NaNoWriMo-vel Chapter 4

Chapter Four - Eyes On Me

There came a knock at the door, “Door’s open.” Blank called out.

A servant peered in, “Mistress Sharel insisted you be given proper attire.” She explained as two men wheeled in a trolley from which dress suits and dinner jackets of all colors hung. Bowing politely, the servant left to allow the three to get down to business. The first man, wearing a silk fuchsia shirt motioned for Blank to stand, which the scribe did.

Unwinding the measuring tape from his neck, the man introduced himself as Hugo. “Mistress Sharel apparently had invited guests for the evening and informed me that your clothing is not up to her standards.” He chuckled, “I don’t quite blame her. You might as well have been wearing wall paper for all those concerned.” He tsked as he quickly took Blank’s measurements. “My goodness, I never thought it possible but the generic size we tailors use as a means of basis fits you perfectly!”

At this the other man snickered, though discreetly as he covered his mouth as if to clear his throat.

“I wouldn’t know as I don’t buy many clothes.” Blank huffed, looking properly offended while his cheeks burned red.

“Awww, look, Bhass, I hurt his widdle feelings.” Hugo coo’ed and the other man now known as Bhass laughed openly. “You don’t have the luxury of having your feelings spared boy, Mistress Sharel doesn’t care about your reputation. Just hers.” The brightly dressed man added, a wicked glimmer in his eyes. At the snap of Hugo’s fingers, Bhass began to scour the clothes for the appropriate clothing.

Blank stared. And stared. And stared at what the tailors pulled out. A full body suit of white, form fitting, unbreathing leather. “I’m not wearing that.”

Pouting, Hugo held it up against Blank’s body, “But you’ll look adorable in it! Not to mention the shoulders will give you the illusion of breadth especially in your torso.”

“No.” He snapped through grit teeth.

“Is it the color? Because we have the same model in navy blue.” Bhass suggested. For half an hour the trio argued about what Blank was to wear. The duo insisted on extravagantly designed clothing with rhinestones and sequins while Blank was adamant on not looking like a glittering clown.

“You do realize we’re dressing you based on Mistress Sharel’s tastes,” Hugo stated darkly as Blank practically threw the latest piece at the trolley.

“I could eat with the servants, I don’t mind! I’d rather not mingle with the Edelbertons or their guests.”

At this, the door burst open to reveal Sharel standing in the hallway. Though her eyes were hidden behind darkly colored glasses with sleek platinum rims, Blank could tell she was glaring dangerously at him.

“What nonsense is the ungrateful little boor saying?” She sneered, entering Blank’s room with boots laced up to her thighs. “We offer you shelter for the night, present you suitable attire, provide delicious food and this is the thanks we get?” From behind her, she draws out a whip and cracks it threateningly. “I will not be insulted by having my gifts rejected and wasted. You will wear what I deem fit and you will be shown to our guests. You’ve become quite the conversation piece, though frankly I blame Marlene for making you one. Someone needs to fuse that girl’s lips shut or cleave her a new mouth between her jaw and collarbone.” She mutters and strikes at a hanger from which hung a moss-green open jacket, a white linen dress shirt and brown leather vest. Another lash of her whip breaks the hanger holding flared black leather pants.

“Your current footwear will have to do,” Sharel frowned, “I suppose this is the best we can do given your appearance. I’m no wizard and neither are Hugo and Bhass. Even if we were I doubt we could spice up your looks.”

She sauntered out and slammed the door behind her. Silence fell upon the three as Hugo and Bhass gathered the chosen garments and neatly laid them on Blank’s bed. Smiling and bowing the due wordlessly exited, leaving Blank thoroughly confused and quite concerned over his safety.

* * * * *

Blank walked into grand ballroom with the distinct feeling of sticking out like a sore thumb. Though he would realize, upon seeing the fashion the other guests were wearing, that he was dressed quite conservatively. The exposed cleft of a woman’s breast here, the revealed sides of a man’s muscular legs there, Blank wondered just what kind of people Sharel invited.

He stood awkwardly at the entrance, feeling other people brush past him without so much as glancing at his direction. He was used to this treatment by now, but it didn’t mean he liked going unnoticed. The corners of his lips began to curl towards the ground when he felt a heavy hand rest upon his shoulder.

Blank turned to see Schyll chuckling good naturedly, “I see Sharel got to your wardrobe.”

The young man nodded sheepishly before noticing there was someone standing behind the old lawyer. He looked to be about three, maybe four years Blank’s senior, standing as tall as he could, Blank would only reach the man’s jaw. Sharp, carmine eyes coolly stared into Blank’s mahogany ones before a gloved hand tucked stray strands of his ivory hair behind his ear.

“Ah, allow me to introduce Vrin, my former personal assistant, who was recently promoted to liaisons officer.” Schyll beamed, clapping this other young man smartly on the back of his well tailored, three-piece suit. Even as Vrin’s torso inclined forward slightly from the force, he managed to look dignified and aloof about it.

