Interviews

It’s still Friday, and I’m still posting something (even if it is later that I usually do). Last time, Martin got to sit in on classes. Today… There are interviews.
**********
Var was quick to eat dinner. Although Sona had a few appointments after dinner before his, he wanted to get the chance to clean up before meeting with her. He grinned in anticipation as he combed his hair back and tied it up again in a tale. He had been expecting an old crone to be the researcher responsible for the list, but the truth was far more attractive. She was as beautiful as one of his own glass sculptures, with those green eyes, flowing brown hair, and all the right curves. Sona Merette was defiantly a work of art. And he loved art.

And her warning about not looking for a husband? She was obviously talking to the other men. Why else would she stare in his direction with a smirk on her lips?

Oh, yes, he thought, picking out his best attire and putting it on. She would be art in his hands by the end of the interview.

Sona’s office was in the mansion, near one of the gardens. He also knew that the queen’s office was in the same hall. This, he reasoned, was so that the two women could discuss the princes without having to travel far to find each other. Tugging down on his vest, he walked boldly up to the researcher’s office door and knocked.

“Come in,” said that heavenly voice. Throwing his shoulders back, Var opened the door and walked in. Sona sat behind a desk, absently writing something. She obviously hadn’t had time to do much of anything in her new office. Boxes were stacked neatly behind her and there was a pile of files already sitting on her desk. Other than that, the room was deprived of anything except the desk and a few chairs. She looked up as he closed the door.

“Var Bontaren,” she said, checking the schedule. “Take a seat.”

Var sat down, eyeing the young researcher. How did a lovely girl like that end up working on this project? If she had been any village girl, she would have been engaged or married by now. Pondering what her story was like, he watched as Sona quickly looked through the files on her desk before pulling one out.

“Let me see,” she muttered, flipping through the pages. “Your records say that you were found outside of Seals Port when you were five, wandering around. The Halbrights took you in. When you were twelve you were accepted as an apprentice for the local Glassmith.” He chuckled softly to himself. She paused then, looking up at his amused expression. “Something funny?”

“You seem to know a lot about me already,” he chuckled. “Seems hardly your trouble to ask us all to meet you when you already know so much about us.” It only strengthened his theory that she was actually searching for a husband, no matter what she said in front of the class.

Sona snorted. From another woman, the sound would be disgusting, but from a woman like her, it was beauty to his ears. “I am a researcher, Master Bontaren. I know how often records are incorrect. And no, I don’t know everything about everyone.” Her face scrunched, as if she remembered a particularly hard record she could not track. “There are some secrets that I have not been able to get my hands on.” Oh, yes, there was a story behind that.

“For instance,” she continued, reading the file again. “Your master sent you to Venter to learn from other glassmiths there when you were fourteen.” She leaned back in her chair, her gaze suddenly uncomfortable. “You returned just over a year ago. Four years of your life is not on record, Var.”

Var stiffened as she spoke. Her tone was almost accusing him. “I was busy learning,” he said, hoping the tone sounded innocent, but couldn’t keep annoyance out of his voice. “Surely that isn’t a crime.”

“No,” she agreed, still staring at him coolly. “But, in case you have failed to notice, we are at war with Venter. So much time spent behind enemy lines, don’t you think?”

Var felt himself getting nervous. The conversation was not going how he was expecting. “But I came back,” he pointed out. “And besides, I don’t know what my training in Venter would mean to you, since you’re trying to find the prince.”

Sona raised an eyebrow, surprised by his quick answer. “I suppose not,” she said slowly, jotting something down on his file. “Tell me, what do you remember before the Halbrights took you in?”

Var gladly launched into his story, anything to distract the pretty researcher from digging into his time in Venter. She listened politely, writing things down randomly as he talked. It was only when he started taking about when he was ten and was taking up a dare did he realize just how much he was talking.

“Listen to me,” he said, shaking his head and smiling. “I’m just prattling on about my life.”

“That’s alright,” Sona assured him. “That’s the point of this interview. You’ve given me some interesting things to consider.” She did not explain what he had said for her to consider. “But it is getting late. It’s been a rather long day and I’m ready to go to bed.”

“Of course,” Var said, smiling as charmingly as he could. They both stood and he opened the door for her, motioning her to go before him. She nodded her thanks, and as she walked past him, he reached out and rubbed her shoulder.

“You’re tight,” he noted, pleased to feel her soft shoulder. “Perhaps I could…”

WHAM!

