Brighter Than the Stars

Annabelle - Maybe We Are Immature

The Count refused to cooperate. It shouldn't have surprised me–and it didn't, not really–but it annoyed me. I mean, all that work to get him here, and he wouldn't even say one tiny little thing? Though, it wasn't like I would have, either, if I'd been in his situation; even if I'd already pretty much turned myself in.

"Honestly, I'm not surprised, Belle," Leo said, probably tired of hearing me rant for the last thirty minutes. "You'd probably do the same. Might as well make it as difficult as possible, right?"

"I guess." I poked at my dinner. "He could be a little helpful."

James snorted. "Technically, he's the enemy. You're not helpful in normal, day-to-day life, so I can't see you being very helpful if you were captured, either. You sound like a child right now."

"I am one, technically," I had been about to add, "and so are you" when I realised that, by Itarise standards, he wasn't. Seeing as I didn't want to be lectured on how great he was now that he was an adult, I decided to forgo that option. "Anyway, I'm just sick of waiting around for this guy to finally decide to talk."

"I'm going again today," James said. "Madeline wanted guards near her–even if he can't see them–while she talks, and I assigned myself. Because I want to know what's happening." He admitted it so bluntly that it surprised me for a moment; James preferred to pin things on other people when he could (namely, me, or so he tried), and wouldn't have usually admitted that he just wanted to listen in, even if we'd all know it.

"I want to come, too," I said. James shouldn't get to have all the fun, just because he was Captain of the Guard and thought himself important enough to assign himself to listen in on conversations. "I'll talk to Maddie after dinner," I decided out loud, then turned to Nicole. "Are you coming?"

"No." She didn't say anything more, just took a bite of her potatoes.

I turned to Leo. "Have you ever had a conversation with her? Like, an actual conversation, where she responded with more than one-word answers. Anyway, are you going?"

"That's mean, Annabelle. And, no, I'm not. Whatever I miss, you or James can fill me in on later, if it's important."

"You're in charge of listening," I told James.

"You're the one who wants to go!"

"So do you!" He stuck out his tongue at me, so naturally I had to do it back, and by the time we refocused on the conversation, Nicole had pulled out a book and had it on her lap, while Leo read (or at least looked) over her shoulder, his chin on her shoulder. "Anyway," I said, "James will be sure to remember everything so he can tell you all about it."

"Didn't agree to that," he muttered.

"Didn't ask," I retorted.

...

Having received permission from Madeline, I slipped in behind James who walked behind the other two guards he had brought. He turned his head slightly to look back at me and whispered, "Don't be stupid."

"Me? Never."

While we were technically in the dungeons, I had to admit that they were nice. Maybe I'd just slept in a lot of crappy places over the years, but it was clean, dry, and relatively warm. Honestly, maybe I should have tried to get arrested–it couldn't have been that hard to start something politically, make a name for myself, and then get captured at the last moment.

I'd even be a martyr for my followers. It sounded pretty good to me.

Except my own room was far better than here–I'd claimed the nicest one, in my opinion. It had a window seat, for one, and a view that looked over the city and gardens. Nicole also had one (they were everywhere in the palace, which I thought was an excellent design feature) but my room was bigger. It also had a bigger closet–not that Nicole had many clothes. James and I had bolted when we'd been told where we could pick rooms, while Leo and Nicole had walked behind. And Nicole had still ended up with the other window seat, because James was super lame and had said that he had "no use" for it.

Reason number four thousand and fifty why James was lame.

Von Vikas sat against the wall, ignoring the cot that served as his bed, and stared blankly into the opposite corner. He looked a lot better than when Nicole and I had first found him, his leg wrapped up (he'd refused magic), his clothes and hair clean, and he looked better fed besides. He glanced listlessly over at Madeline, uninterested. "Oh. It's you again. You might as well leave–unless you've come to get it over with and kill me."

"No one's going to kill you," Madeline said. "I'd like to hear your side of things–to understand what some of your followers wants are. If I can do that, everyone will be happier, if you'll work with me."

He eyed her. "You were clearly born for the politician life."

"I do enjoy it, so I hope that means I'm good at my job. Now, what I'd like to know is this: what is motivating this rebellion? What are their wants, their needs?"

"Listen, sweetheart," he said, which I found creepy, "I don't know anything. You guys have got it into your heads that I'm some big ringleader for this, but, truthfully, I didn't even know about it till recently. Not that I don't support it–I do–but I wasn't really the one in charge of things, anyway. Copeland ran the show. I'm sure you're all thinking, 'Wow, that's horrible, why would you just let someone boss you around like that.' Except, honestly? It was fantastic. All I had to do was look good for the cameras, and now I've got people who want me back." He shifted against the wall, adjusting his bad leg. "You may be all into your fancy political schemes and I want to make everyone happy crap, but I did just fine without it. I suggest you give up on this nonsense, and let the adults run the show again."

"Didn't he just admit he wasn't running the show?" I whispered to James, who laughed before he could stop himself.

The Count looked over at the two of us and frowned. "Proves my point exactly. You're a bit too immature to handle all of this responsibility."

"Legally, I am an adult and fully able to take the Itarese throne," Madeline said. She stood. "I thank you for your time. Please let someone know if you wish to speak again, or if you have anything more to tell me."

We trailed out after her, and I glanced back as we left. The Count was still in the same spot, staring blankly at the wall.

Word Count: 1,157 

Fixed it! 

Now they're twins :) 

Anyway (why do I say that so often in writing? I need to stop lol), where do you ideally see the characters in twenty-ish years? What would you say their lives would look like?

I feel like this is such a weird question to ask. I mean, I think about it all the time (and know a lot of it), but I'm curious to see what you think or would like. You know what I mean? Maybe?