“And as the new liaisons officer, your first task is to accompany Blank here and keep him from getting into trouble.” Schyll instructed. “Show him around, introduce him and such, oh but I shouldn’t have to tell you all this.” He laughed.

Vrin nodded, “If you would follow me, Blakeford.” He motioned to the scribe with a finger before setting off into the ballroom.

“Did, did you just call me Blakeford?” Blank asked in disbelief.

“Yes, did I assume incorrectly that you would have preferred to go by your real name as opposed to your sobriquet?” Vrin quirked a well shaped brow.

“N-no, no, you assumed right.” Blank smiled, “It’s just I’m used to people calling me Blank because they keep forgetting my name.”

“As liaisons officer, it is my duty to know everyone and treat them the way they wish to be treated.” He smiled, though it was not completely genuine. Blank could tell from the way Vrin spoke and looked at him, the older man viewed this as nothing more than a job. In fairness it was his job, but Blank would have preferred to be left alone rather than weigh someone down at a party no less.

“Does Sharel throw parties often?”

“Balls.” Vrin corrected, “Mistress Sharel throws balls, and no she rarely holds such lavish events. But she does have montly gatherings with close friends but they are all held elsewhere. When Master Raoul, Yrast bless his soul, was still alive he would encourage Mistress Sharel to hold her gatherings here. But she always refused without giving her reasons.”

Vrin led Blank from group to group, introducing him to people with titles who had old-rich names and people who held no titles but were new-rich instead. Blank was grateful he had a good memory and was able to match names with faces. The older guests, those who wore flesh covering clothing, showing only the barest hint of the neck and wrists, didn’t seem all that interested in him. Until Vrin mentioned his work as a scribe.

“Oh so you’re that chap who will finally untangle that mess Raoul left in his will!” A whale of a man remarked.

“Y-yes, I suppose I am.” Blank responded, growing more and more used to having people stare at him with each introduction.

“Could you enlighten us on what it is Raoul requires of you and the rest of the beneficiaries of his will?” A wrinkly old crone asked, holding her glasses up to her nose to squint her beady eyes at the scribe.

“I am afraid that is confidential.” Blank stated, it wasn’t an apology but a firm statement. He was a professional and it was in his job description to maintain secrecy unless told otherwise. Vrin seemed impressed that Blank didn’t cave from all the questioning stares and prying tongues. Sensing the group’s waning interest, Vrin ushered Blank to a fresh group.

They were halfway there when Blank noticed his companion suddenly stopped mid-stride. He glanced at Vrin and saw the pale-haired man glaring hatefully. Following the direction of his gaze, Blank saw a couple laughing merrily by the window. The man was a good head taller than Vrin and was far more muscular, a warrior no doubt, judging from the heavy greaves and gauntlets he so effortlessly walked in to get himself and his lady friend a drink. The rest of him was clad in mithril chain mail that barely rattled as he moved. For the sake of making himself look more festive, a top hat decorated with a rainbow plumed feather neatly rested on his dirty blonde hair.

The woman had her long, auburn hair swept away from her face and held back by jeweled hair pins. A few fading scars, indicating they were made years past, peeked from under the loose, flared sleeves that slipped down towards the crook of her elbows whenever she raised her arms. Her corn silk colored, empress-cut dress hung in such a way that hinted her muscles were more developed than the average woman’s, though not in the overly large and frightening way. Her skirt properly accentuated the flare of her hips while giving her a soft, demure appearance.

The pair ceased their merriment when they sensed they were being watched. The woman’s obsidian eyes quickly diverted when she saw it was Vrin staring at them, her cheeks coloring the same shade as Vrin’s eyes. The man, on the other hand, smugly held Vrin’s gaze with his amethyst ones. He even went so far as to raise his glass towards the pale-haired liaisons officer.

Blank saw Vrin’s hand clench tightly, had he not been gloved he would also have seen his knuckles pale. “Come along, Blakeford, there are other people that wish to make your acquaintance.” His voice was steady, calm, completely masking the rage and fury Blank saw flash in his eyes.

“S-sure.” He nods, hurrying after the departing man. He glanced back at the couple and saw they were now having a serious discussion that threatened to become an argument. Before he could watch what would happen next, Blank heard Vrin’s voice interrupt him.

“Ignore them.” Vrin warned, “And do not ask me about them. I shan’t introduce you to them, unless you wish for blood to be spilled.” He pulled at his jacket just enough to reveal a small, jeweled dagger hidden in an inner pocket. Vrin smoothened out the wrinkles that had formed before directing Blank to a group of women dressed similarly to Sharel. Leather corsets and bustiers cinched at waists and emphasized cleavage to an almost obscene degree. Tight skirts hugged at hips as did the equally form-fitting pants. Pumps and boots with heels no shorter than four inches caused most of them to tower over Blank.

“Why Vrin, did you bring us a present?” A turquoise-haired woman smiled as her lemon colored eyes roved over Blank in keen interest. Some girls giggled in agreement while others squealed in mock indignation.

Vrin chuckled accordingly, “No, Miss Rid, this is Blakeford Kings. I believe Mistress Sharel spoke of him?”