Before he could register what had happened, he was pinned against the door, his hand hurting, and a knife tapping his nose.

“You forget yourself, Var,” Sona said as she let the tip of her knife rest on his nose, danger in her voice and in her flashing eyes. “I am not here to find a husband. Oh, I’ve read about your conquests with the girls. Let’s get something straight now, shall we? I am not interested in you. I never will. No amount of charming smiles or flourished bows will make me change my mind. And if you ever touch me again, you’ll find my aim with a knife to be…” She smiled wickedly. “Accurate. Understand?”

Var stared cross-eyed at the knife. It looked plenty sharp. Where did she get it? “I understand,” he said slowly, not daring to nod his head least the knife cut him.

“Good,” she said cheerfully, stepping back and replacing the knife inside her sleeve. Someone chuckled. Looking around, they saw Martin standing across the hall, his expression quite amused.

“Yes?” Sona asked. Was it Var’s imagination, or did her voice softened as she addressed the Ghost?

“What are you doing here?” Var demanded to know before the Ghost could answer the researcher’s question. “There are no more interviews for the day.”

“Oh,” Martin said, waving off Var’s heated tone. “I’m just renewing my faith in Aeternan women.” It wasn’t Var’s imagination when Sona looked pleased with the Ghost’s comment.

“You find dangerous women attractive, Martin?” Sona asked, her tone different from what she had just used. Her tone was more… teasing?

The Ghost bowed to her; it was one of the most mocking bows Var had ever seen. “I learn to greatly respect dangerous women, Lady Sona.” He straightened, smiling. “And I have a great deal of respect for you.”

Sona actually blushed. Blushed! This was the same girl who had threatened him with a knife just moment before. Var stared at them, sudden insight dawning on him. Sona wasn’t smiling at him when she announced that she wasn’t looking for a husband. She was smiling at the Ghost! Var glared at the man. Sona was the first girl who didn’t at least let him kiss her, and this Ghost, this common face and dull appearance, seems to have caught her attention. How?

“Your interview is tomorrow afternoon,” Sona said quickly, as if to cover her blush. “Don’t be late.” Smiling, she closed the door to her office, locked it, and left in the direction opposite of they had to go. She was humming.

“You know her?” Var asked, trying to understand what had just happened.

“We’ve worked together before,” Martin said distractedly, watching as the researcher disappeared from view. He returned his attention to him. Var flinched as those hazel eyes stared at him. “She’s something, isn’t she?” Smirking, Martin turned away and walked down to the tents. Var reluctantly followed but did not try to catch up with the Ghost, glancing back to the office door where he almost got knifed.

Something wasn’t adding up. Var couldn’t put his finger on it. I’m going to have to dig into this, he thought as he walked outside. He nearly shivered. He had promised himself no more digging, but the Ghost and researcher were too tempting to pass up.
***********
Martin was awake before his tent mates and headed for breakfast as they finally climbed out of bed. All three of them looked annoyed to realize that they were in the same tent as a morning person. Martin just gave them his most annoying smirk before heading out. Others might curse him for being a morning person, but Martin always thought it was rather fun. There were more hours to the day and everyone’s annoyed look always just made him happy.

He wasn’t the only one at the dinning tent. Several men and women already arrived, taking their seats and waiting for the day to begin. Martin reluctantly made his way to the bachelor table, briefly wishing he were married. Maybe then the girls wouldn’t be so quick to flirt with him.

Over the next hour, the tent slowly filled. Severing girls started moving around the tables, giving breakfast out for those who had already arrived. Martin watched, wondering why they had so many serving girls. Wouldn’t it have been easier, and cheaper, to let the men serve themselves? Before he could figure out why, the same serving girl who had served him at lunch yesterday came up and placed food in front of him.

“You look troubled,” she noted, sitting down next to him uninvited. “Anything I could do to help?”

“I’m just curious,” he said, glancing down at the plate full of eggs and sausages, “why there are so many servants running around.” No need to mention that the majority of the servants were women.

The girl smirked. “You’re wondering why there are so many women?” When he didn’t answer, she leaned forward on the table, resting her head on her hands. “It’s politics. A lot of nobles know that the prince is somewhere in this group. While most of these men are married, there are a few exceptions. The nobles threw a fit that if the queen insists on teaching these men to become princes, that there should be servants to attend their needs. You know, get them used to servants. And to keep it fair, every estate could send so many servants.”

“And they sent women,” he sighed, finally figuring it out. “Hoping a girl from their lands will land the prince.”

