The Theater Event NaNoWriMo

The Reader walked up the steps, excited for what was about to happen. It was about time for the play, Aeterna’s Heir, to have the main event called NaNoWriMo. Another couple of weeks and it was set to premier. The Author was sure to be here in the theater, preparing herself for the intense challenge of writing 50,000 words in a month. The characters were probably already on the stage, trying to get in some last minute practice in before the production.

The Reader was here for a sneak peak. Having followed these characters and the Author for quite some time, The Reader was prepared to get a glimpse of the end, the end of a series that has taken four years to complete. The Reader couldn’t hide the excitement, the anticipation. Four years for the completed story.

The Reader arrived to the balcony, where the Author was watching the stage, correcting characters as need be. The Reader easily spotted her. She sat on the front row of the balcony, her eyes fixed on the stage below, a clipboard on her lap. The Reader felt a grin. What could the Author be thinking? This close to NaNoWriMo? The Reader turned to the stage, eager to see what the Author was working on, expecting something amazing, explosive, revealing…

The Reader wasn’t expecting an empty stage.

This can’t be right, The Reader thought, frowning. Did I get the wrong theater?

No. It was the right theater. That was the Author right there! Determined, The Reader walked up to the Author. She didn’t even seem to notice, her eyes fixed on the stage.

“Excuse me,” The Reader asked politely. “What’s going on here? I thought you and your characters would be working hard on preparing for NaNoWriMo.”

The Author finally glanced at The Reader, a look of surprise on her face. “But I am preparing for NaNoWriMo.”

“There’s nothing on the stage,” The Reader pointed out. “You aren’t doing anything!”

“I am too,” the Author huffed. She brought up the clipboard, showing the Reader what was on it.

“See?”

The Reader frowned. “That doesn’t look like your story. That’s doodling.”

“Yes?”

The Reader blinked. “But!” The Reader protested. “You’re supposed to be working on the story! Aeterna’s Heir is close to the end! I want to know how it ends!”

The Author snorted. “Well, you’re going to have to wait until after NaNoWriMo to get it.”

“Why!” The Reader demanded to know.

The Author frowned for a moment. “Do you know how I prepare myself for NaNoWriMo?”

“Well…” The Reader mumbled. “No.”

“Then perhaps you should know. At least three weeks before NaNoWriMo, I don’t write in my story.”

“What!” That exploded out of The Reader, shocked. No writing!

“This is my fourth NaNo,” the Author went on, staring at the stage again. “And this is the third time this has happened to me. I don’t think its simple laziness on my part. My characters refuse to give me anything productive… My motivation is gearing for NaNo…My mind is often on other things…. And I try to get things done ahead of time so I don’t have to worry about it during NaNo… At first I was worried about it. I was afraid that I was letting you, my Reader, down by not cramming for NaNo. But… This is the third time. I’m fairly certain that this is what I need to prepare myself for NaNoWriMo.”

“An empty stage?” The Reader asked, a bit miffed.

“Apparently,” the Author said, shrugging. “As I said, this is year three this has happened to me. I am preparing myself by letting the story stew in my mind so I can get it all out in NaNo. If I try to write now, I fear I might loose something important in the plot.”

The Reader paused. The Reader hadn’t thought about that.

“So…” The Reader finally said softly. “No story today.”

“Not until I reach 50K,” the Author apologized. “But this is how it works for me. I hope you can live with that.”

The Reader sighed. “I guess I’ll have to.”

The Author smiled. “That’s the spirit! And don’t worry. Once NaNo hits, my characters and I will be working harder than ever. You’ll get the end of the story.” The Author paused, glancing down at the empty stage again. “And then I’ll need to find something else to fill this stage.”

Before The Reader could reply, the Author stood up and shook The Reader’s hand. “Just leave this to me. I know what I’m doing. I’ll see you again. After NaNo.”

The Reader gave the Author a weak grin. “I’ll hold you to that.” The Reader paused. “Good luck.”

The Author grinned. “Thanks.”

The Reader left then, leaving the Author on the balcony and the empty stage before her. The Reader wondered just how the Author would fill the stage below in the coming month. Suddenly The Reader grinned. Waiting a few more weeks wouldn’t hurt.

After all, the Author knew what she was doing.

The Reader left the theater, pausing only briefly to look at the name of the theater plastered on the red brick building. It was a fitting name for the theater.

Enjoy the Journey!

“I’ll see ya after NaNo,” The Reader promised, then walked away.

Armies, Reporters, Spies

Time again for a new post. I know this is a bit shorter than usual, but I’ve only been able to write so much. Stinking sciatica. It’s a pain in more ways than one. However, the post is waiting. To the story!
**********
Terk was sound asleep when someone banged on his door. He lazily opened his eyes and glared at the door. He knew his reputation kept most people from committing the horrid act of waking him up. So that left only two options to why someone was waking him up. The person was an idiot and had no idea just how much trouble they were in. Or the news was worth getting him up for.

Sort of hoping that the person was an idiot so he could act out harshly against the doomed person, Terk rolled out of the bed, his arm aching, and walked through the dark to open the door. Light spilled in from the torches outside.

“You better have a good reason for waking me up,” he grumbled, focusing on the corridor. The stone corridor showed no seams of stonework. It shouldn’t. It was hewed from the stone itself. Fort Pinewood was one of Aeterna’s more ingenuous forts, built into a cliff. It was early on when his army took over the fort. That was an ugly battle that neither side was willing to go through again.

