The Last Great Battle (NaNoWriMo story, on hold)

Chapter 6

Same Evening

            Roger held Reanne’s hand firmly in place on his elbow as he walked her to the middle of the dance floor. Reanne glared at him the whole time he arranged their bodies and arms to dance a waltz-like dance.

            “What exactly are you doing?” She asked through clenched teeth as he started dipping and swaying to the music.

            “It’s called dancing,” he responded coolly, “You don’t have dancing in Saharen?”

            “We do, there just isn’t so much touching. Why do we have to be touching all the time?”

            “I don’t know,” Roger had his teeth clenched now, “there just is. Go with it. We only need to dance this one time. Besides, what did I ever do to make you hate me so much?”

            “I don’t know. Perhaps it started with you entering into a contract with my step-mother without my consent.”

            “Pfft!” He scoffed, “That sounds like a personal problem, Highness.”

            Reanne went back to silently glaring at him. Mercifully the dance was over in another minute. Roger walked her back to where Harmony and Pelot were amicably chatting, again forcibly holding Reanne’s hand on his elbow. As soon as they were out of the spotlight of the other guests, they both dropped any contact with the other.

            Reanne moved to stand next to Pelot while Roger bowed low before Harmony.

            “Your Highness, may I have this dance?”

            Harmony blushed, nodded yes, and dropped a curtsy. She easily slipped her hand into his elbow and allowed him to lead her out to the edge of the dance floor. They instantly stood and arranged themselves without question and like a clockwork figures.

            Reanne leaned over to Pelot, “Did I look like that out there?”

            Pelot snorted, saw her glare, and pretended it was a cough. “No, but you were fine. Fine!”

            She gave him a swift punch in the arm and turned back to the dancing couples.

***

            Harmony tried to stare straight ahead, hoping if she focused on one of his waistcoat buttons that she would not cry.

            “Good evening, Harmony,” Roger said at last. Harmony could hear the feeling behind his words and had to close her eyes against more tears. “I did not expect to see you tonight after our discussion this afternoon.”

            Harmony wished he would stop talking but finally took a deep breath and looked up at his face. Big mistake. Tears instantly threatened at the corners of her eyes.

            “I was not intending to come but Reanne wished for company. She seems to be wary of all of the festivities.”

            “I am as well. Of course, it would be different if it was under different circumstances.”

            Harmony gasped at the feelings behind his words. She tried to look back down but it was too late. Being this near to him and hearing the hurt behind his words was too much. The floodgates of tears were opened and Harmony murmured an apology as she dropped his hands and dashed toward the back end of the ballroom, to a dark corridor that lead she knew not where.

            Roger stood in place, shocked, for a moment then looked around, and finally followed her out of the room. Reanne and Pelot were two of the few partygoers who noticed this scene.

            Roger found Harmony leaning against a wall tapestry, a few yards into the barely lit hallway, with her head in her hands. He dashed to her and pulled her hands away from her face.

            “Oh! Why won’t you just leave me alone?!” Harmony yelled, her face already red and puffy, with streams of tears sliding down her cheeks. At Roger’s stoic face, she began pummeling him in the chest with her fists. He just stood there and let her beat out her anger until the tears overtook her again, where upon he hugged her tightly to his chest and stroked her head gently, like one would do to a child.

            When Harmony’s sobs finally lessened and she began to breath normally again, Roger took her face in his hands and wiped away the tear stains with his thumbs. They stared into each other’s eyes, not saying anything but telling each other everything, until Harmony leapt at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Roger held her up against him tightly and swayed toward the wall where he propped both of them up against it. They were locked in this passionate embrace for several moments until they were interrupted by the sound of Reanne and Pelot’s voices at the entrance of the hallway.

            “I know I saw her go this way,” Reanne was saying while Pelot tried to convince her it was another one.

            Silently, Harmony slid down the wall to stand on her own two feet. They both tried to help each other get to some semblance of what they looked like before. With a last look, Harmony walked solemnly out to greet Reanne and Pelot.

            “See?” Reanne cried, “I knew it was this one.” She held out her arms to greet Harmony but Harmony and Pelot were locked in a knowing glance. “What?” Reanne said finally with her hands on her hips.

            Harmony finally turned to Reanne, “I am not feeling well. I need to go back up to my room and lie down.”

            “Of course,” Reanne stepped out of her way then turned back in time to see Roger slip from the same corridor. A puzzled look washed over her face.

***

            About an hour later, Reanne was in her bed, surrounded by books. “I found it!” She exclaimed finally.

            Pelot sat up with a start from where he was dozing in the window seat. “What? What did you find?” He asked, groggily.

            Reanne sighed, “The spell I’ve been looking for. The one that would let me see if an object is being used for good or ill.”

            Pelot pursed his eyebrows together in thought, “Why would we need that spell?”

            Reanne got up from the bed and retrieved a leather drawstring purse from her bureau. “This!” She said as she pulled a golden ring from the pouch, “This is to be my wedding ring. It is the symbol of my marriage to Dukey Duke-pants, right?”

            “Dukey Duke-pants?” Pelot sat up straighter and turned toward her.

            She waved his question away with her hand. “Yes. So I can use this spell to see if it is being used for good or evil. Diane gave it to me for the wedding. I know her intentions are no good and this whole thing is giving me weird feelings, plus something is upsetting Harmony. So, let’s see what’s going on with this ring!”

            “Reanne, wait, about Harmony, there is something I need to tell you—“

            Reanne cut him off with another wave of her hand. She placed the ring in the center of her palm and recited the incantation from the spell book in her other hand. The ring began to glow and it got so hot that Reanne dropped it on the floor with a cry.

            Pelot ran over. He inspected her hand but there was no mark on it. Then he knelt down and picked up the ring itself. On it was engraved writing in the ancient language of Saharen. Pelot was able to pick out a few words before the engravings disappeared.

            “What did it say?” Reanne asked breathlessly.

            “Nothing good,” Pelot answered.