.
However, because of Jules' brilliant plan, all that was going to change today.
He yawned now, turning over as he sleepily opened his eyes, his vision focusing. He instantly scowled when he realised it was me.
What a pleasant start to a new day! It was all I could do to keep my face neutral.
"It is about time you came, you little weasel," he grumbled, scooting up to a sitting position to lift the tea cup from the tray I was holding, "what time is it?"
I shot a quick glance at my timepiece. "It is a quarter past six in the morning."
"A quarter past six?" his eyes bulged, "you are to bring me my tea at six in the morning exactly! Did you oversleep again, you worthless idiot?"
I am the worthless idiot? I wanted to laugh, says the man who cannot not even complete his own chores and needs to blackmail his younger brother into doing them for him.
"Nay, Brother-mine," I shook my head, putting on a pensive expression, "the tea took a little longer than usual to boil. I am sorry I am late."
He could not find fault with my tone or expression. He narrowed his eyes, suspicious. Usually, I would burst out at him whenever he called me a worthless idiot.
I swiftly arranged my features into a scowl. "You may want to drink that before it gets cold," I snapped at him, "I do not have all day."
He grinned, satisfied. "However, you have to wait all day if I wish it, brother dearest," he hissed softly, "because I can tell Sister-mine about your training anytime I want to."
My fists clenched, but I forced myself to stand still, as I counted down the moments in my head.
Three.
He lifted the cup to his lips.
Two.
He slowly sipped the tea, taking care to taste every drop.
One.
His face morphed into a disgusted, menacing scowl.
"Ew!"
He dropped the cup at once, spilling the tea all over his night robes, revolted. "What did you put in my tea, you -"
Before he could finish, I swiftly emptied the whole pot of tea on his head, and burst out laughing, as the stench of dog urine began to saturate the air in the room.
"Smelly brother dearest, I would suggest you wash up soon. You are beginning to stink up the entire Manor," I smirked and sprinted out, hearing him leap out of bed and chase me out of the room.
Operation Fireball, Phase 1, completed.
***
The Lady Knight: Operation Fireball, Phase 2
"Joseph Matthew Borealis! I will murder you, you bloody - "
The sound of a tea cup shattering on the marble floor pierced through the silence at dawn.
"Bathe first, brother dearest! Even the Lord of Death would be repelled by you at the moment!" I heard Joseph yell gleefully.
That is my cue, then, I thought, as I peeked out from the corner I was hiding in.
Joseph was speeding towards me from the end of the corridor, grinning widely with satisfaction. I gave him a thumbs-up, before I hurried towards the bathing chamber at the other end of the corridor to begin Phase 2.
Careful to make no noises as I turned the doorknob of the bathing chamber door, I crept inside and shut the door behind me gently. Wrapping my coat tighter around myself, I rummaged in my pockets for a matchbox, cursing the weather all the while.
If afternoons and evenings were cold, then nightfall and dawn were simply freezing. There was a time in my childhood when I could not wait for the winter season to come, so that I could skate on the ice, make snow angels and throw snowballs at Max.
However, at the moment, I dearly wished for it to end.
Fumbling with the matchbox, I lit a candle to see my way through the darkness.
When my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I blinked rapidly, allowing my vision to focus.
And what I saw nearly made me drop the candle in shock.
The Prince was seated atop the stone counter top of the sink with his head between his knees, like a demon child, slowly rocking back and forth. He did not seem to have noticed me enter the bathroom.
What was he doing here?
"Your Royal Highness, why are you here? You are supposed to be with Carl in the gardens at the moment," I hissed, tapping his shoulder, "why do you take such pleasure in frightening me unnecessarily?"
His head snapped up, and his grey eyes were bloodshot with terror. Beads of sweat covered his forehead like a shiny layer.
I frowned, puzzled. What in the world was wrong with him?
Before I could question him on it, he quickly masked his expression to one of wry amusement, and his lips formed their usual smirk. "I should be asking you that," he teased, "whatever do you mean by barging into the bathing chamber like this? What if I were really using the chamber pot instead of merely waiting to see Andrew suffer?"
"Well, Monsieur Waiting-to-see-Andrew-suffer, your beloved Andrew is moments away from opening this door," I threw my hands up in exasperation, "look, I do not have time for your weird antics. You chose to come here, and so you shall stay."
Grabbing his hand, I blew out the candle and pulled him into a corner, behind the curtains that framed circumference of the huge bathtub in the centre of the room.