The young soldier immediately saluted, fear itched in his frozen features and shining in his eyes. Instead of answering, he held out what looked like a newspaper.

Terk accepted it, recognizing it as one from Nacre. Before he could register anything else, the words of the headline struck him.

Crown Prince Martin Home!

“He’s in Nacre,” he breathed, quickly scanning the rest of the front page. There was even a picture. There was no mistaking that calm visage, the common face, the small annoying smirk. He scanned the article, confirming small details. Finally, he looked at the date.

“A week and a half ago,” he muttered, doing quiet calculations in his head. It had been almost a month since Captain Stevens had disappeared from his army. Terk had figured that his assassins had gotten too close and the decision was made to hide the prince again. But the newspaper had revealed the truth.

Prince Martin had returned to Nacre.

It was a trap, his calculated mind knew. There was no way that it couldn’t be. Martin Santer was too clever to not know what would happen once he finally settled into place. Nacre may be a large city, yes, but that didn’t mean that he could disappear quickly from it. With his name and face now recognized by the public, there were very few places he could hide.

He was playing bait.

“Clever,” Terk said softly, smiling. The prince would know that the Mad General would know immediately that he would spot a trap. Terk had escaped too many traps to not calculate his knowledge into making a trap. Martin Santer was smart enough to know that only something Terk wanted the most would work as bait to lure him in, even with the knowledge of the trap.

Terk couldn’t let the opportunity of capturing the prince pass. Even with a trap.

“Rouse the men,” Terk snapped. “We move out in an hour.”

“It’s the middle of the night, sir,” the soldier said, frowning.

Slap!

The soldier was sprawled on the floor, crying over a broken jaw.

“I know what time it is,” Terk snapped, crumpling the paper in his hands. “It’s time to end this war.”
**********
Martin focused on the map of Aeterna that was framed on the wall to his left. Since his abilities had been unblocked, he couldn’t quite look at a map the same way again. Although the map only represented what was called Aeterna, he knew more than he really wanted to. Glancing at the large island off of Aeterna’s southwestern coastline, he knew that Evan’s Stand was enduring thick fog. A glance at Jewel Valley told him that the farmers were enjoying a bountiful crop, despite the late planting. Another glance at Seal’s Port he knew that the people were preparing for winter already.

More importantly though, he knew that Terk was on the move.

He had woken up in the middle of the night, hounded with sudden fear as an army marched through the small town that supported Fort Pinewood. Then the fear passed, replaced by relief. Relief of a danger finally gone.

Terk got the news, Martin knew, focusing on the map where he was sure where the army was. Despite how quickly the news got to him, it would take the Mad General just over a month to march his army into Nacre. He had to go over a mountain range, through several forests, ford more rivers. It wasn’t an easy journey for anyone alone, little alone an entire army. Terk’s anger was no doubt roused, but that didn’t make any army go faster.

So I’ve got a month, he thought, leaning back in his chair. He had hoped for a bit longer, another week would be helpful, but that wasn’t what was going to happen. He couldn’t change plans. They had anticipated this. He just had to accelerate his plans some.

Sighing, he dropped his gaze from the map to his desk. Abigail had given him an office shortly after his return. It reminded him a bit of his command tent, with a desk, chairs, and endless paperwork. But there the similarities ended. His desk was facing the door opposite of him, with a large window to his right. The rest of the office wall space was either covered in book selves or paintings. It was a typical office and only time in it would give it the personality that reflected his interests.

He wondered what that would look like.

Shaking his head, Martin focused on the paperwork that Abigail had given him that morning. As he understood it, Fred’s responsibility was to make him into a leader and to understand his powers. Abigail’s was to teach him how to run a nation. And her method of teaching was to throw him right into it.

Fred and Abigail have a lot in common, Martin thought as he started reading through a proposal. It was fine with him, however. He always learned by being thrown into it.

Someone was coming.

Martin looked up as the door handle rattled. “It’s locked,” he said, wondering who thought they could enter his office without knocking.

“Then unlock it.”

Martin grinned. From where he sat, he commanded the door open and Sona walked in. She was dressed very differently from the night before. She wore a simple shirt and pants, her hair pulled back into its usual bun. She carried a large stack of papers in her arms, making it difficult for her. He was surprised that she had managed to turn the handle herself.

“Don’t tell me all that is mine to do,” he said, eyeing the paperwork uneasily as she kicked the door close.

Sona smirked and walked over to his desk. “Actually,” she said, putting the papers on the edge of his desk, “they’re all about you. This is what I’ve been working on.”

“Oh,” he said, still eyeing it nervously.

“I’m now going to tell you what you need to know about yourself,” she said. She promptly sat down on his desk, half laying over his other paperwork, and picked up the top off the stack. “Ready?”

Martin stared at her. “Um,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to talk to you,” Sona snorted. “Now pay attention.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Attention? You’re laying on my desk!”

“I’m the best thing on your desk,” she rebutted, smirking. “Don’t complain. Now, where you went after you were kidnapped.”

“You are pretty distracting on my desk to be teaching me this,” he pointed out.

“I don’t know,” she laughed, sitting back up, swinging her legs over the desk so she faced him. “I’ve got your attention now.”