“Exactly!” she cheered, smiling. “It’s a great opportunity, don’t you think?” She eyed him; Martin felt like a piece of meat she was considering purchasing from the way she stared. “Tell me… has anyone caught your eye yet?”

Martin faced the girl, copying her position. “As a matter of fact,” he said, keeping his tone equally cheerful. “I have. I’ve yet to gather the courage to ask her out, but the time is coming. So, if you wouldn’t mind, stop flirting with me.”

The girl’s face fell. “Fine,” she said coldly. “You’re not much to look at anyway.” Standing up and tossing her head, she left him alone to his breakfast.

“Good riddance,” he muttered, glancing at his breakfast again. As he started eating, someone else joined him.

“You know,” Thomas said, placing his plate down, “it’s not a good thing to upset the servants. How are you supposed to spy on them?”

“That’s Luke’s job,” Martin pointed out. “Besides, he’s better at dealing with flirtatious women.” He paused. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Eating.”

Martin rolled his eyes. “I mean eating down here and not at the high table.”

Thomas sighed, moving the food around his plate with a fork. “Her Majesty thought it might be better for me. Meet new people, she said. Make contacts, she said. Find out who is my son, she said.”

“I doubt that last bit.”

“It was implied,” Thomas waved off.

“Your Grace!”

Thomas groaned, bowing his head into his hands. Martin turned around to see Jordan and Calvin joining them. The moment they sat, two girls came with their breakfast. Jordan grinned at Thomas.

“What brings you to our table, your Grace?”

“Oh,” Martin answered for Thomas, smirking. “Meeting new people, making contacts…”

“Thanks, Martin,” Thomas said dryly.

“I’m just returning a favor,” he said cheerfully, remembering the day before when the noble kept interrupting his story.

“Don’t tell me,” sneered a voice from behind. “You’ve worked with the duke as well?”

Thomas and Martin glanced back to where Var was standing. Var didn’t look as impressive as he did the night before when Sona had threatened him.

“Actually, he’s my friend,” Thomas said coolly. “Who are you?”

Introductions were then made, Var managed to keep the superiority out of his voice, Calvin tried to seem impressive, and Jordan was simply… Jordan.

“I’m supposed to be joining you in your classes,” Thomas told them when it was asked again why he was sitting with them. “Her Majesty thought it would be good for me.” He paused. “What’s your first class anyway?”

“Politics,” Var grumbled. “I don’t think anyone likes that class.”

“All we’ve done so far is memorize nobles and government officials,” Calvin agreed, looking bored. “As if we didn’t already know the difference between dukes and counts.”

“Some of us are still having problems with it,” Jordan said, sounding hurt that he was the only one who seemed to be ignorant of noble life. “They’re just trying to prepare us for life as a prince.”

“But only one of us is the prince,” Var pointed out, his tone heated. “They’re wasting time and resources on us. There has to be an easier way of finding out who the prince really is.”

“There are the interviews…” Jordan quietly pointed out.

“Speaking of interviews,” Martin cut in, noticing the queen walking in. Others noticed and stood, but most everyone else did not. “I have my interview after breakfast.” By that time, everyone in the tent had noticed the queen was present and the buzz of chatter died down. Abigail merely waved at them to continue and the noise rose back up. Martin wondered why the queen wanted these interviews. Would she spot something that Sona would not? He suppressed a shiver, not looking forward to his time.
**********
Abigail had greatly enjoyed breakfast, though the report Professor Collen had handed her put a sour end to the meal. He had listed a number of trouble makers in his class, hoping to get permission from her to set these students in a different class. As she read the note, it said that these trouble makers already knew the material he was trying to teach and needed something more to engage their minds. She didn’t really want to have a separate class for these men. The point of the classes was to get all these men to the same level until they found her son, not to segregate them.

But she had to put the matter aside for the time being. She had reached her office and the first interviewee was there for his appointed time.

“Are you always early, Martin?” she asked as she approached. The Alex bowed briefly as she unlocked the door.

“I try to be,” he said, following her into the office. Like Sona’s office, the queen had very little time to unpack. But unlike the researcher, she had brought very little in the way of paperwork. Her attendants kept most of it and only brought papers when it needed to be brought to her attention. Remembering important papers, she took the letter she received at breakfast and set it in a drawer. It could be dealt with later.