I squatted, and dragged the Prince down beside me none too gently.
"Ow! Julie, this is hardly a comfortable position, you are squashing me - " he struggled, but I clamped a hand over his mouth, as the door flung open with a loud bang.
I gritted my teeth. Why did Cavarriere people have no respect for doors?
"Damn that bloody idiot," Andrew stomped in, cursing, "out to make my life a misery. Wait until I get my hands on him..." He muttered a few more threats, as he threw back the curtains and stepped inside the bathtub.
It was good for us that he chose not to close the curtains once he was inside, as we had more folds of the curtain to hide behind without being discovered.
I turned away, and stared resolutely at the wall behind me, not wanting to see anything I should not be seeing.
The Prince shot me an amused glance, the corners of his lips twitching. I glared at him in return, sticking out my tongue, as I shivered rather badly due to the cold.
I waited and waited for the tap to be turned on with the usual groaning sound, but none came my way. I turned in bewilderment to the Prince, who had no qualms in looking towards the bathtub.
Why was Andrew not bathing yet?
The Prince removed my hand that was covering his mouth and leaned close to me. "He suspects," he murmured in my ear, "he is looking our way. Wait for a moment and dare not move."
With that, he wrapped one of his arms around my waist and pulled me further into the corner towards him, taking great care not to ruffle the curtains while doing so.
"Who is there? Reveal yourself!" Andrew's trembling voice was filled with anger and fear.
My heart sped up once more.
Were we going to be discovered this early in the prank? By God, I was such a horrible troublemaker! Why did I even go through with this in the first place?
I held my breath, waiting for Andrew's next move which I could not even see, let alone anticipate and counter it.
"Calm down," the Prince murmured tensely, his lips barely moving, as he tightened his grip on my waist and drew me closer to him.
The warmth radiating from him enveloped me almost at once, and I did not feel so cold any more. I was about to protest at being handled thus, when he gestured to me to keep silent, pointing to the window.
I frowned, confused. Whatever did he mean?
It was then that it struck me that he had pulled me away from the moonlight shining from the window.
The very moonlight, which had been casting shadows of us on the wall directly opposite the bathtub – shadows, that were cast within Andrew's range of vision.
I mentally slapped myself on the forehead. Why had I not realised the danger of shadows? They could have so easily given us away, had Andrew's eyesight been sharp enough.
"What is he doing?" I breathed.
"He is trying to peek behind the curtains," came the soft reply, "but he is too afraid to come here and actually see for himself. Calm down, Julie. At this rate, he will find us here by merely hearing your heart."
I felt his shoulders heave with silent sniggers, and his breath tickled the back of my neck.
At that precise moment, the fact that he was holding me much too close chose to come to the forefront of my mind, dispelling all other thoughts. My cheeks instantly burned, and instead of calming down, my heart merely thumped harder and faster.
I was certain that my face looked like a bright red tomato at the present, and I was glad that the Prince was unable to see my countenance.
Cease being such a ninny, Jules! I scolded myself, it is merely the Prince.
"Must be the dark playing tricks on my eyes again," I heard Andrew mutter, before the groaning sound of the tap I had been eagerly waiting for reverberated throughout the bathing chamber.
As the water thundered down on Andrew, drowning any other noises we might make, my shoulders sagged in relief.
"That was so close," I mumbled, "he could have so easily caught the either of us."
I felt the Prince relax beside me as well. "True. Indeed, the danger makes it all the more exciting, does it not? The fear and anticipation it creates," he enthused softly, his expression lighting up, "we should prank more often."
"Are you jesting?" I hissed, "this is the first and the last time I am ever pranking. It feels as if I may perish from shock within the next few moments."
His whole body shook with silent laughter at my incredulous expression, but he said nothing. Once again, I was made highly aware of the fact that he was holding me much closer than it was appropriate or necessary.
"And now that that is over and done with," I stared pointedly at his arm that still loosely hung around my waist, "you may release me."
"Oh, yes. Apologies," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, as he shuffled a little away from me.
From the waning moonlight, I noticed a slight, pink blush colour his cheeks.
Well, I noted with satisfaction, it is his turn to be embarrassed, in any case.
At that moment, a slow grin spread across his face. "Three."
I frowned, bewildered. "What-"
"Two...one...now!" he chuckled, as a great screech went up in the bathtub.
"Argh, my eyes!"
"Yes!" I cheered lowly, "has he has rubbed that soap bar on his face, then?"