Martin stood up, placing his hands on either side of her on the desk, and kissed her. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulled back, letting his head rest against hers. “You always have my attention,” he whispered. “But this is a bit too distracting.”

“You have anything better to do?” she asked, her green eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Better?” he asked, smirking. “No. But there are things that need done.”

Sona sighed dramatically and slid off his desk. “Fine,” she chuckled, walking back around and sitting down. “I just wanted to distract you for a bit anyway.”

Martin smiled as he too settled back into his chair. Sona liked playing a flirt with him. To other men, she seemed distant, cold, and uninviting. Martin knew better. She would only play when she wanted to.

“Is that tower of paper really about me?” he asked, pointing to where she left the stack.

“I wasn’t lying,” she smirked. “And I am here to teach you about your past.” She paused. “And in return…”

Whatever her in return was he didn’t get the chance to know. Strong curiosity hit again.

“Great,” he muttered, sinking into his chair. “Ann’s here.”

“Again?” Sona said, frowning. “Does this woman not know when to leave you alone?”

“She’s persistent like you,” he admitted. “Only without your charm.”

Sona immediately glared at the door and Martin was a bit surprised by her sudden flare of annoyance. “She’s not going to get you,” she muttered, sitting up straight.

“She doesn’t think of me that way,” Martin said, a bit hesitant.

“That’s not what I meant either.”

Frowning, he was about to ask her what she meant when the knock came on the door. “Come in,” he said, hoping that he wasn’t about to come between two women.

Ann boldly walked in at first then froze to see that he wasn’t alone. The reporter took a moment to eye Sona, her expression adding facts that she knew. Martin knew that there was absolutely nothing that Ann could conclude from what was in the room about them. She had walked in when they weren’t doing anything.

“Who are you?” Ann asked, completely ignoring his presence with even a nod of the head.

“I am Sona Merette,” she answered calmly, standing up. “I’d ask after your name, but I already know what it is.”

“My reputation proceeds me then,” Ann said, pleased. “But yours does not. Why are you talking with the prince?”

“I’m a researcher,” Sona said, folding her arms defensively. “And he’s my project.”

“Oh,” Ann said, suddenly realizing something. “You’re the one who’s doing his official records.” She eyed Sona again, reassessing whatever conclusion she had first come to. “I didn’t expect you to be so young.”

Sona smirked. “And I expect you to be annoying. You’re not getting the records until I’ve cleared it with him.”

Ann scowled. “Knew I was going to ask after those records, didn’t you?”

“As you said,” Sona said softly, “your reputation proceeds you. I don’t approve of your methods. You’re not getting my project.”

Martin stood up, feeling uneasy as he was pounded with both of their emotions. The women were both angry and annoyed. It made him shiver thinking just how much in common these two women had.

“Ladies,” he said, walking around his desk and stepping between them, the last place he wanted to be. “If you’re going to have an argument, do it outside my office.”

“Of course,” Ann said, glaring at the pretty researcher. “Whatever you say.”

“Do you have an appointment with Prince Martin?” Sona asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. “Because I thought that I had blocked out his morning to have him review my project. Make sure it’s accurate or not.”

“Alone?” Ann asked, sneering. “Aren’t you afraid of rumors?” Martin flinched. While Sona had agreed to let him court her, she did not want attention from the Court yet. Meeting with him alone would get attention.

“Ask anyone on the palace staff,” Sona dared. “I don’t fool around with anyone. Nor tolerate it. I do my work and that’s it.”

“I could still spread rumors,” Ann said, folding her arms.

“Is that a threat?” Sona asked softly, placing her fists on her hips.

“Give me the records,” Ann smirked.

“Hey! They’re my records,” Martin said harshly, glaring at the reporter. “You aren’t getting them until I approve them.”

“At which time, everyone will have access to them,” Ann snorted. “I have a story, Prince Martin. I am determined to get it.”

“By any means necessary,” Sona nearly spat. “You aren’t getting them. My project is not done yet. And no. I’m afraid of you spreading rumors. As far as I’ve heard, there are another eight women around the rumor pool who might be our prince’s mysterious lover. What’s another one?”

Ann took a step back; the look of surprise on her face was as if someone had slapped her in the face. She opened her mouth to say something but then snapped her mouth shut. Without so much as a bow, she left the room, slamming the door shut behind her. The moment she was gone, Martin immediately soundproofed the room.

“You’re not afraid of rumors?” he asked hesitantly.

Sona snorted. “Rumors I can deal with.” She paused and the brave face she put on crumbled to show the fear beneath. “It’s the truth that scares me.”

The look of pain on her face tore at him. Martin quickly strode to her and swept her into his arms. She immediately sagged into him, tucking her head under his chin.

“What makes you think I can do this?” she whispered.

Martin held her tight, knowing she was close to tears. “Because,” he whispered back, “you can stand up for yourself.”

She chuckled weakly, shaking her head beneath his chin. “You’re holding me up right now.”

“Everyone needs some support,” he said, smiling a bit. “And isn’t it best to have someone who will support you back?”

“Stupid idiot,” she mumbled, leaning more on him. “You have another point, don’t you?”

