This is starting to feel like a "real novel" and I'm having fun building the world. I'm beginning to realize that I'll need to heavily rewrite the first few chapters to fit into what it's become. I hope you enjoy what it's turning into.
As always, comments are welcome.
Now, on to the story.
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THEN
EVA
Life quickly became routine for Eva at the convent. Madam Chanel met with her periodically for basic lessons on pleasure while Eva took class after class on everything from history to court etiquette. Most of it she knew, but some of the history was interesting enough, from the early days of the Fealty Wars to the formation of the Davaraugh, the ruling council of the Union. They didn't discuss the present war even though she was interested in it. Even when asked, the instructors would defer, saying that that part of history was still being written.
She thought about friends from school that had been shipped off to the war that the Union had been fighting for what seemed like her entire life and had never come home, especially Michael. She would push thoughts of him out of her head when someone would mention the war and focus on the lesson at hand. She vowed she was going to be a good girl despite her curiosity. When talk of the war came up in the lounge, she would find somewhere else to be. She noticed that she wasn't the only one and was grateful for that.
One cold and damp late autumn night a group of girls gathered in the lounge discussing politics and the war in particular. Without much fanfare she hesitated as she walked by them before continuing towards her room, though she couldn't help glancing back at them. All four glared at her. One, a very tall girl with dark brown hair and eyes, was all daggers.
"Too good for us, new girl?
Eva stopped, turning to face the girl, her own eyes all fire. She tried to remember any of the girls' names but could not and that infuriated her even more as they sneered at her. The brown haired girl watched her, sitting back and crossing her arms under her ample chest and quirked her mouth. Eva was about to say something she she felt an arm hook her own, pulling her away.
"Come on, Eva," Jillian said with a smile. "I need some help with that reading we had in Arts and Literature today. You know how pre-Fealty poetry confuses me."
Eva sputtered a response and let the other girl pull her along. She thought she heard the ringleader mutter something about a princess and a bumpkin.
"You don't wanna start with those witches," Jillian said. ""Specially not Amelia."
"Which one was she?"
"The tall one," Jillian said, her rustic accent poking through the faster she spoke. "She got to be seven feet tall in heels. Thought I heard one of the Madam's say she's got some of the Mountain Folk blood in her."
"Mountain folk?" Eva said.
"Y'know, ogres," Jillian said, making a face as she said it. "I think your folk call 'em trolls."
"You should watch how you say things," Eva said.
"I am perfectly capable of speaking properly when necessary," Jillian said, her accent completely gone. Eva couldn't stop the giggle. Within a moment, Jillian's accent was back, "Can't help it, they just get me so hot in the seat, thinkin' they hot stuff 'cause they from the Capital."
"They don't seem very nice," Eva said, looking back down the hall. "They shouldn't be talking about the war. We were told it was not proper conversation."
Jillian rolled her eyes but said nothing.
"Honey, the war's touched everybody," Jillian finally said as they turned a corner towards their rooms. She sounded soft and vulnerable as she spoke. "Honestly though, I can't blame them for talkin' about it sometime. If we can't talk about it freely here, then are we really free at all."
"We serve the whim of our lords," Eva said. A long moment of silence passed between them as Eva's mind wandered. She was surprised to notice the other girl staring at her.
"What was his name?" Jillian asked.
"Michael," Eva said. It felt good to say his name out loud Jillian smiled broadly and nodded but neither girl said anything.
"First love or first fuck?"
"Jillian!"
"It's obviously one or the other...or was it both?"
"We are told to let go of our pasts," Eva recited. "We serve the whim of our lords."
"You can just shut it off like that?" Jillian asked. "I wish I could but if you saw the way Wes fucked me...oooh, boy, that'd make even the ogress back their blush." Suddenly, she frowned. "He died. Never even told his parents nothin', just that he died serving the Union."
"First love or first fuck?" Eva asked.
"It doesn't matter," Jillian said, smiling. "We have been told to let go of our pasts."
They both laughed and walked arm in arm. Jillian pulled her close before looking up and down the hall. When she seemed satisfied she whispered to Eva, "I've got a bottle of sherry back in my room. Let's warm our bellies and think fond thoughts of Michael and Wes."
Eva nodded. The next morning was a day with Madam Chanel and Thad, so Eva didn't think it would be frowned upon, so she let Jillian lead her down the hall to her room.
Jillian's room was no different in size and shape than Eva's room, but where Eva kept her room sparse with few mementos of home, Jillian's was completely decorated with the rustic flare of her home province. Pictures of horses and hills covered the walls, sharing space with several broad brimmed hats. A saddle etched with a symbol that Eva didn't recognize took up one corner of the room and in another leaned an acoustic guitar. Eva smiled.
"Do you play?"
"Yes, very well as a matter of fact," Jillian said. "Madam Victoria Rae feels that it will work in my favor come selection day."
"Do you think they'll send you back to one of your provincial lords?"
"Naw," she said. "Lord Beelin don't believe much in the Proxy tradition. Think he has two or three for his boys or when other lords come to visit. I'm actually hoping for the Pokes or out on the Steppes."
"You can ride too?"
"You can ask anyone Madam Victoria Rae throws at me."
