Neil of Tanith - Part 5

"And then he said, 'No, but my horse did.'" Celeste laughed, throwing her head back slightly in that wonderfully adorable way she had of making you wonder what you'd do if you were a vampire confronted with such a perfect throat as that. To hear the crystalline melody of her laugh was like standing under a waterfall and letting its cool fingers slide down your arms. Neil couldn't help but grin, even as Nick glowered.

"Oh Neil, you're unbelievable," she sighed. "I've never met anyone quite like you."

"Neither have I — like you, I mean. I've met plenty of people like me. They always stare at me whenever I look in the mirror. Isn't that weird?" Celeste giggled again, taking a dainty sip from her champagne glass.

But although he wouldn't have minded being stapled to his chair, the prince was starting to get a bit of a headache from all of the noise. Sir Lawrence had apparently invited most of the landed gentry of the kingdom to the feast, and Bondure gentry weren't exactly known for being gentlemen. Excusing himself and shooting a "Don't you dare" warning glance at his brother, he stood and slipped through the dining hall's double doors.

Once in the cool, dark entrance hall, the prince inhaled deeply. It was a perfectly clear night, and Neil could see a full moon and a sprinkle of stars through the thick glass of the window. He waltzed a dreamy little waltz on the cold stone floor, humming, then started up a flight of marble stairs, not very intent on discovering where they led. As he ascended, he trailed one hand lazily on the banister and let his mind wander.

In love! He, a form of solid granite, a prince who swore that he would never be so silly as to succumb heart and soul to a person of the opposite gender, was totally and unbelievably immersed in a wave of new emotions. He felt like running, and singing, and clicking his heels — if, in his case, it weren't so dangerous. At the mere thought of Celeste, his mind reeled and he came terribly close to tumbling backward down the stairs. She was so intelligent, and funny, and personable, and nice, and lovely, and — and perfect. Yes, he was most definitely in love.

Upon reaching the topmost stair, Neil paused, undecided on which direction to go. He finally turned right, hoping to see the moon more clearly from that end of the building.

For several seconds he walked, passing locked doors, their mysteries hidden to everyone except he who held their keys — or she, he added mentally. Mustn't forget the shes of the world.

But then he found a room with its door open. From his vantage point, the prince could see two large gridded patches of moonlight resting on several oddly-shaped objects that cast strange shadows in the dark. His curiosity piqued, he entered the room.

To his surprise, he found that the objects were really pieces of furniture, their natures undisclosed by white sheets thrown haphazardly over them. The unearthly contrast of light and dark lent a certain terrifying mystique to the air, and Neil, pulling his cape a little closer, decided to change the mood by removing the sheets and seeing what these covered items really were. His hand moved forward through the air and brushed a piece of fabric.

"Don't even think about it."

"GAH!" For the third time that day, Neil was shocked into unwanted motion, this time a sudden leap backwards. Turning on one heel, he prepared to run — fleeing seemed like pretty good idea at the time — one usually takes off screaming when encountered by a bodiless voice — until his adrenaline and common sense simultaneously hit his bloodstream. But he couldn't quite seem to get visions of fanged monsters and clawed demons out of his head. "Who — who's there?" he stuttered. "You can't hurt me — I'm religiously inclined — I'm not afraid."

"Which of course means that you're frightened nearly to death, Mr. Religiously-Inclined Prince Person," the voice mocked humorlessly.

That did it. "That does it!" Neil exploded. "I don't know who the hell you are or what the hell you want, but either show yourself, or — or I'm going to scream! I mean it!" To punctuate his threat, the prince slammed one tightly clenched fist furiously down on the nearest thing, which happened to be a vase. The thin glass shattered, and a nice deep cut was sliced cleanly down the side of his hand. "OW!"

"Now look what you've done." From the windowsill at the corner of the room, a shadow moved, and a figure emerged. It slipped languidly from its perch and revealed itself as a girl. Tousled hair crashed down her back, and the loose shift of white cloth she wore ended just below her knees. Barefoot, she crept nimbly across the floor until she stood before Neil, where she proceeded to cross her arms, frown petulantly, and glare meaningfully at the prince, all in one smooth motion. "You've gone and broken my vase."

"Your VASE?!" he yelled. "I'm standing here spilling half my life's blood all over the floor, and all you can say is 'You broke my vase'?"

"Stop complaining. It's not that bad."

"You know, I am so blastedly fed up with people telling me what to do. 'Get married,' they say. 'Be polite.' 'Have some cake.' Why can't I do what I want to do for a change?"

The girl just stood silently, arms folded, staring at the boy, her dark eyes wide. "Finished?"

"No! And I'm sick and tired with people telling me that everything will be fine. Everything will not be fine, not always, anyway. Just because this marriage thing seems to be working out doesn't mean I'm happy with everything."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really! And — and damn, does this hurt." Neil cradled his injured hand carefully, trying hard not to get any blood on his cape. "Now what do I do?"

The girl shrugged. "I don't know. You don't want any advice, you just said. Although that cut does look pretty nasty, and I could help — but no, you don't want anyone telling you what to do. So..." She shrugged again, causing the crude fabric of her dress to rise and fall easily.

"Uh..." Suddenly Neil realized that he'd made a huge mistake. But there was no way to fix it now. "Uh..."

Shaking her head, the girl said, "I'll let this one go. Would you like me to help you keep that cut from getting infected, as it inevitably will if it's let alone for much longer?"

The prince shuddered. Infection. Ew. "Yes, please."