Martin found himself smiling. “I guess I do.”
************
Steve fought the urge to tug against the stiff collar around his neck. Thanks to his uncle’s help, he had managed to get a suit fitting for an impoverished nobleman. Willy had even managed to find a sorry looking horse for him to ride to the palace on. The prince had apparently already warned the guards and staff that he had hired a young and low ranked nobleman to become his page, because no one questioned him as he entered the palace gates. He saw the same people has he had before when he came for the interview the day before, but none of them seemed to recognize him.

He was right about one thing, Steve thought as he walked up the palace steps, flinching as some people took note of him. No one seems to think a servant and a noble can be the same person.

There was something a bit unnerving about that.

He said he’s a master of disguise, he had to remind himself, trying to remember the way to the prince’s office. I shouldn’t be surprised when he tells me that it’ll work.

“For the last time, no!”

Steve paused, his thoughts wrenched back to where he was standing. Before he could register anything more than a hallway, a young woman burst out of one of the many doors lining the hall. She slammed the door behind her and spun around to stalk away.

She didn’t even see him as she hit his shoulder in her hurry to run off.

“Oh,” she groaned, pausing. “Sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

“You did seem a bit distracted,” Steve said, hoping his smile came across as understanding.

The young woman actually chuckled, a sound that Steve found that he liked. She was a pretty girl, perhaps fifteen, with long blond hair and pretty grey eyes. She was also a noblewoman, guessing from the fine dress she wore.

“A suitor you didn’t approve?” Steve guessed, eyeing the room she had just left.

“Oh, yes,” the girl muttered, rolling her eyes. “A persistent fool who can’t take no for an answer.”

“An undeserving man then,” Steve said smoothly. “If he cannot respect your wishes, then he shouldn’t bother asking you for anything.”

She laughed again. “If only most men thought like you do!” She then eyed him, taking in his tattered suit. He suddenly wished that his role didn’t require him to dress like an impoverished noble. However, before he could think of what else he could have passed as, she suddenly smiled.

“You’re working here, I assume,” she asked.

“Caught me,” he sighed dramatically. “I need the money.”

“So you’ll be here a lot then?”

“As long as I can.”

She smiled again. “Then perhaps we’ll run into each other again. Good day.” She turned to go. He hesitated just a moment before calling after her.

“You never gave me your name!”

She paused and half turned. “You may call me Lady,” she said with a smirk.

“Then I’ll be Steve,” he said, returning the smirk. So, a noblewoman who didn’t want to be known. It wasn’t uncommon for a noblewoman to withhold her name from young noblemen, and not for romantic reasons either. It made him wonder what she was trying to hide from him. Or what she was trying to hide from the rest of the court by seeing him.

“Goodbye then, Steve,” she said. Smiling again, she walked off, defiantly in a better mood than how she had left the room. Steve watched her for a moment, smiling unconsciously, when he remembered that he did have an appointment to make. He rushed to make up the time. The prince’s office was near the Santers’ apartments, but was still open to the public. He knocked on the door, hoping he wasn’t too late.

“It’s open,” Prince Martin said from inside. Taking that as an invitation, Steve walked in and paused. Another young woman sat opposite the desk from the prince. She was about the same age as the prince and seemed intent on the papers in her hand. Since she wasn’t dressed as a noble he guessed she had some other purpose in the prince’s office than to catch a husband.

“Ah,” Martin said, standing up from his desk. “Steve. Thanks for coming. Close the door after you.”

Steve did as he was bidden, wondering who the woman was. She didn’t even bother looking up from her paper to see who had entered the room.

“You’re a bit late,” the prince noted, walking around the desk and sitting down on its edge. “A pretty face caught your attention?” Steve just smiled, too practiced to actually blush.

“Martin,” the woman said in a slightly exasperated tone, never looking up from her papers. “Just because only one woman has ever caught your eye does not mean that the rest of the male population doesn’t notice a pretty face.” She paused long enough to glance up at him. Steve was suddenly aware that she saw past the tattered suit and actually saw him. “Hello, Steve.”

“Hello?” he asked, surprised that she knew his name.

“Oh,” Martin said, seeing his surprise. “I should introduce you two.” He gestured to the young woman. “This is Sona Merette. Fellow spy.”

“Research spy,” Sona corrected, reading her paper again. “And I’ve already done research on you, Steve.”

“Really?” Steve asked, uneasy. “What’d you learn?”

“You’re a ladies man,” Sona said in a dull business tone. “A sometimes thief, stubborn, willful, a risk taker.” She paused and put the paper down to give him the full force of her gaze. “But you are also smart, dedicated to Aeterna, hard working, and willing to do anything to meet your goals.”

“In other words,” Martin finished, smiling a bit. “She approves of you as a spy master’s apprentice.”

“Oh,” Steve said, unsure what else to say.

“Now,” Martin said, grinning. “First lesson. To tell if a person is lying.”

Steve blinked. “Seriously?” he asked.

“It’s one of the most basic skills you are ever going to use as a spy,” Sona said, putting the paper down on a large stack on the prince’s desk. “If you can’t tell if a person is lying or not, then you won’t become much of a spy.”

“Besides,” the prince added, shrugging. “Once you know how to tell if a person is lying, you can start working on making it difficult for others to read your lies.”

