GET YOUR chores done, get your chores done, get your chores done. I repeated in my head. I had breezed through the morning’s chores, practically blotting out the argument I had had with what’s-his-face. I got to my last chore for a few hours - cataloging the items in the storage room - just in time. It was a rather long and monotone work. I held a sheet of parchment, and walked around, writing down every item, and how many there were. It was mostly just extra desks and chairs and stuff, but occasionally I would come across something interesting. I found an old photograph book, filled with pictures of the school. Most of them were quite boring; pictures of the wall or something, but looking through it, one caught my eye. It was a picture of a person - black hair and ice-blue eyes rather like my own. I looked around, even though I knew nobody was there and slipped it into my pocket for further investigation. I slumped onto the small chair in the corner of my chambers after finishing all my chores and took out the picture. Ugh, why is this person so familiar? I thought, throwing the picture onto my cot. “I guess he doesn’t matter,” I assured myself. “He might just be some servant from the palace.” It still nagged my thoughts that I couldn’t put my finger on who it was. I decided to go to the kitchen to clear my thoughts. I walked down the dark, narrow, dusty stairs, and onto the third level. The stairs leading to the second story were much wider and weren’t as dusty, but they were very cold. The case leading from the second floor to the first one (where the kitchen was) was mainly flat, going around the edge until they got to the other wall, where the stairs were. I entered the kitchen through the first-floor eating chambers. “Why aren’t yeh out with the rest of them young people?” Lannie said behind me. I jumped. “You frightened me,” She laughed. “I can see that, lad.” “I have chores to do,” I replied frankly. “Vile!” She spat, “Making a youn’ poppe’ li’e you stay inside on a day li’e today,'' I cringed at “poppet.” “Wha’s wrong?” She must have seen the disgust in my eyes. “Nothing,” “Are yeh sure?” I nodded slowly. “Alrigh’, whatever yeh say,” She paused to look up. “Loo’s li’e summun’s ‘ere to say hello,” “Aye,” a deep voice said behind me. I closed my eyes and rolled them. “Hello, Braden,” “Yeh’s soundin’ sad,” “You noticed?” Braden laughed. “Aye,” “Well, Hana’s beau,” I spat the word out. “Came, and now she’s all over him, leaving me nowhere, but what she doesn’t know is that he’s just a big jerk who’s trying to get something from her.” “Is yeh talking about the Prince Vigilius Ouellette XVI?” I started to shake my head, then remembered that no one else knew his true identity, and nodded. “But he isn’t actually the prince,” “How is yeh knowin’ that?” “I was the real prince’s teaboy.” “What’s ‘is real name?” “Peter, but I don’t know his surname,” “Ach,” Braden grumbled. “What?” “No ‘un messes with my friends and their love life.” I was confused. “Oh, you think I’m in love with Hana?” Braden nodded. “Aye,” “Fine, I’ll admit it, I am.” My thoughts turned to her hazel eyes. I wished I could see them glance in a different direction than Peter. I remembered what she said when I asked her out again. “No, I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” She had said. And then she went on to court Peter. Maybe she just isn’t ready to court me yet. Maybe I need to change more. Maybe… “Did yeh hear what I said?” Braden’s words brought me back to Kemar. “What?” “Daydreaming, were yeh?” “Yes,” “About Hana?” I felt flames shoot up my neck into my cheeks, and an embarrassed smile spread across my face. “That isn’t nothin’ teh be ashamed about, lad.” “Easy for you to say,” I mumbled, flickering back to my favorite eyes. “So what are yeh goin’ teh do about Pe’er?” I thought for a second. “Nothing,” “Blast! Lad, yoo can’t just stay like yeh are, yeh love her for Pete’s sake!” “She loves Peter!” “Ach. No, she don’.” “Yes she does, stop telling me she loves me! I’ve seen the way she looks at Peter and the way he looks at her!” He shook his head. “Then you don’ deserve her.”
:0 It fits again... ---------------------------------------------------------------------- GUYS! WE'RE PUSHING OUR 20'S! THIS IS EXCITING! I'm almost at 80 pages... (Uh... wait, just changed the font size to what it's supposed to be. It's uh... 89 pages now.... uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmm) Aheheh... changed it again. It's at 79 This is interesting. I've never made it past chapter 5 of a book in my life. Anything I've tried to write has been too cheesy, and I don't normally stick with it. Royal is different... alfdlafl;dfjk;ldskjf;asjf;kdjf;adkf;lkjdf;j Braden. He's such an amazing character... okay, you know what? Tell me your favorite characters. I would like to know. Normally, about now I'd give you an overview of how I wrote this chapter, but I'm not in the mood to write that right now. Okay, scratch that. I'm telling you. This chapter was pretty hard to write, I've had to try to find the difference between someone from Albannak's accent compared to someone from (insert whatever country Lannie is from here)'s. And it's been hard. Very. Hard. So... it says "Most of them were quite boring; pictures of the wall or something, but looking through it, one caught my eye. It was a picture of a person - black hair and ice-blue eyes rather like my own." There's a major plot twist coming up with this sentence. Any more theories? -Oreoooooooooooooo
