The Keepers of Eternity

VII

On the mezzanine, Abreigelle was finally alone. She greeted the solitude with a gracious sigh, and swaggered over to the railing to catch a glimpse of the other party guests.

Sure enough, she could see everything from up here. Abreigelle walked, letting her left hand slide gracefully along the wooden rail which wrapped around border of the entire party hall. Her eyes were transfixed upon the dancers, watching the ladies' poofy dresses spin, and the men gliding in tempo with the etude.

She spotted Beshna and Vaniete in the corner, chatting and making occasional glances towards a group of teenage boys who were standing in the corner. There was no sign of the High Councillator's son, unfortunately. Sitting on the perimeter benches were the people's Swordfellows, among them were two of Beshna's own--Evadrian and Asfounder. The latter was brooding, as always, and looking painfully handsome in his brown coat.

Every inch of Abreigelle's heart wished that she could go down there and ask him to dance. If things had been different--if they both were here to actually enjoy the party--she would have swept him onto his feet in a heartbeat. It was an impossible dream, really, and no use in dreaming. But she couldn't help but feel like a puzzle with a missing piece. There had to be more to life than just this--day after day of waiting on others' needs and not her own. If a world of true freedom was possible, Abreigelle wanted to fight for it. The only question was, who was willing to fight with her?

"What are you doing up here?" came a vaguely familiar voice.

Monfried was leaning over the railing nearby, leaning so far it made her stomach turn. He was the only other person up here. "I could ask you the same thing." Abreigelle muttered, "Beshna sent me to look for her true love. She won't fire up her disc until she knows exactly where he is, there's too much risk."

That got a smile out of him. The Swordfellow tucked his loose, greasy brown hair behind his head nonchalantly. His skin glowed bronze in the bright light. "I suspect he is out there somewhere minding his own business."

"But he wasn't at the table with his father when then ball was commenced. Maybe he didn't even show up tonight. Maybe she's after no one?" That would be a punch to the gut.

"Unlikely."

What did he know about it?

Monfreid continued, "The High Councillator would not allow Rashtar to be absent from all of this. He would want him here, to find a wife, just like all the other young Neureans and the others."

"Others?"

"See her?" He pointed out towards the dancing crowd,.

"Who?

"Her. The one with the bright red hair."

Abreigelle spotted her immediately. The woman's unnaturally red hair stuck out like an inflamed blister. "Yeah. What about her?"

"She is Rvyni. But look at what she is wearing." A colorful gown with frills of lace. A bit simple compared to the Neureans', but every bit as elegant and beautiful. "She's not from their home country of Rvyn--nor is she from the great nations= of Ith."

What? "How do you know that? She looks like any other Rvyni."

Monfreid shook his head. "Sometimes i wonder if you even pay attention at all."

"Excuse me?"

"Think, Abreigelle. She is not wearing black."

"So?"

"If she was from Rvyn then she would be wearing pure black robes. If she was from Ith, she would be wearing all white robes. She is not wearing either because she is from one of the the southern countries, they are not as religious, so they don't just wear one color. She's a refugee princess."