They had a point. Steve took a deep breath. This was what he wanted. He wanted to be a spy. “Show me.”
**************
I’m pretty sure that Steve is the last of the planned characters in this story. Everyone else is spur of the moment or I-need-a-character-to-do-this sort of thing. But Steve… Martin has to be replaced by someone and someone has to catch Sara’s eye. Thus the character Steve was born. Truthfully, he makes me smile.

Now, if you’ll forgive me, I’ve got some rambling to do. It helps to put my thoughts into writing. Skip it if you want. I just wanted to put this out here.

I’m a bit nervous for this coming NaNo. I’ll be finishing Aeterna’s Heir this November and I’m not sure that it’s going to reach 50K to get there. If I happen to finish this novel before the 50K word mark, I think I’ll write in The Child From Loman or perhaps do some shorts about Martin’s time as Ghost Captain Eighty-One.

But it will be odd. I’m finishing a story that’s been stewing in my head for well over a decade. What will I write next? The Dawmeria Soul? Racer? A Hero’s Wish? The Runaways? Fiction Rider? Will any of these stories fill the place in my heart that Martin has been in for all this time? Can they excite me in the way that writing this one has? Can I move on from Martin Santer and the journey he’s taken me on?

That last question, I think, is what scares me the most. Is Martin my only good story? Can I give these other stories the same love and attention I’ve always had toward him? Then again, perhaps I’m just reluctant to let go and try a new character that will lead me on a different journey. We’ll all just have to wait and see.

Thanks for reading and enjoy the journey!

Chances

Only thirty days until NaNoWriMo! YEAH!!!!! (No, not excited at all!). Anyway, here’s a post that took me a couple days to type. Martin has a question for Sona. Enjoy!
************
Sona needed out. She was surrounded by people she didn’t know, their faces covered with masks and their outfits costumes. She was more comfortable in the enemy camp than in the ballroom! It didn’t help when men kept approaching her and asking her to dance. All they saw was a pretty young woman without an escort. She was fairly certain than none of them knew that she was a commoner.

That alone had her searching for the closest exit.

However, in order for her to get to her room in the servants quarters, she would have to pass through the bulk of the partygoers in the center of the ballroom. She didn’t feel up to that. That left her with one option.

The Santer ballroom had a wall full of windows and doors that led to the garden outside. Though it was a chill evening, the balcony leading to the garden was open for whoever wanted to be outside for a bit. It was early in the evening yet, so many stayed inside the ballroom for dancing, flirting, socializing, and whatever else they could do. She wanted no part of it.

Thankfully, she had entered the ballroom so she was close to the balcony. Even as she walked to the fancy doors leading out, she was stopped by men, all with the same question.

“May I have the honor of a dance?” the fifth man asked her as she neared her goal. He might have been considered dashing. He wore a regular black suit with a plain black mask. His raven black hair was pulled back in a sever tail. He must have been trying to portray a lover.

“I’m sorry,” she said, curtsying somehow in her dress. The man’s eyes twinkled at her flimsy attempt. She blushed. This dress defiantly showed off more chest than she ever wanted. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Waiting?” he asked, frowning. “A shame. A pretty Sea Guardian like yourself normally doesn’t wait for anyone.”

Sona scowled. It was her idea to come as a Sea Guardian, but she didn’t count on having to deal with men thinking she had the same nature as a Sea Guardian.

“You know the stories,” she said, side stepping him. “A Sea Guardian can have a true love. I don’t think you’re him.”

Before he could protest his case, she slipped out, breathing a sigh of relief as the cool air greeted her. Taking a few breaths, she walked out farther onto the balcony. Just as she suspected, there weren’t many people outside yet. A few couples had already disappeared into the gardens to be alone, but at the moment, she was the only one on the balcony.

She slowly walked to the balcony edge, taking off her mask. It was nice mask, perhaps, but it itched. Once off, she put it on the stone railing. Folding her arms, she rested against the stone and stared up at the full moon.

“I am way in over my head,” she whispered. “What am I doing here?”

“To be with him.”

Sona stood straight, looking around. Where did that voice come from? There wasn’t anyone around, not even beneath the balcony. Frowning, she leaned back on the railing, wondering who just spoke to her.

“This is pointless,” she muttered, gazing down at the gardens below. “He’s not coming.” Why she ever thought he would follow her out here, when he hadn’t even seen her and plenty of other women to interest him….

“What are you doing out here alone?”

Sona froze, immediately recognizing that voice. Slowly standing up and turning around, she blushed to find Martin walking towards her. He looked so handsome in his rugged clothes. Girls might like his neatly pressed uniform, but she thought he looked his best in his simple, dust covered clothes.

“Martin,” she said, trying to find her mind again. What could she say?

He stopped beside her, picking up her feathery mask. She suddenly wished she still had it on. At least that would have covered her blushing.

“A Sea Guardian?” he accurately guessed, smiling at her. “That’s a pretty dress. It looks good on you.”

She knew her face was flaming. “You usually don’t care about what I wear,” she said, almost snapping. It figured that he would notice.

“That’s not the case,” Martin chuckled, putting the mask back down. “I think you look wonderful in anything you wear. I’m just noting that you took extra care to look good tonight.” He bowed deeply to her. “And you’ve far surpassed any woman I’ve ever met.”

Sona felt as if her hair was going to burst into flame by how hot her face felt.

“And it looked like you didn’t take much care to your appearance,” she noted, trying to find a topic that wasn’t about how she looked.