The Prince nodded, his face pinched with silent laughter. "Oh, I do wish you would turn around and look, Julie," he grinned, "he is jumping up and down like a little child! Coating his soap bar with chilli powder was the best idea I have ever had. Come now, Julie, turn around!"
"Ow, ow, ow! Water, water, water, where is the water?" Andrew bellowed in the meanwhile, crying out in pain, "Joseph, you cretin, you are going to die by my hands!"
I laughed to myself, before responding to the Prince.
"I told you, Your Royal Highness, I am not going to see what I have no business seeing," I maintained stubbornly, "now that this phase of the plan has ended, I need you to -"
"Nay, my dear Julie," his dark grey eyes danced in mischief, "this phase has yet to end. Now watch me closely." With that, he stood up from our hiding place.
I turned around, shocked. "What are you doing -"
"Trust me," he shot me an impish smile, and crept directly towards Andrew.
I scowled after him, wanting to strangle the living daylights out of him.
Was he suicidal? Why in the world was he approaching the devil incarnate? He was going to give us away!
I watched, fuming and unable to stop him, as he reached into his pocket and fished out a small bottle, which was filled with a dark, murky liquid.
Holding it up, he continued creeping towards Andrew, who was desperately searching for the stream water from the tap, unable to see that it was quite a distance behind him.
Being temporarily blind, and in pain, it seemed our dear Andrew had been jumping up and down so violently, he had veered too far off from the tap for him to find it again.
It was a good thing that he had forgotten to take his nightclothes off while he 'bathed'. At least I did not need to worry about scarring my eyes for life.
The Prince, in the meanwhile, had opened the bottle and was pouring the murky liquid directly onto Andrew's outstretched hands slowly, somewhat equal to the rate of flow of water from the tap. Thinking that it was indeed water, Andrew eagerly cupped the liquid and brought it to his face.
Only to have his hands stuck firmly to his face!
"It burns! Arghhh!"
The Prince turned around to face me, winking, as I almost rolled on the ground with silent laughter. What a brilliant idea, using liquid wax!
I beckoned to him to come to me and handed him a small box. "Well done, Your Royal Highness," I smiled, "now, open the door, and pour the oil inside this box over the cross I have marked on the ground outside the bathing chamber. Then, join Carl in the gardens. He would need you soon enough. Good luck."
"Thank you," he grinned and hurried off to do as I told him to, taking care to open the door gently.
In the meantime, I kept my eyes on Andrew, waiting for him to make his next move. He continued searching for the tap rather desperately, still shouting out in pain.
As I had predicted, when he could not find the tap, he turned to the only option left to him. He leapt out of the bathtub and ran out, not even noticing the fact that the door was open when it was not supposed to be!
I jumped up from my hiding spot and rushed out behind him, in time to see him slip on the long path of oil that the Prince had trailed on the marble floor all the way to the main stairway of the Cavarriere Manor.
He began to skid and accelerate throughout the corridor, straight towards our next trap.
I leaned against the wall, satisfied.
Operation Fireball, Phase 2, complete.
***
Lady Camille of Cavarriere: Operation Fireball, Phase 3
"He is coming! Or should I say, he is gliding," Maggie rubbed her hands gleefully, as her eyes remained fixed on the gleaming silver tub above, "oh, when will he reach that tub?"
"Hush!" I shot her a look, "he must not know that there is a tub in front of him until he reaches the top of the stairs!"
"Nay, he will not. Look over there," she answered, pointing upwards.
I tilted my head, trying to see what she meant.
Truth be told, I had imagined that Andrew would be speeding over the oil, with his arms flailing in all directions, with a look of terror upon his face. At the moment, however, I could not even see his face, considering how tightly was he covering it with his hands.
"Why does he have his hands on his face?" I frowned, puzzled, "did Joseph do something else to him other than give him that tea?"
"I know not, but I care not," she threw back her head and laughed, "prepare yourself, it is our turn soon!"
She was right. I watched with grim satisfaction as Andrew tripped on the tub, and fell straight into its murky, smelly depths head first with a huge splash, yelling curse after curse.
And the poor, poor tub, which had been balanced rather precariously on the top step, toppled over.
Carrying Andrew with it, it began to accelerate down the stairs, jostling him vigorously to the extent that, although he had entered the tub head-first, he had been turned upright by the time he reached the middle of the stairway!
"Ew! Arghhh!! Ow! Ow!! Ow!!!"
