Fall breeze made the leaves above him flicker. Their rustling sound grew, rushing through all the foliage of the garden. It passed through. Gradually it faded and all was quiet. Leave stilled again. Pulling his coat tighter around him, he took another bite of his apple. He chewed on the crispy sweetness just as he chewed on his curiosity. It'd been tickling his brain all day.
Her petite little frame had been dancing across his mind. She was so much shorter than the average elf. In fact, she was far from average. While most elven females were full and voluptuous, she was not. Her chest was nearly flat, and her lose robes gave no hint to the rest of her figure. But like most elven females, her face was gorgeous, symmetrical perfection. He knew she was just over nine centuries old, but she looked like a young female just come of age. There was look of perfect innocence in her features. Straight pastel pink hair that fell past her waist added to the illusion.
What kept pestering him was the way a bright lightening crackled across her glowing white irises when he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Directly afterward her eyes widened at him as if in fear. Long pointed ears practically curled down as her mouth slightly gaped open. She'd violently snatched his fingers from his hand, and denied him the ability to perform goodbye formalities.
Why? What had made her react like that? Had she seen something?
His curiosity was hungry for an answer.
He was glad to have the early evening to finally contemplate it. The day had been laden with formal greeting, small talk, and sporadic audiences with Councilmen. Even with the mental and social exhaustion, there was still that burning on the surface of his mind. Another bite, and more thinking as he finished the fruit.
He flicked the core with a couple fingers. It landed in a perfectly manicured bush. Turning his head, he watched Reginald munch at his apple. He was perfectly perched on a weather worn decorative statue of a noble stead. One leg was dangling as it lightly swung. Elbow rested on the bent knee of the other. His gaze was focused elsewhere.
“Did you notice her eyes?” He finally asked.
Reginald lifted a brow as he looked at him.
“Whose? I've seen a thousand beautiful eyes today.”
“The High Seer's.”
“Was there something unique about them? They look like any other elven eyes. Just glowed white.” He said, taking another bite of his apple.
“You didn't see the flash of light?”
Reginald frowned as he chewed.
“The what?”
“The light. When I placed a kiss on her hand during our introductions, lightening flashed across her eyes.” He repeated.
Reginald snorted and swallowed.
“Father has you staying up too late reviewing Historical Commerce records. Your lack of sleep is making you see things.”
That left him insulted.
“I'm not delusional. There was light. Did you not see her reaction? She seemed suddenly withdrawn after I saw it.”
“I did, but I just assumed it was because of your face. You're always so serious.” He snickered.
He huffed.
“It wasn't my face that caused her to react that way.” He grumbled.
Reginald shrugged, “Who knows.”
He sighed in mild annoyance.
“I'd bet my title that the light means she had a vision.” He thought out loud.
“That's a high price to bet.”
“That's because I'm so sure of it.”
“So suppose you won your wager, what makes you care so much?”
“I'm curious to know what she saw,” He mused, “I wonder if it was about me.”
“So narcissistic.”
He shot him a half glare.
“Would you take me seriously for five minutes?”
Reginald's grin curled.
“Seriousness is for the gods.” He sniggered his reply.
Resting his head back, he stared at the leaves above him again.
“Reggie, I swear to Lady Fate…” He groaned.
Chuckling again.
“If you want a serious answer, then no. I don't think it was about you. What would make you so special to trigger or show up in her visions?”
He breathed a laugh.
“I suppose that's a more rational assumption.”
“Mhm. More likely it would be something about Thad. He's the heir to the throne.”
“We may find out on the first day of Deliberations. I saw several relics being transported to the main hall.”
“Maybe. Do they plan to attempt to trigger a vision that early into Deliberations?”
“I'm sure they are. Thad says the Magi are sensing a deep disturbance in time threads.”
Reginald grunted.
“He didn't tell me that.”
“He told me in passing last week. There wasn't much for him to expand on. It seems the Magi aren't getting many details from the dust catchers and the Lesser Seers aren't able to channel clear visions.”
Reginald hummed as he chucked his apple core. It landed in a far off flower bed.
“So that's why they summoned her. She's the most powerful High Seer in the Clan.”
“Yes, so hopefully one or more of the relics trigger a vision. That way the rest of Deliberations can be dedicated to what she reveals.”
