An Affinity For Fire

4. Heleonne

Having changed into a fresh shirt, Leo reluctantly returned to the throng of guests. He obtained a clean glass from one of the tables and poured himself a generous portion of wine. With no-one to talk to, he propped himself up against the wall and began to sip at his drink.

As he stood mentally calculating how many times it would be appropriate to refill his glass, a blonde girl took a glass of her own from the refreshments table and filled it almost to the brim with wine. At the sight of her blonde hair, he assumed she was Dormisian and automatically smiled, relieved to see a face from home, but then he noticed the green of her dress and looked away again.

"Cheer up," she said, "It's an engagement, not a funeral."

He eyed her despondantly. "Since this officially marks the death of my freedom, I consider the two occasions to be one and the same."

Her eyes widened. "You're Heleonne! Of course, the yellow shirt, I should have noticed. My friend doesn't like you."

"Really? And who exactly is your friend?" he asked, more amused by her oddly blunt manner than offended.

"Tarry. Well, Tarragon to anyone other than me."

Leo chewed his lip thoughtfully, then the memory of the boy's name came to him. "Tarragon! Ah, yes. The boy who spilled his drink on me."

"You mean the boy you walked into." She raised an eyebrow at him, an accusing glint in her green eyes.

"Are all Ortusians this unapologetically insolent?"

"No, just me," she answered, swirling her drink. "Why, are all Dormisians this self-important?"

Leo laughed. "Well... yes, pretty much."

"Ah, good to know. Marram's in for some fun, then."

He narrowed his eyes at the peculiar girl. When she noticed his expression, she snorted.

"Sorry, I don't mean to be rude. I've been told I have a habit of being 'too honest.' I didn't realise that was a thing, but there you go."

"Don't worry, I'm not offended," he said, "just slightly surprised, that's all. I'm not unfamiliar with being talked down to, it's just usually it's my relatives doing it, not complete strangers. Who are you again?"

"Oh, Fates, I'm so sorry!" The girl put down her glass and extended her hand. "Clover."

"Clover... Clover with a name or just Clover?"

"Does it matter?" she asked. Leo began to smile.

"No, I suppose not." He shook her hand. "And I know you already know who I am, but call me Leo."

"Leo," she repeated with a nod. "Well, as much as I'd love to stay and chat, sadly, I have somewhere to be." She was about to finish her wine when she frowned, pulling the glass away from her mouth. "Actually, if I'm going to be any help, I probably shouldn't have too much of this. You finish it for me." Without any warning, she tipped the remaining wine into his glass and walked off, golden hair swishing behind her.

"Who was that?" Leo turned to see the stony face of his father watching the girl leave. "She looked Dormisian."

"She's wearing green," he pointed out.

"Yes, thank you, I'm not blind. I said she looked Dormisian. What was her name?"

"They call her Clover. She didn't tell me her name."

His father's grey eyes narrowed in distain. "Monforts need not concern themselves with the nameless, boy."

"Just because she didn't tell me her name, it doesn't necessarily mean she doesn't have one," Leo pointed out.

The old Prince scoffed. "If she has a name and does not wish to share it, she is hiding something and that is altogether worse than not having one at all. Anyhow, there is only one Ortusian girl you should be concerning yourself with and that is Princess Marram. The feast is about to begin. And put that drink down. You think I didn't notice her topping it up with her own? Fates know what she slipped into it while you weren't looking."

Leo swallowed. He hadn't considered that. Still, she didn't seem like an assassin...

"Based on recent events, I think it's your own drink you need to be paying attention to," He said.

The old man tensed, but didn't argue.

They both knew it was the mages who were in danger.

"Well, in any case, you still shouldn't have any more. I don't want the Petras to see you intoxicated."

Leo didn't have the energy to disagree. he sat the glass down on the table and followed his father into the garden.

Many of the guests had already taken their seats at the long table when he and his father arrived. An Ortusian serving girl greeted him nervously and directed him to a seat at the table, between a man  he'd never met and a vacant chair. His father was positioned directly opposite him. Among the few faces he recognised were the Ortusian King Rowan and his wife, Queen Verbena, seated at the head of the elongated table. Their two young grandsons were positioned at the opposite end.

Once everyone was seated, a short, broad man with bronze skin and grey hair, who Leo recognised as Prince Laurel Petra, rose and called for quiet.

"Thank you, everyone. I would like to welcome our new friends, Prince Heleonne Monfort of Dormis and his father, Prince Bollorec Monfort of Dormis." The old man's kind eyes gleamed with joy. He raised his glass towards Leo and his father, who both nodded politely and smiled.

"And now, Prince Heleonne, allow me to introduce you to my beloved younger daughter, Princess Marram Petra of Ortus."

Leo held his breath as he stood and turned towards the front of the garden. He pressed his fingertips repeatedly into his palms, trying to hold back any signs of nerves. From the open door, servants parted and a young girl emerged.

The princess shared her father's rounded cheeks and lack of stature, but the similarities ended there. She was pale and heavily freckled, which surprised him, until he remembered her mother's Ocassan origins. Her eyes, however, were distinctly Ortusian - dark, round and kind. Her lips tugged into a demure but slightly curious smile. Flustered, he rose to his feet to greet the fiery-haired girl.

She approached him, shy smile broadening. "My Prince," she said in a small voice.

"My Princess," he replied, taking her hand. "It is wonderful to finally meet you."

She blushed, a joyful gleam crossing her brown eyes, and Leo felt almost embarrassed by his lack of enthusiasm towards their potential wedding. Clearly, Marram was a lot more excited than he was.

She pulled out the empty seat beside him and they both sat. As the other guests resumed their conversations, Leo felt his heart slowly stop pounding, returning to an almost healthy rhythm.

Ortusian and Dormisian servants alike helped to serve the first course. Leo even spotted Clover laying a plate in front of one guest. He caught her eye briefly and she flashed him a quick smile.

But he was quickly distracted by the behaviour of another servant, the one serving his father's food. The yellow of both his shirt and his hair said that he was Dormisian. Once he'd laid the plate down, he stepped back, his hand moving to his side, where Leo spotted a glint of steel.

Oh, Fates, he thought desperately. Not now, not here.

"No!" He shouted, standing and grabbing the first thing he could, which happened to be Marram's glass, and through it over his father's head. Miraculously, it hit the servant squarely in the face, startling him for long enough for Prince Bollorec to turn, spot the boy's drawn blade and send him flying backwards with a rush of wind.

Leo didn't even have time to take a breath of relief before his attention was drawn to a scream at the other end of the table. A Dormisian serving woman yanked a dripping blade from the back of an Ortusian Lady. The poor woman fell forwards onto the table, coughing up blood.

As Leo's eyes darted around the table, heart pounding out of control, he counted at least three more drawn blades. He stood helplessly as more knives were drawn, I single, horrifying thought screaming in his mind.

They're not just after Dormisian mages.