Two Cats

Chapter 24

The palace reception room had been lovingly and breathtakingly transformed, as it was every year, into a display of such opulent perfection that only the most hardened and jaded soul would fail to be impressed by the sheer beauty of it all. Lords and Ladies were everywhere, all wearing their very best in pretentious ornamental finery. Everyone moved smoothly and eloquently, as if attempting to be worthy of where they stood at any given moment, mingling amongst each other like bejeweled butterflies.

There was a certain amount of magic in the air, an undercurrent of excitement and fear. This was it – the moment when all of your hard work either earned you the riches you felt you deserved, or went entirely unnoticed and plagued your waking thoughts for months. Dreams came true at functions such as this, the beauty and splendor surrounding you simply adding to the already strong impression that you must be dreaming, for the golden paradise that glittered before you could not possibly exist anywhere but in your wildest imagination.

Puke.

It's rather difficult to be sarcastic and miserable when surrounded by something like that, but I managed. If you're ever interested in learning the trick, a good portion of the secret involves making certain that you've had a sword shoved through your leg the night before, or possibly slammed into the side of your head. Both, if you can arrange it.

Finding out your entire family had been murdered instead of dying from natural causes like you'd originally thought, and then being unable to find out anything further from the fellow who hinted at such a thing ... that also helps.

I sat there, damaged as I was, high up in the balcony watching the other Lords and Ladies flit to and fro amongst the various tables and each other much like ... well, I've used 'butterflies' to describe them once already, I know. But that's just what they reminded me of. Really, what good is it to come up with the perfect simile if you're only able to use it once?

Ordinarily I would have been flitting to and fro myself, though both my limited mobility and my dark mood made such a thing impossible. Very few people came over to visit me or say hello, given the out of the way location I'd chosen. Those who did come by merely stayed long enough to nod, inquire about my health, make their excuses and leave.

Without a doubt, several dozen versions of what transpired between Redforne and myself were already circulating mercilessly, and I could only guess as to their contents. No doubt Theo, who had assured me that he was fully recovered from his ordeal and was currently mingling in the crowd below, would keep track of all the rumors he was able to sniff out and give me a rundown of everything he'd heard when next we met.

Perhaps I was still numb with shock, but I found myself not really caring what anyone thought. I sat alone, having told Tarryl to wait for me with the carriage, preferring to limp to my seat without the benefit of any assistance. Given the aforementioned multitude of rumors that must have been circulating, I didn't really have any concerns over my personal safety. I'd killed a swordsman the likes of which had not been seen in a score of years, after all. Who in their right mind would want to try something?

In truth, I wanted to be alone. Surrounded by nothing but glittering beauty and starry-eyed Lords and Ladies bursting with excitement and eager anticipation, I felt very alone indeed.

My mind went in circles as I sat there waiting, wisps of thought again and again returning to Redforne and all that had occurred the previous evening. It seemed like I could not go five minutes without experiencing the pang of realization anew, this feeling of overwhelming remorse, sadness, and anger. At times my thoughts would wander - seeing some Lord I recognized, or wondering idly what sort of delectable food item a servant was in the process of bringing out ... and the very absence of that feeling would suddenly hit me like cold water, reminding me once again of what had happened a mere day ago and pulling me back into the familiar, frustrated despair.