The pause in conversation was filled with another noisy breeze.
“I'm going to ask for her for a dance at the Welcome Banquet. If her eyes flash again, then I'll be in no doubt.” He said his thought out loud.
Reginald chuckled.
“Do you even remember how to dance?”
“Of course I do.”
“I doubt it, I haven't seen you dance since your twentieth birthday.” He teased.
“I've had no reason to.” He justified.
“There have been hundreds of reasons! Beautiful unattached females every Deliberation banquet, and still you chose to nurse a glass of spirits.”
He looked at him again. Reginald was giving him his curling grin. He narrowed his eyes at him.
“Why are so obsessed with my love life?”
“Because I find heckling you to be endlessly entertaining,” He snickered,“The thought of you being a virgin forever just tickles me silly.”
He narrowed his eyes further into a glare.
“I will not remain so.” He retorted.
“Are you even attracted to females?”
“Of course. It's just that I've found none that intrigue me.” He defensively replied.
Reginald rolled his eyes and flicked his hand across the air.
“What in Lady Fate's sake do you need a female to be to find her intriguing?”
He sighed before switching his gaze to the bush he'd flicked his apple into.
“I'm…unsure.” He slowly said.
Reginald clicked his tongue.
“You're a hopeless cause. At this rate I might as well call you an old Bachelor.”
A thud made him look back. Reginald had dismounted and was dusting off the back of his breeches with his hands.
“In all seriousness, John,” He said as he straightened his coat, “You need to find a bride. You're going to be completely disheveled when I find a female to wed because you'll no longer have me exclusively to yourself.”
He held Reginald's stern look. It made his gut sour. He didn't like it when he was right. With a grunt, he got to his feet. Mimicked dusting off his breeches and straightening his jacket. He stepped up to him and gave him a look.
“You think I'll miss your company that much?” He quietly asked.
Reginald's smirking grin returned to his mouth and eyes.
“Of course you will, you'll be pining for me.” He sniggered.
He groaned once more, “You bastard.”
“Why thank you, dear brother.” His reply was jovial.
Reginald turned on his heel. His hands were shoved in his coat pockets. The heels of his boots were clicking on the slate tile garden path. He quickly caught up to his prancing gate.
“What should we request for dinner?” He seemed to already be contemplating.
“Anything.”
“John, you kill me. Don't you prefer something?”
“Reggie, you know I don't…”
“Yes, Yes, I know you don't have a preference. You'll eat anything.” He said, amused frustration in his voice.
His hand was waving around in the air again. It made him chuckle.
“How about some rosemary braised pork, hm?”
“Didn't we have that yesterday?”
“And your point?”
He bellowed a laugh. Reginald joined him.
“I think I may also need a glass of wine,” Reginald said as they stepped through the opened arched wrought iron gate back into the castle,“You drive me to drink.”
He shook his head and chuckled again. The halls and main corridors were more crowded than usual. It was mostly human servants and handmaids quickly shuffling about. Other races were sprinkled in. He watched a couple of Satyrs walk by. Their large cloven hooves clopped along the stone. tanzanite colored fur seemed to shimmer in the fading day light. Goat like legs left exposed due to thick fur, but upper bodies covered in loose poet shirts of dark colors. Their ears twitched under curled horns. Stubby fluffy tails flicked. As they passed, he caught a bit of their native dialect. It sounded like soft hissing.
They were progressing into the older part of the Castle. Their path became more disjointed. It was no longer streamlined. That didn't matter, this was the part of his home he liked best. Map of comfort in his head. A succulent mix of what he could imagine as dozens of dishes wafted into his nose. The kitchen was quickly approaching.
In a little nook nestled in a disorganized dead end, a dinged up set of swinging metal double doors sat unassuming. Reginald ceremoniously pushed them open. They sent a smacking sound echoing into a crazy machine of cooks, chefs, apprentices, and waiters. A few heads snapped up to look at them. Reginald put on a showman's air, and hopped in. He followed in after him.
“Good evening, wonderful men and women dedicated to the cornucopia of life,” He said in a near sing song voice, “Where might I find our fantastic Head Chef Ortez?”