“Sara wanted us to be matching,” he sighed as he straightened. “She finally decided on adventurers. I luckily have something that fits that.”

That you do, she thought, wishing her blushing would stop.

Laughter trickled from inside the ballroom. Martin glanced at it and then extended his arm out to her. “Would you like to join me for a walk in the gardens?”

She silently nodded and took his arm. He led her to the edge of the balcony where stone steps led to the garden beyond. She was glad there was moonlight to light their way. Pomace also wanted her to wear tall heels. While she could walk without tripping, heels weren’t her preference.

They walked in silence for a bit, wandering around the paths. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. She figured that they both had something to say and neither of them knew just how to approach it. Once the sound of even the band had faded in the distance, she finally decided to break the quiet.

“I finally understand why you lied about being the prince,” she said softly, not looking at him.

“You do?” he asked, surprised by her choice of topic.

She paused in the path then let go of his arm. She walked over to a nearby pool and gazed down at her reflection. It wasn’t her own. It was of a noblewoman. She was a commoner. “Let’s not drag this out,” she said softly. “You want to marry me. That’s why Pomace convinced the Court to allow you to pick your bride.

“But I don’t think I could be a princess,” she whispered, tears threatening to fill her eyes. “I know nothing of nobility, of politics, of running a nation. And neither did you. You were a street urchin, a spy. What did you know of those things? I don’t blame you for lying. But now you’re the prince.” She closed her eyes tight, trying hard to not cry. “I don’t think I’d be able to do it.”

He lightly touched her shoulders. “And you think,” he whispered in her ear, “that I’m ready? I still don’t have my reflection.”

Sona opened her eyes, surprised to see only herself in the pool. She turned her head to look at him. He smiled sadly at her. “I’m playing a part still,” he confessed. “I’m not a prince yet. If I were, I’d be able to see myself.

“And no one,” he went on, turning her around to fully face him, “not Fred, not the queen, or Sara, or the Court, know me any better than you do. You know what I’ve been through, they don’t. You know how to act around me, they don’t. You know words mean nothing to me, they don’t. You are the only person who has ever fought to know that much about me. You were the one to pursue me.

“And,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers, “because of all that, I don’t want anyone else.”

“But,” she breathed when he silenced her with a finger on her lips.

“You are a wonderful, magnificent, brilliant, beautiful woman,” he said softly, smiling a bit. “I know you don’t see yourself that way. So I just ask you one thing. Just give me a chance to show you the queen I see in you.”

Sona was lost in his hazel eyes. Just a chance? she wondered. A chance to see a greater woman? To match what she saw in her reflection?

To be with the man she loved?

“Alright,” she whispered, hesitantly smiling. “Just a chance.” Martin grinned and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him just as tight.

“I’ll show you,” he whispered in her ear. “You are more than any title in my eyes.”

“Stupid idiot,” she chuckled, burying her face in his shoulder. “You make a mess out of me.”

He chuckled, lightly kissing her cheek. However, before he could give her a witty comeback, music drifted through the night air. She frowned and pulled back a bit.

“Right,” Martin said, glancing around. “Sara wanted this to be an outdoor party. There are musicians wandering around the garden. They’re probably playing for another couple they found.”

Sona couldn’t suppress her laughter, imagining the couple’s shock at being found. “You think they’ll find us? I don’t partially feel like getting mobbed by the Court yet as your mysterious lover.”

“I don’t either,” he snorted. “No. I don’t think they’ll find us.” He paused, gazing at her with a particular expression. Suddenly, he let go of her and gave her a deep bow. “Sona Merette, may I have the honor of this dance?”

She smiled as she curtsied. “The honor is mine.”

They stepped into each other’s arms and began to dance. All spies knew how to dance, Suit made sure of it, but Sona was sure Martin had been practicing. Or perhaps he had always been a good dancer. It was the first time they had danced. At one point, he pulled her close.

“See?” he whispered in her ear. “You can already dance.”

She laughed, spinning out again.

All too soon, the song ended. They didn’t let go, smiling at each other. He started to lean down to kiss her when his expression changed.

“Someone is coming,” he groaned, dropping his head to her shoulder.

“Who?” she asked, feeling a bit annoyed. It was typical that someone had to ruin the moment.

“Considering the strong curiosity I feel,” he said, lifting his head. “It’s Ann Norman.”

“The reporter?” she asked, a bit surprised.

“She’s doing a follow up on me,” Martin complained. “She must have decided that I snuck into the gardens. She’s searching for me.”

Sona snorted. “Well, she can’t have you. Not until I’ve made up my mind.”

Martin stared at her in surprise then burst out laughing. “Oh,” he said, still chuckling. “I love you.”

“I know,” she smirked. “You stupid idiot.”

He grinned. “Do you want to help me get rid of her?”

She returned his grin. “What’s your plan?”
*********
Ann figured that the prince had to be out in the gardens. No one would allow him to leave the ball without a huge farewell. So, leaving out the rest of the palace that he couldn’t escape to, that left the gardens.

“I always knew these gardens were big,” she muttered to herself, wandering aimlessly. She just didn’t expect them to be this big. How was she supposed to find Prince Martin in this huge garden?