He could now scream his lungs out, kick out his legs and spew out the sludge in the tub that he had accidentally swallowed - all except moving his hands.
Truly, I was surprised that everyone else in the Manor had yet to wake up from the ruckus he had been making since dawn.
When the tub was about to reach the bottom of the stairway, I glanced at Maggie.
"Open the front door! Now!" I urged her.
Nodding, she hurried off to the entrance of Cavarriere Manor and hauled open the front doors with a dramatic flourish.
Meanwhile, I stationed myself by the stairway, and as soon as the tub reached the ground, I pulled back my sleeves, picked up the brimming bucket of sludge beside me that I had collected from the farmhouse this morning, and emptied out all its contents on him.
"By God!" he shuddered, as the tub slowed down on the ground, "who was that? I swear, I will -"
I did not allow him to finish. I pushed him forward with all my might and as a result, the tub continued to speed across the threshold and straight out the front door, where Maggie bid him a cheerful 'bon voyage'.
From the front steps, the slippery sleet and the snow ensured the rest of his journey to the destination we had intended for him. Maggie and I exchanged victorious glances.
Operation Fireball, Phase 3, complete.
***
Crown Prince Nicholas of Monrique: Operation Fireball, Phase 4
During planning, we had thought that we may require signals in order to alert each other at the end of each phase, on when Andrew had left and would arrive next at our respective stations.
Whistles, thumbs-ups, duck calls, owl hoots - we had contemplated them all.
However, they proved to be completely unnecessary. He had been yelling so loudly all the way through the phases of the operation, that even I could hear him from where I was perched, on the second to the top branch of the huge apple tree in the gardens.
I had hoped that, with his hands stuck to his face, he would be able to yell a little softer and spare all our ears.
No such luck.
As a result, I could hear him coming even before I saw him, muddy, sticky and stinking, dumped inside the speeding tub.
"Joseph, Carl, take your places," I commanded, laughing at the piteous state of the malicious Corporal, "and Lady Diana, please hold on to your brother's shoulder and keep a tight hold on that stick."
"Yes, Your Royal Highness," Lady Diana saluted as best as she could while she was balanced precariously on the tree branch below mine, holding a very long stick that reached the tree base.
"Why is Andrew covering his face, Your Royal Highness?" Carl chuckled, as he took hold of the part of the rope below me, alongside his sister, "he is not so easily shamed."
"Mayhap this time is an exception," Joseph sniggered, as he climbed up onto the branch below Carl's and grabbed onto the dangling end of the rope.
"Nay, he did not have a choice in the matter," I smirked and proceeded to explain my stunt with the liquid wax.
"Your Royal Highness!" Lady Diana burst out, incredulous, "you did not!"
Carl and Joseph, however, burst out laughing. "Oh, it must have simply burned," Joseph whispered viciously, "good one, Your Royal Highness."
"Well, he is here," Lady Diana huffed, pointing to Andrew, "Your Royal Highness, lower the hook, please."
As Andrew came to a slow stop in front of the apple tree with the tub, I let down the rope, which was looped over the top branch of the apple tree, right over his back. Attached to the end of the rope was a huge, well-curved hook, which I now maneuvered to let it pierce through the relatively thick cloth of his now dirty night clothes.
"Joseph, Carl, pull now!" I ordered.
Sucking in a huge breath, I slammed my back against the tree trunk and pulled the rope with all the strength I had. The branch above me bent with Andrew's weight, but I was sure it would not snap. Apple tree branches were usually somewhat sturdy.
I could feel the effort put in by the two young men below, as we slowly lifted Andrew up by the hook.
He was yelling and kicking with all his might. "Put me down! Put me down, I say!"
"Good morrow, Andrew," I smiled slowly, deliberately, exactly as he usually did when he intended to hurt me with his words, "how are we enjoying this fine morning?"
He stopped struggling.
"Your Royal Highness?" he sounded hoarse from all that screaming, as he revolved with the wind to face me, "you? I thought Joseph..."
"We are all in this together," Carl chuckled, rolling his eyes.
I supposed I should be relieved that I could not see his face at the moment, for it must have been contorted into quite a horrific expression. I could infer it from the way the whole length of his neck turned dark red.
"I care not who did it! Put me down at once! Have you forgotten that I am a Corporal?" he ordered, trying to sound authoritative, "I swear, I could have you all punished for attacking me thus - "
"My dear Andrew, you are in no position to demand or order," Lady Diana's voice was soft, but laced with bitterness, "for once in your life, hold your tongue."
