The War Of The Century

The Grand Ball.

Hope you enjoy this story y'all!
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"Who?" I questioned as politely as I could. The man standing in my mirrors reflection behind me was my second oldest brother-Castor. He leaned against my four-poster oak bed frame radiantly as he used a sharp, little dagger to remove the dirt from under his fingernails. He kept eyeing my maid-who was currently tugging stinging strands of hair into its correct place on top of my head.

His bony jaw blatantly clenched at my vexating question. He looked at me with his left eyebrow slightly raised, our eyes meeting into the gleaming mirror. "Lady Tiona Oriol." Once there was no sound left to exit his mouth, his eyes drifted back to his grubby nails. I swallowed willing my mind to think harder.

"Yes." I started. "I heard you the first time but I don't recall the name." He huffed rolling his eyes and moaning,

"House Oriol?"

I began to figdet. Hmm. Think, think, think!

"I DON'T KNOW." I groaned. He exhaled loudly from his mouth and slipped the dagger back into his sheath.

"They own Oriol bridge...Oriol Castle?" My blank face said it all. Castor began to use his hands now, swishing them about quickly in the air as if that would help me remember. "Lord Oriol is the fat one with one leg!" Finally my mind clicked.

"He's the one with the fat daughters."

"No!" My brother screeched absurdly at me. He pinched the bridge of his slender nose then ran his fingers through his curly hair. "That's Lord Blurn."

I lifted my hands up to rub my face but without hesitation my maid slapped them away, speaking in her high-pitched voice, "Don't ruin it." This act of defiance intrigued my brother as he commented slyly,

"You just hit a Lady. That's treason you know." I responded instantly, noticing the shakiness of her hands.

"I told her to hit me if I mess up any of her work." My brother smirked at my maid, staring at her thin body a little longer than her face.

"Don't let father catch you." He whispered to her creepily. She seemed uncomfortable so I called,

"Greyson!" At once a round, dark-haired lad, the same age as me, entered the room at a quick pace starting, "Me Lady." I smiled.

"I need a book on House Oriol from Mastor Arn. Fetch it please." He nodded clearly finishing,

"Me Lady," Then to my brother, "Me Lord." The he was gone just as quickly as he entered. My blushing maid continued aching my skalp as I adjusted in this uncomfortable chair.

"Is she pretty?" His voice became smaller like a child's,

"I am told so."

"You haven't met?"

"I am meeting her tonight." Silence flooded the room. My eyes dropped to my small hands clutching one another as I muttered,

"I can't believe you're getting married in a matter of days." His deep voice was naturally soft and smooth which made me believe he owned a melodic singing voice...but he never sang. That was more of a woman's duty.

"Well it had to be one of us men." I shrugged.

"I thought it'd be Ekon first."

Ekon was my oldest brother. Strong, tall and a brute. Scary looking with a deep, scratchy voice and a maniac on the battle field. However, he wasn't scary to me.

"Yes well, father's sure the Angels will choose him to end the war." I stared up at the ceiling frustrated.

"If they do, they're basically sentencing him to death." Castor sat on top of my bed now, scratching the back of his hands. Stupid, that's just going to create more dirt under his fingernails.