Revolting Rose

Chapter 2/Part 1 - Creatures of the Night

Ten whole minutes passed as Zaech waited at the top of the dungeon stairs. It felt like half a lifetime. Not a thing had happened. It was little better when his Amphelian adviser, Skarra, landed beside him. While Zaech considered him a friend, it was merely out of necessity. Skarra was not much more interesting than staring into the abyss.

"Pagne fell for it, just like you said he would," Zaech chirped to him, "but he hasn't been dragged out yet."

"Kabech might be scolding him down there," Skarra replied, his coo as flat and colourless as his feathers. "But we shouldn't be here when they come out."

Zaech did not care to disagree, so he led the way to the Palace's dining pod. "You really heard something about him being Kabech's heir?" he asked Skarra along the way.

Hard as it was to believe, Skarra's nod could not be argued. Unlike Pagne, the grey bird did not deal in hollow rumours.

"Well, his little adventure ought to have put a stop to that," Zaech said, perching at the dining pod window.

He hopped on in and landed gracefully inside to the awe of the servants inside. They were forever waiting for something to bring a little excitement to their dreary lives. So when Zaech blessed them with his presence they were always thrilled to bits. Alas, a squabble broke out soon after between a maid with a bowl of seeds and another with meal worms and threatened to spoil the mood.

"There's no reason I can't have both," said Zaech, putting an end to the fight. He gave each one of his feathers, a token to let them know they were welcome to visit his room after dinner.

Such lovely things were the Tyvern maids, but they had nothing on the high-born Ladies who made courtship such a delightful challenge. Just thinking about all those talon-less legs gave him goosepimples in anticipation for the Season. Perhaps this would be the year he would find one fit to become the Princess of Amphelius.

He made sure to inform Skarra of all the qualities he was looking for in his princess as they munched through two courses, but the conversation was interrupted midway into the third when Mister Nibbs and Lord Kabech finally arrived, looking as wretched as ever.

"Where do you suppose Pagne is?" Kabech asked Nibbs, his voice more nasal than a talking nose.

Luckily the pair of them sat at another tablecap, which made avoiding eye-contact easier, but they were close enough to listen in on.

"Pagne is busy with his work, my liege. The Season starts next week, so I suspect he is eager to get his preparations finished," Nibbs answered, then shot a glare as pointy as his nose at Zaech. "Unless you know something that I don't?"

It really ruffled his feathers and he almost choked on a grub. He never could hold up to that flesh-searing leer.

Fortunately, Skarra stood up and drew Nibbs' gaze away. "I asked him to go into the dungeon," he grunted, saving Zaech from the blame.

"How dare you! Leave this room at once, the both of you," Lord Kabech shouted. "Mister Nibbs will have some stern words with you after supper!"

Zaech leapt up to defend himself, spilling a bowl of mealworms in his rush. "It's not my—"

"Get to your feet, turn to the door and promptly hurl yourselves through it, or Mister Nibbs shall do it for you!" Kabech demanded right over the top of him. His wrinkles wobbled like a turkey's snood and ruined what what was left of Zaech's appetite.

"I've eaten my fill anyway. Come along Skarra, I'm tired."

Cruelly deprived of dessert, Zaech led the way to the bed chamber where better company would be awaiting them. His piece of the palace was filled with the prettiest Tyvern maids, sprawled over the furniture in the traditional clothing of Amphelius. Their costumes glittered with jewels, though not quite to the level of the royal silk wrap Zaech wore around his loins. Still, having his eyes filled with such beauty cheered him up, and he was eager to have them indulge his other senses.

"I will retire to my roost, if I have your permission, Prince," Skarra said, and gave a low bow.

"You enjoy your own company too much." Zaech rolled his eyes at the colossal bore.

Just as Skarra turned away, a maid came scuttling up the hall and stopped just short of colliding with him. She was wearing a horrid green rag that did not fit her at all, with garish make-up slathered on her face with as much skill as a fledgling's chalk drawing. Surely Zaech had not made the mistake of inviting her to his chamber.

"P-P-Prince Zaech!" the maid screeched, assaulting his poor ears.

As if she could not get any more terrifying, she wiped her brow and smudged the paint around her eye. The resulting blur made the left side of her face seem like it had slipped down in a landslide of ugliness.

"How could a Tyvern be so hideous?" Zaech whispered to Skarra and latched onto his arm before he could leave.

The vile maid seemed to mistake his reaction for one of a better nature and smiled widely at him, revealing a gap between her teeth large enough for an extended family of harpies to nest in.

Zaech ducked for cover behind Skarra as more wretched noises erupted from her mouth that he could not bear listening to. "I have enough maids in my room as it is, so you can go back to testing paints on your face or whatever it is that you do," he said and tried to shoo her away.

Skarra bravely took a handkerchief from his sash belt and dabbed at her smudge, but there was no saving that face. "Your face had moved," he said.

For a moment it seemed that the maid's screeching had come to an end, but once she was done leering at Skarra, she expelled some more unintelligible noises. Zaech picked up a few mentions of Pagne and reluctantly listened for a few more details.

"Pagne is going to Ysenich with his mother until the end of the Season. Lord Kabech will probably cancel all of the parties because of this," she said at the expense of his eardrums.

The news was devastating. Zaech crumbled into a miserable heap in the middle of the passage. "Cancel... the Season..." he sobbed into his knees. Without the Season, there would be no Ladies. No potential Princess, thus, no reason to remain in this terrible world. "Everyone leave me be... I'm dying here."

Skarra lifted Zaech and deposited him in his nest of cushions. It was there that he would let death take him.

"You could organise the Season yourself, and take the Tyvern's attention from Pagne while I find a more suitable heir," Skarra said, foolishly believing hard work could inspire a better mood in anyone other than himself.

Then Mister Nibbs barged in and blurted "I can't find my son," as if either of them should care.

"A maid said he has run away to join his mother," Skarra responded flatly.

"The Lord will not be pleased if he has to arrange the Season himself."

The words hit Zaech like the song of a lark, descended from the skies to breathe new life into him. To think that Nibbs, with the voice of a dehydrated vulture, could have spoken such a beautiful phrase.

"The Season won't be cancelled?" Zaech sat up with a gasp. He would have his chance to find a Princess, or at least a few Ladies to get into a bit of mischief with.

"If this is true and Pagne is not harmed, I'll have you help me in the markets tomorrow to atone for the trouble you've put him through, again." Nibbs sneered, then marched out and left them in peace.

"Can you believe it, Skarra? A Season without the halfbreed. I should have sent him into the dungeons sooner." Zaech grinned and grabbed his golden lyre. "Go call the maids back, we need to celebrate!"