Andrew fell silent at once.
"Good," I grinned, "now, pull your hands away from your face. I want you to look at me when I talk to you."
"I cannot," came the muffled reply, "they are stuck to my face."
"So? Does that mean that you are going to cover your face for the rest of your pathetic existence? Grit your teeth, bear the pain and pull them off!"
He huffed and began to swing back and forth in the air, as he tried to pry his own hands away from his face. With a few mighty tugs, he ripped them free from his skin, leaving it blotchy red and muddy, with some dried bits of wax still stuck to it.
"Arghhhhh!" he screamed in pain.
"Quiet, Andrew!" Lady Diana hissed, "before you wake the whole duchy!"
He revolved once more and glared straight at her, a pair of baby blue eyes blinking at me from a muddy face. It was all I could do to keep myself from laughing again.
"Now that that is settled," I remarked quietly, "you have something left to accomplish - and you will accomplish it."
He tried to be amusing at first. "I am not doing anything you tell me to."
"Mayhap Andrew has yet to understand what we are capable of," I mused, "Joseph, Carl, you know what to do."
"With pleasure," Carl grinned, and the duo began to tug the rope up and down, making Andrew bounce in the air, held by only his night clothes from a great height.
"Oww!!" he howled, trying to grab his back, where his clothes were constricting him because of the hook.
"Have you changed your mind?" Joseph drawled, his voice sickly-sweet, as he tugged even more vengefully on the rope.
"Owww!!! Please, stop it! Stop it!" Andrew begged and groaned, "I shall...do it. I will do what you say! Stop this!"
"Joseph, Carl, enough," I ordered, keeping a firm hold on the rope, before I stared straight at him.
"You are going to apologise to all of us for every misery you have caused us. To Joseph, to Carl, to me, to Julie and to all the Ladies of Cavarriere," I ordered, "and most importantly, you will apologise to your eldest sister for the thoughtless words you threw at her when she was about to whip you. Is that clear?"
"Yes," he muttered dejectedly.
I nodded curtly. "Lady Diana, if you please."
"Aye, Your Royal Highness," she nodded, and holding on tight to Carl's shoulder, she extended the long stick she was holding towards the Manor, and tapped loudly on Lady Annabelle's window with it.
"Sophie! Frances! Open up!" she yelled.
The window was forced open at once with an even louder bang, and the pale, tired faces of Ladies Sophie and Frances peeked out.
"Diana? What are you doing up on that tree?" Lady Sophie's eyes were half-closed with exhaustion, "and lower your volume, please. Anna is sleeping."
"Whatever do you want?" Lady Frances groaned, yawning, "do go away and cease disturbing us."
"Look who we have here," Joseph shook the rope back and forth to make Andrew revolve to face them.
They gasped loudly at the sight of the muddy Andrew, stumbling back.
"Joseph Matthew Borealis!" Lady Sophie screeched, quite forgetting to keep her voice down for Lady Annabelle, "what have you done to our brother?" Her eyes were wide with horror.
"Are you in your senses, Joseph?" Lady Frances demanded, incredulous, "put him down before he gets hurt!"
"Sophie? Frances? Why are you yelling out the window?" another voice that sounded very similar to Lady Sophie's, croaked from inside the chamber, "return to bed before you catch a cold!" The voice was heavy with sleep, weak and cracked, but even in this weather, all of us heard it.
"They have...suspended Andrew in the air, Anna!" Lady Sophie breathed, "look!"
It was a few moments before an identical face appeared at the window - but how different they were at the moment!
While Lady Sophie's face was chubby, glowing with health, Lady Annabelle's was grey, drawn and almost hollowed. It was difficult to believe that when I had come to Cavarriere for the first time three days ago, I had not even been able to tell them apart.
"Andrew?" Lady Annabelle croaked, coughing, "Joseph, why in the world have you hung him in the air thus?"
"We all take the blame for that, Anna," Carl shot her a gentle smile, "Diana, His Royal Highness, and I, as well."
"All right..." her eyebrows furrowed, bewildered, "but why?"
"Andrew?" I tugged on the rope to get his attention, "is there something you wish to say?"
Andrew was staring at Lady Annabelle, genuinely horrified by her state of health.
"Sister-mine..." he trailed off, unable to say anything else.
Oddly, I knew how he felt. To see the state of destruction your actions and words have caused was a whole new level of guilt that was just as painful.
"What is it?" her voice was gentle and bore no ill-will.