“Blakeford?” Rid canted her head, the ringlets in her hair tilting towards the ground. “Blakeford? Blakeford?” her emerald-painted lips pursed, “Sorry, doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Oh wait, I think he’s Blank!” one of the other girls realized.

“Yes, he does sometimes go by that title.” Vrin nods. Blank was greeted by an eruption of squeals as hands began to paw at him.

“Ah! I should have known, Sharel did ask me to send some clothing for a surprise guest. When she warned me he needed something special to stand out, I should have taken her more seriously.” Rid tsked as she shook her head in feigned shame.

“Wait, how do you know those two?” Blank asked.

“They work for me, silly man.” Rid rolled her eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “I should have sent some heavy duty eye-catchers. You might as well have worn a curtain for all this set’s doing.”

“You’re right, he doesn’t look very special.” One remarks.

“Maybe his talents are better experienced behind closed doors?”

Blood rushed up to Blank’s face, cheeks growing warm at the sensual touch and hot breaths caressing him.

“Ladies please,” Vrin began as he started prying some of the women from the shell-shocked Blank. “Mistress Sharel will not be pleased if you were to send our guest to his room before he meets everyone.”

“Everyone, Vrin?” Rid stared at the liaisons officer. Their eyes met before they both turned to glance at the couple from earlier. Once more their gazes locked and they nodded in understanding.

“My mistake, then.” Vrin coughed.

It was at that point Blank noticed the armored gentleman from earlier approach their group. He held two glasses of wine, one in each hand and an easy-going smile graced his lips.

Both Rid and Vrin tensed, and Blank would have been much more observant had the other girls in the group not insisted on running their hands all over his torso. When the blonde man drew near, the chattering girls grew silent and stepped away as if disgusted by his very presence. The brunette woman came up to him, her eyes pleading at him to just leave but he wouldn’t acknowledge her.

“Long time no see, Vrin, Rid.” The hat-wearing man greeted, his voice carrying a heavy Ishayan accent. Blank didn’t seem surprised that this man was from the region dubbed barbarian’s land, his physique indicated as much. Neither of the two addressed seemed willing to respond, but after a few moments of awkward silence Rid opted to speak.

“I should think so, Rass.” She smiled, though her words dripped of venom. “Not after you left me high and dry.” Setting her sights on the brunette she added “I wouldn’t be too certain of your engagement Ergo, Rass is quite fickle. We broke up and got back together so many times I’ve lost count.”

Ergo chose to nod while carefully avoiding Vrin’s eyes, “I’ll keep that in mind. You both look well.”

Now free of distractions, Blank was able to catch the brief flash of sadness and longing in the liaison officer’s carmine orbs. “Um, pardon me but-”

“Come now, I came here to offer you a drink to show there are no hard feelings.” Rass held out the glasses of wine towards both Vrin and Rid. “And don’t worry, there ain’t no poison in them.” He gruffly laughed.

Rid accepted it and downed it in one gulp, while Vrin just held his by the flute of the glass.

“I really needed this, thanks.” Rid grinned wolfishly, “But sorry, hard feelings aren’t easy to let go!” and she hurled the glass at Ergo. The woman didn’t seem startled or worried. As her hand rose to catch it, a gloved hand suddenly plucked the empty drinking apparatus mid-air.

“Vrin...” Ergo breathed, eyes wide at the pale-haired man.

“Miss Rid, it would be in everyone’s best interest that a scene not be started.” He spoke, eyes glaring menacingly at the bright-haired woman. Retrieving the glass to his side he continued “I am the liaisons officer and as such it is my duty to ensure that no one is upset by anyone’s behavior.”

“Oy, don’t go trying to show off in front of Ergo. She’s spoken for, y’see?” Rass snarled, holding out Ergo’s hand to show the mithril ring encrusted with small diamonds that wound tight around the woman’s finger. At this, Rid snorted and left, ignoring the flock of women that followed after her.

“That,” Vrin glowered before gulping the wine from his own glass. Snapping his fingers, a servant arrived to gather the empty glasses. “Has absolutely nothing to do with this. I have a job to do, and I am professional enough to keep personal feelings from getting in the way.”

Vrin adjusted his jacket, reminding Blank of the dagger that lay hidden in wait before he remarked absently, “Even though I would like nothing more than to mop this ballroom with your face.”

Rass clenched and unclenched his fists, his mouth twisting into a hungry snarl, “Bring it, you pansy.”

“Rass. Don’t!” Ergo snapped, she looked dangerously close to hitting someone. And her target looked to be the blonde man.

“But Ergo, he challenged me.” He reasoned.

“It was a rhetorical statement.” Ergo hissed.

“A challenge is a challenge.” Was the bratty comeback.

“I haven’t the time for this. Come Blakeford, before you become infected with such uncivilized and uncouth ways.” Vrin sneered and walked away.

Blank was about to go after him when a gauntleted hand flew past him.

“Oy, Vrin!” Rass snarled. As the liaisons officer turned, the sound of metal slamming against bone echoed in the ballroom.