Ranger Rising

Part 1: An Inner Circle Party

"Kindly remove your hand or I will rip your arm off and beat you with it." I smiled as I said the words; however, I meant every single one of them. Clive Terrin, the boy who held my wrist in a tight grip, only snorted.

"Lena, you're going to cause a scene... again," Clive said. In his mightier-than-thou mind, he probably thought he was being helpful. He was wrong of course. And for more than one reason.

The sounds of laughter, music, and general revelry flowed out of the large brick building we stood on the front step of. The light poured out of the door and illuminated the night darkened street. One girl in fancy blue party dress lingered close to the open door, head tilted as she listened closely to what we were saying. Brenna Read.

"People are already staring," I told him, raising my free hand to direct Clive's attention to the Brenna's now rather intent gaze. She had always been incredibly nosy. One day she'd end up sticking her nose in a place where it wasn't appreciated and end up losing it. That would definitely damper her flirting with every eligible inner circle boy in Woodhearst. People without noses weren't typically considered pretty no matter how much money their papas made in a year.

Clive spun back to see her. He grit his teeth, dropped my wrist, and pulled the door shut. The noise from inside immediately dampened. He pressed his hand to his forehead. "Let me rephrase that. You don't want to cause an even bigger scene than usual."

"Father and I were invited Clive! By your father... the Mayor!" I snapped, throwing my hands in the air.

Clive snatched them out of the air. "You're a farmer's daughter. This is an inner circle party. Look at yourself. You wouldn't fit in here. You'd have no fun here."

I stared down at my dress and forced myself to keep from shifting from foot to foot. So what if my dress wasn't cut from the same satin and silk as the girls like Brenna? Or made by fancy tailors? I'd made my own dress just as expertly, using greens and browns to compliment my tanned skin and brown eyes. Just as any tailor would have. I'd also spent more time than I cared to admit to tame my hair out of it's usual braid. I didn't have rouge or other cosmetics but I'd done an impressive job scrubbing the ever present layer of dirt from my face and from under my finger nails.

I looked just as nice and well put together as any of the other girls here and after spending so much time to get ready, I wanted to go! Regardless of whether or not Clive or any of his stupid, fancy inner city friends thought I belonged there.

"Father is in good standing. So much so that Mayor Terrin asked us to join the celebration tonight."

Clive winced as my voice rose past the respectable level for a girl, common or otherwise. I jerked my hands out of his grip and tried to dart around him. He kept himself between me and the door with impeccable dexterity. "Father's invitation was a courtesy to Merrik as gratitude for supplying the hog of the festivities. Notice that he didn't actually come."

"Of course he didn't. He's too busy planning the planting for the next three seasons!"

Clive finally lost his temper and snapped. "That's enough Lena! Neither farmers nor their daughters attend inner circle parties and mix company with their betters. It's just not done. Go home!"

He pushed my off the front step and on to the street. So much for the "gentlemanly manner" he prided himself with carrying. The door opened and slammed shut a moment later as Clive disappeared into the mayoral manse. I stood in the darkness by myself with my jaw effectively on the ground.

Without thinking, I darted to the window. Clive apparently anticipated that because there was only a brief glimpse of the dancing people in their striking clothes visible before he pulled the curtains shut. I stumbled backwards then regained myself.