His statement brought forth a couple laughs, amused smiles and an equal number of eye rolls and mumbled complaints. A couple chefs pointed to a small room at the far part of the kitchen. A hop, and Reginald was back to his prancing step. He fell in stride behind him, amused with his brother's comical demeanor. Familiar with the lay out, they passed by dozens of stations. Pots for stews. Cast iron stoves for sauteing. Marble counter tops for food prep. Above it all hung racks laden with every sort of kitchen utensil imaginable. He always kept clear of the cleavers and butcher knives that dangled by leather straps threaded through their handles.
A jolly laugh greeted them when they stepped through the door. The Head Chef was leaning back in a chair far too small for his stout and round stature. Bubbly cheeks red with either exertion or heat matched the large belly. Balding head with graying hair shined under the lamp above his head. His grin was a happy one, exuding an air of welcome. His apron may have been pristine at one time. Now it boasted of food samples he'd prepared over the years.
His attention was caught on an elf. He instantly recognized her. Gledora, the High Seer's handmaid. Her attention was fixed on the chef. A white mug was cupped in her hands. From what he could see, it contained tea. A straight smile was on her face as he over heard their banter.
“…more than once or twice.” Ortez was brightly saying.
His thick accent was distinct to the Moors, a Province in the most Southern part of Human Territory. It always reminded him of the beautiful marshlands.
“It is an essential staple in all elven households.” Gledora said in fondness.
“Can't blame ya. It's a staple in my kitchen as well.” He chuckled.
Reginald quickly made himself the center of attention. With a skip, he was settled onto the corner of the Chef's desk. Elbow on a knee, and chin on his fist. Free hand resting on the desk as his set his smile at full charm. Both Gledora and Ortez broke their conversation to look at him. Ortez shifted in his chair. Another jolly laugh as he laced his fingers and rested his hands on the crest of his belly. His gaze glanced between them both. Gledora straightened as her eyes examined Reginald.
“Good Evening your Highnesses, of what do I owe the pleasure?” His voice bumbled.
Reginald instantly chuckled and tapped his fingers on the wood surface.
“I was going to say that I missed seeing your lovely face, but I can't help but be stunned by your beautiful visitor.” Reginald playfully replied.
Ortez laughed and Gledora's smile turned into an amused one.
“You can't fool me, my boy,” Ortez said, “We all know your true intentions.”
Reginald turned his face into a look of exaggerated despair.
“Oh Ortez, how well you know me. I've returned to grovel at your feet once again to ask that you run away with me.” He whined.
Ortez nearly fell backwards in his chair as he bellowed a hardy laugh. He couldn't help but chuckle himself as he watched Gledora cover her mouth as she visibly laughed along. Reginald's face turned smug. He was pleased with himself as he snickered. When Ortez wiped his brow and heaved a breath, Gledora began to walk past them towards the door. He kept an eye on her.
“Ah, my beautiful lady, leaving so soon?,” Reginald asked, shifting his posture to look at her, “I was rather enjoying your company.”
“I am sorry to disappoint, Young Master…,” She began to reply.
She paused. Her eyes suddenly flicked to him. He was sure he saw a twinkle in them. Smile lifted up in the corner as she slowly looked him over. The expression on her face triggered a strange sense of confusion. Her gaze returned to his again before she spoke.
“…but I do not wish to keep Elder Willowheart waiting.”
With that, she gracefully curtsied and left their presence. He blinked several times at were she'd been standing. A frown on his brow.
What was that look for?
Confusion peaked into curiosity. That was surely something. There was no mistaking it. She'd made it completely obvious. But there was no context for it. Nothing he could remotely guess.
Reginald's teasing voice cut his chain of thought.
“Why John, I'd like to fancy that you've found an admirer.”
One more blink and he cleared his throat. He could hear Ortez chuckle in amusement. He turned his head to give Reginald a frown of doubt. His smile curled up under his look.
“You read far too much into things.” He said.
Reginald huffed and flicked his hand.
“And you, not enough. I could be signaling you from the tip of your nose and it wouldn't dawn on you.”
Ortez snorted, it made Reginald snigger. He rolled his eyes and went back to staring at the doorway. It seemed Reginald was done toying with him, he was back to heckling Ortez. Their conversation became lost on him as his brain revisited the tracks that'd been de-railed. If Reginald had noticed, then surely it was something. What it was, he'd like to know.