“Please sit,” she said, sitting down herself. The young spy sat, turning his chair a bit so he could occasionally glance at the door without having to turn his head too much. Abigail shook her head but said nothing. Martin had been trained to be careful and she wasn’t going to try reversing that training if it could save his life.

“How are you doing?” she asked, the same question she asked all of the men who came into her office. “Enjoying your time here?”

Martin shrugged. “I’ve annoying roommates, lessons that I’ve already learned, and Master Fall wants to give me private fencing lessons. I haven’t gotten a chance to poke around…”

“Martin” she said firmly, cutting the spy off. He stopped and frowned. “I don’t want a report on your finds. That’ll be later tonight. Sona and I need a private meeting with you about some people we’d like you to keep an eye on. But that business is for tonight.” He looked confused. She tried to give him an encouraging smile. “The point of my interviews is to get to know the listed men. Yes, you are currently you are under my orders, but you’re also on the list. I just want to talk to you, get to know you.”

Martin leaned back in his chair, his expression uncertain. “You should already know me,” he said slowly. “It’s in record…”

Abigail laughed. “Records tell me what you’ve done, not who you are. Yesterday, I learned that one man likes to fish, another secretly writes poetry, and yet another dreams of owning his own horse farm. None of those things are on record.”

For some reason, Martin looked even more troubled. “I don’t talk much about myself.”

That was an understatement. The spy was duty bound and kept everything else quiet. Abigail knew this was going to be a hard interview when she came across his name on the schedule. “Then I’m just going to have to spark the conversation. You’ve traveled all over Aeterna. What’s your favorite place to visit?”

Martin blinked, surprised by how quick she was with a question. She had decided it was the best question to ask him. According to Sona, the spy had a tendency to steer the conversation away from him whenever possible. To ask his opinion might be the trick to open him up to other things. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he considered her question.

“I’d have to say,” he said slowly, “that I really like the Morvan Woods.”

Abigail raised her eyebrows, surprised by his answer. She would have thought he liked Evan’s Stand or some other city. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Well… It was the first forest I’ve ever seen. Loman doesn’t have many trees, except in rich people’s gardens. Then I came to the Stand, then Nacre, but then… I saw the Morvan Woods. It amazed me to see so many trees that weren’t placed there by human hands. It was… beautiful.”

Abigail then understood. A child who had seen nothing but streets and buildings would find nature to be different. She smiled at him. “It is beautiful. Have you done much there?”

Much to her pleasant surprise, Martin had done much. He reluctantly talked of his time spent there shortly after he had arrived to Aeterna, and Abigail didn’t press to ask why he had. There was a well known retreat in the Morvan for the healing of the sick. If the scars on his back were any indication, he must have at least spent a season there recovering. But as the conversation drifted away from his first time in the forest, he talked of the many training sessions he had there, seemingly happy to talk about it.

She listened with enjoyment. This was why she insisted on these interviews. These men, even the great Alex, had lives. They had their passions and dreams. She wanted to know those passions and dreams of her son before she took him to Nacre. She wasn’t about to deny him the pleasures he had enjoyed as a civilian.

There was a polite knock on her door. Martin glanced at the door, stopping in mid sentence about the time he had been learning about wilderness survival.

“I guess my interview is over,” he said, a bit surprised. “I can’t believe I talked so much.”

Abigail laughed. He wasn’t the first man to say that to her after an interview. “It’s alright,” she assured him. “I’m glad we could talk. Remember though, I do want a private meeting with you tonight about your orders here. Make sure no one sees you.”

Martin stood up and bowed to her. “Of course, Your Majesty. Shall I let the other man and his wife in?”

“Yes. Thank you for coming.” Martin bowed again and let the young couple in. Abigail briefly wondered how the Alex knew it was a couple outside her door, but as the couple sat, the question left her mind and did not return.
*************
Oh, Abigail, if only you paid more attention to the fact that he had known there was a couple outside your door. But my plot hasn’t yet gotten to that point. I’ve still got a long ways to go before Martin gets revealed.

And for the record, I really enjoyed writing the scene between Var and Sona. I’m debating wither I should let her carry out her threat or have Var loose his courage….

Did anyone realize that NaNoWriMo is less than a month away now? What is it about NaNo that gets me writing? Is it the ridiculous short deadline? The ridiculous number of words that need to be produced? Or a combination of both? Whatever it is, I’m sure to be writing up a storm when it comes.

But that’s still a few weeks away. Next week’s post is going to be the private meeting where Martin gets to begin his spying work. Until then, enjoy the journey!