You know, Ann, she thought to herself, he could have come into the gardens and then slipped back into his own rooms. It was very possible. He had managed to evade her many times when she tried to interview him as Ghost Eighty-One. The one time she managed to get a long enough hold of him, they got captured and he had to rescue both of them before they got killed.

But she was determined. The thrill of the hunt, of digging deeper to get a story, that was why she became a reporter. The pay may stink, the long hours on the road miserable, but the places she had been and the thrill of seeing her name in print made up for it a hundred times over.

Undaunted of the task before her, she wandered through the gardens, happening across couples and musicians, searching for only one man.

She finally found him standing by a pond, skipping rocks. Alone. She managed to hold in her sigh. Perhaps it was too much to hope to catch him with his mysterious lover.

“Prince Martin,” she called, grinning in a way that she knew annoyed most people.

The prince turned around, frowning to see who had hailed him. “What are you doing here?” he asked, turning back and skipping rocks again.

“I could ask the same of you,” Ann laughed. She walked up beside him, noting the rocks still in his hand. He must have been at it for a while. “Why are you skipping rocks instead of attending your sister’s birthday party?”

“You should already know that answer,” Prince Martin snorted, tossing another rock. “I like some solitude.”

That was an understatement. The prince often sought solitude. Perhaps it was unseemly for a prince, but he did it anyway. It was almost as if…

Suddenly the prince turned, his eyes searching beyond the trees. “Someone’s coming,” he said, sounding a bit uneasy. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got to go. I’d rather not be caught, however accidently, with a woman alone in the gardens.”

Ann frowned. Didn’t she count as being alone with him in the gardens? However, she realized that she was the reporter. She was considered a normal pain and in places where she shouldn’t be. She was the one most likely to set rumors going.

“I could stall,” she offered. Yes, she wanted to find out the prince’s whole story, but she rather not have complications of an insistent stalker. “Give you time to leave. Will you be going back to the party?”

Martin was already leaving when he turned to her, smirking. “Wouldn’t you love to know.” He quickly vanished back into the garden. Ann sighed. That man. She might have found him attractive if he didn’t have so many annoying habits. Nice looking yes, but he had far too many secrets and quirks that put her off.

But that didn’t matter at the moment. She was stalling for him. Turning to face the direction he said someone was coming, she waited patiently for the intruder.

The intruder was a beautiful woman in a sea blue dress. Her feathery mask covered most of her face so Ann couldn’t recognize who it might be. That didn’t matter. Obviously this woman was pursing a prince and she wasn’t going to get him this night.

“Oh, hello,” she said in a light, airy voice, as if she were trying to catch her breath. “Have you, by any chance, seen Prince Martin?”

“That way,” Ann said, pointing in a direction the prince didn’t go. “I’d hurry if I were you. He had another woman on his arm.”

The woman gasped. Gathering her skirts up, she dashed in the direction she had pointed. Ann shook her head. Some women were really dumb. She slowly walked back to the party. She may have lost the prince tonight, but that didn’t mean the next day he would be so hard to track. She smiled to herself. His was a story she would get.
***********
Steve knew he had lost too much time already and would have kicked himself in the butt if he were double jointed to do it. He should have known more of the party before he decided that his entry to the prince’s rooms through the gardens. While it had seemed empty, there were people scattered throughout the gardens. Couples and musicians to be precise. He hadn’t been in the garden for more than five minutes when he ran into a group of musicians. When asked what he was doing there, he had to lie and say that he was looking for his group. He couldn’t refuse their help to find his fictional group.

Then he found himself spending most of the evening with the same group of musicians as their singer as they wandered around the garden to entertain couples. Though the couples were less than amused when they were found. Steve was then pressured into helping the musicians. Because he hadn’t brought an instrument, he was left with singing. He wasn’t too bad at it and knew most of the songs the musicians played.

But the night wore on and Steve knew his time was getting short. He had to steal that dog tonight, before the party was over. Giving his excuse that perhaps his group had already left, he also left the company of the musicians, though they tried to convince him to stay. Giving them his apology, he hurried away, hoping that Prince Martin hadn’t decided to retire early.

He got to the tall wall that surrounded Prince Martin’s private garden. There were a couple iron gates that he could have used to enter, but Steve didn’t want to take a chance. Who knew what sort of magical protection where on those things? His best bet was to climb over the eleven foot wall. But he had come prepared for that. Sliding the bag off his shoulder, he opened it and found his grappling hook and rope. It was an easy toss and he was soon over the wall. The easy part was done. Now for the hard bit.

He carefully approached the apartment, already knowing which door led to the room. The less doors he had to go through, the better. There were no lights on inside, but that meant little. He crept up to the large double doors, scanning the inside like his uncle had taught him. As far as he could tell, no one was inside. The bed was empty, no lights shown from the other rooms. There was very little clutter in the room to hide anything more than a medium sized dog, much less a full grown man. His luck was holding. No one was around.

It took Steve a couple minutes to work on the lock though. It was infused with magic and he had to work around that before he could work on the lock itself. Again thanks to his uncle’s training that he managed to get inside. He paused as he walked in, waiting for a full minute to listen to the sounds around him before he approached the bed and the small stuffed dog that sat on it. It was another trick Willy taught him. A trap generally always let out a sound, be it a soft sound of something about to happen or a sound of alarm. A smart thief knew what to do if a sound went off. But there were no sounds.