I looked away, feeling as if I was intruding on something private. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ladies Sophie and Frances subtly back away as well.
"Sister-mine, I did not mean a word of what I said that day," he blurted out, abashed, "I was already very angry with the Prince in the morning, and then Camille dragged me like a child, and the whipping...made me even more irritated. I am truly sorry."
Lady Annabelle's eyes widened. "Andrew - "
"I did not intend to hurt you, and I hate seeing you ill. I take back all that I said that day. Please get well soon?"
I felt my jaws slacken in shock. This was the first time I had ever seen Andrew apologise and mean it sincerely. Tears were already streaming down Lady Annabelle's cheeks.
"Andrew - "
"I will not do it again," Andrew swore, looking disturbed, "I will not cause you such pain and difficulty anymore, I promise. Please, forgive me and get well soon..."
"Of course I forgive you, you inane child," Lady Annabelle mumbled, rubbing her face, "why do you always make me cry?"
However, there was acceptance and forgiveness in her eyes, and deep within, I knew things were going to be perfectly fine in the Rortaine family with time.
At once, his sober expression morphed into a scowl. "I am not a child!" he burst out indignantly, "I am turning nineteen next year, for crying out loud!"
"Well, I can hardly call you an adult when you look like a child that has just rolled about in mud, can I?" she chuckled weakly, gesturing to his appearance, "have you been pranked on?" There was a knowing glint in her eyes.
"'Tis unfortunate that you missed it. There was a lot of screaming," Diana nodded.
"And running," Carl smirked.
"And pain," Joseph added.
"And mischief," I ended with a self-satisfied grin.
"I can see that," her eyes twinkled, "a prank well-executed, might I add."
We all bowed and curtsied respectively in acknowledgement, grinning from ear to ear, as Andrew stared on sullenly.
"Lady Marguerite, Lady Camille and Julie helped too. They are inside the Manor at the moment, watching us from a window, most likely," I chuckled, "you can tell them that as well, when you see them for breakfast."
"Jules too?" she sounded surprised.
The rest of us, with the exception of Andrew, burst out laughing.
"She was the mastermind behind this prank, dear Anna," Diana beamed, "unbelievable, eh?"
Her eyes grew huge. "Then I truly must congratulate her on her success later," she laughed softly, "now put Andrew down before he catches a cold in this weather. All of you had better return inside too. I do not want any of you falling sick either." With that, she shot us one last grin and shut the window.
"Is there something you wish to say to the rest of us as well?" Carl demanded of Andrew.
"All right, all right, I am sorry," Andrew grumbled, scowling.
Somehow, I highly doubted that he meant this particular apology. However, Joseph, Carl, Lady Diana and I still exchanged triumphant looks as we lowered Andrew gently on ground.
"Operation Fireball, Phase 4, complete!" we cheered, whooping and hooting loudly.
Joseph and Carl broke into a vigorous happy dance on their respective branches, as Lady Diana held onto her brother for dear life.
I chuckled at their silly victory dances, as my gaze fell on the Manor. The window on the ground floor of the Manor was now open slightly, and a small, heart-shaped face was peeking out, on which a pair of hazelnut brown eyes were twinkling.
Julie.
Deftly climbing down from the tree, I jogged over to her, grinning. "Did we do well?" I queried, slightly breathless, "I believe a simple apology works wonders, but somehow, I doubt that Andrew truly means it."
For an answer, she opened the window a little wider, and leaned against it. "You all did very well indeed," she beamed, "I am beginning to understand why Anna and the rest thrive on pranking. It was certainly worth all that trouble to see Andrew in such a state." She admitted sheepishly.
I cracked a grin, shaking my head in amusement. "Would you consider pranking again, then?"
Her expression turned thoughtful. "Mayhap," she shrugged, and an impish smile spread across her lips, "but if I do, you will be my next target. So watch your back, Sire." Her eyebrows waggled in an amusing attempt to look mysterious.
We both burst out laughing at that. Subtly, the cheers and shouts of triumph around me began to fade, until the only sounds I could hear were her soft laughter and mine.
Her hazelnut brown eyes sparkled, as she sighed and pressed her lips together, sending me a small, tentative smile, one of friendship and camaraderie.
At that particular moment, I sensed that the both of us were somehow about to cross an invisible boundary, from a reluctant truce to a more willing friendship, never to return again to the other side.
But strangely, I found that I did not mind.
The corners of my lips pulled up, as I returned her smile wholeheartedly.