This isn’t so hard, he thought, picking the dog off the bed.

The lights turned on.

Steve spun toward the door. Prince Martin stood there, leaning against the frame as he gazed at him with an unreadable expression. Steve felt his stomach drop a hundred feet. Caught in the act. But that wasn’t what made his stomach fall out.

I’m never going to be a spy.

“Come here,” the prince ordered, pointing to the entry room behind him. Steve sighed and did as commanded, his shoulders slumped. He still held onto the dog though. His dreams were dashed because of it. Though, for some reason, he couldn’t blame the dog. It was his own stupidity that he got caught. He should have checked the other rooms first before entering the prince’s room.

“Sit,” the prince commanded, pointing to a chair by the fire. Steve sat, not looking up once. The prince stood in front of him. Steve couldn’t help notice that he wore battered boots and rough pants. It was a masquerade tonight. He probably dressed nothing like a prince tonight.

“Well?” the prince asked, his tone devoid of any emotion. It was a bit unnerving. “An explanation, Willy?”

Steve focused on the boots. “Not really,” he muttered. What could he say? He couldn’t lie, say that he was stealing. There were far more valuable things inside the apartment than the dog. But he couldn’t say that it was a test to become a master spy. Who would believe it?

“Hand it over.”

Steve sighed. Looking up just far enough to see an extended hand, he gave the dog back. His spirit sank farther than his stomach did. How was he supposed to tell the spymaster that he had failed his task? He was probably going to be sent to jail for this.

“Why did you want this?” the prince asked. “There is no monetary value to this.”

Steve shrugged, keeping his eyes on the floor. “Some things are worth more than money.”

“Learned that from your uncle?”

Steve started to say yes, when he realized that the prince had no idea that he had an uncle. The prince should have said that he learned it from his father. He snapped his head up, finally looking at the prince’s face. He wore a smirk similar to the spymaster who had met him near the docks. But those hazel eyes… They were the same.

“Steve Noodle,” Prince Martin said, holding the dog lightly, “you have passed your test.”

“What?” he asked, too stunned to think. It was impossible!

“I am who you think I am,” the prince said. “I am that spymaster you met. I am the one who made a deal with your uncle to get you into the Network. But I am also the prince, Ghost Eighty-One.” He paused and smirked again. “But not many people know that I’m also the Alex of Aeterna.”

Steve felt his jaw drop.

“Disguises,” he went on, “is one of my many specialties. I could walk into the ballroom and no one would recognize me.” He sat down on the short table in front of the fire, looking him directly in the eye. “And you did pass your test. You gave me my toy.”

Steve stared. The turn of events scrambling his thoughts. “But you caught me,” he said, uncertain why those words came out of his mouth.

“Spy lesson number one, then,” Martin said. “You never know who is an ally and who is not. Best keep an open mind on that matter.”

“And you’re the Alex?” Steve asked, still trying to get his mind around the concept.

“Before I was ever the prince or a Ghost,” he confirmed. “Suit, my predecessor, is pressuring me to find my own replacement for the Alex title.”

Steve felt his stomach shoot back up from underneath him and into his throat.

“I’m not saying that you could be the Alex,” Martin said firmly. “But consider yourself a candidate for the position. Either way, you’re now a spy master’s apprentice.”

He couldn’t stop the tears of joy from blurring his vision.

“Don’t get teary on me,” Martin said, his tone sounding a bit tired. “I’ve had enough emotions pounding at me tonight.”

Steve nodded, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes. “When do I start training?” he asked, glad his voice did not reflect his tears. “Do I need to pack and go to the Tree?”

“At some point, yes,” Martin answered. “But I could use you here right now. For reasons I’ll explain later, I need you to do things here. I’ll train you in spying until I can send you to the Tree. Alright?”

“Better than alright,” Steve agreed.

“Good,” Martin said, smiling. “I want you here tomorrow morning. I’ll give you some money to get some nice clothes of a minor noble. I need a page to run around for me.”

“But some of the servants and guards have already seen me,” Steve argued. “They’ll know…”

“I don’t think so,” Martin said. “A boy looking for work is a lot different than a young nobleman who’s working for the prince. You just have to hold your bearing different and talk like a noble.” He paused. “Which I’m told you are one.”

Steve flushed. He had hoped Willy hadn’t said anything of his parentage.

“Don’t worry,” Martin said, seeing his embarrassed expression. “Your secret is safe with me. Now head on out. Don’t want the guards to catch you.”

Once Martin gave him money to get his new clothes, Steve left by a gate and left the grounds. He felt his feet never touched the ground.
*************
Were you expecting a marriage proposal? Snicker. We’re not yet there in the story. Sona needs convinced that she could be a queen. (And yes, that was the Spirit talking to her. Hee, hee, hee!)

Well, time for me to be off for physical therapy. Hopefully I’ll be able to sit down for NaNo. I’m a bit nervous for this NaNo. I think I’ll be finishing the story. I don’t know if I’m ready for that or not…. I shouldn’t be thinking like that. The story isn’t done yet and I doubt that it’ll ever be. Martin’s been a part of my life for too long now for the story just to end. There’s still an entire lifetime to go through, right? ;)

One last question before I head out. Does anyone know anything about publishing or knows someone who does? I think it might be time for Martin’s story to be actually published.

Enjoy the journey!