[center][b]Vesta[/b][/center]

Watching Ennis make a fool of himself filled Vesta with succulent schadenfreude that mixed nicely with the warmth that the alcohol had brought to her body. The muscles in her face ached as they strained to create a rare smile as Shadar wiped the sycophant’s smirk off of his smug face. She watched with perverse delight as Ennis’s puffy shoulder frill visibly dropped a few inches as he sunk behind Cyril, his hat covering his face as he gritted his face. She covered her own mouth with a gloved hand, biting down on her finger to prevent herself from laughing out loud. She almost bit her own finger off as Lora began to blabber like an excited belle at a ball. Vesta had long tired of those types in her youth. The thought that it filled her with pleasant nostalgia meant one thing: the alcohol in this useless town was stronger than she thought it was. [i]Who cares,[/i] thought Vesta, as she watched Lora’s and wondered if she was housebroken. 

“This is why you should learn to never apologize,” said Vesta. “Better yet, don’t say anything in the first place.”

“I do not like that man,” said Ennis, glancing towards Shadar to make sure he was out of earshot as Cyril and the others began to follow after Lora.

“He’s much better than the other one,” she said, popping a chunk of bread that she had snagged from the tavern into her mouth.

“Comparing my family to those Jasi bastards,” he continued, smoothing his hair and sliding his hat on his head. “Cade’s do not use poison like those cowards from the South; we look our enemy square in the eye as we—the other one?”

“Shadar called him his brother. He’s been hiding for some time. First I thought it was just an illusion; but he’s been maintaining it for too long. Probably just too embarrassed to come out,” she said, carefully enunciating her words to avoid slurring. “You remind me of him”

“Don’t insult me.”

“I wasn’t,” she said. If anything, she’d been insulting Drosil. She tore off another chunk of bread and held it out to Ennis. “Want some?”

“No, I do not want anything this forsaken town has—are you drunk?” he said in a hushed tone, grabbing Vesta’s wrist.

“Not drunk,” she said. Buzzed. Tipsy. Feeling good. But not [i]drunk[/i] drunk. Not in front of the children.

Ennis turned to follow behind the group; Vesta fell in next to him, her scabbard clicking against the ground. She didn’t like how Ennis could tell when she had been drinking; none of the others seemed to have picked up her habit yet despite their voyage together to and from the castle. The boy was much more perceptive than he appeared to be; it put her on edge. While she had been slamming whiskeys in the tavern and between hearing the nth version of alleged angels saving the village she had been considering the situation she currently found herself in. She decided that it was not as bad as she had originally thought. Yes, she had to be his little guard dog and stick by his side, but that made it easier for her to keep an eye on him. The others might look at him with disdain and distrust as she thought they rightfully should, but she feared they did not do so for the right reasons. He was a H’kelan, he was a Cade, and he was dangerous. Worse still, he was cursed.

“I’d like to meet his brother,” said Ennis.

“Not a good idea, Cade. He’s very liberal with his use of magic,” she said.

“I wasn’t going to meet him alone,” he said, clarifying. “You’d be with me, of course.”

“I dislike this idea even more then,” said Vesta, sighing. Her first impression of Drosil had left quite a sour taste in her mouth, and anymore thoughts of him would spoil her buzz. She changed the subject. “What do you think of the girl?”

[center][b]Ennis[/b][/center]

“Lora?” said Ennis. She could see him mull over his words. “She seems to be full of life.”

“She’s seems tiresome,” said Vesta.

“That’s only because you do not like how smitten she is with the Prince.” 

“I do not care about someone’s childish crush,” she said, matter-of-factly. 

“You notice how she suggested that they head to the inn first?” said Ennis, nudging Vesta with his elbow. He began to chuckle and shake his head. “Perhaps you should do your Prince a favor and take the rest of his tagalongs and go…” 

His voice trailed off as Vesta’s glare pierced through him. He now had proof that Shadar had been wrong on two accounts: he had a backbone, and it had not been broken by social whiplash. He knew Shadar was wrong for a fact because he felt his spine suddenly make a split towards his hometown of the Kirun where it snuggled up against his Mom and sucked its thumb while it cried itself to sleep. He animatedly waved his hands in front of his chest. 

“Nevermind, nevermind. Oh, my, I think I heard Cyril calling for me,” he said as he lightly jogged ahead of Vesta.

Rounding the corner, he almost became part of the Cyril-Wanderer pile up, skidding to a halt and catching his balance just in time. He watched with bemusement as the Prince struggled to free himself from the feminine man, stepping back to both clear the way and to signal that he had little intention to offer any assistance. His name had already been besmirched today; no point in dirtying his clothes too. Ennis folded his arms over his chest as he studied the man and the woman. His eyes focused on the woman, a girl really, and a tiny one at that. She had an unpleasant look on her face and long black pigtails. His eyes lit up with recognition almost instantly as he glanced at Lora and smiled apologetically. He could guess who the other man was, then.

"He apologizes profusely but also rejects all charges this may lead to!"

Vesta’s advice about apologizing rang out in his head. Ennis grinned. “I would strongly advise against all apologies. Some simpler folk,” he said, using a good amount of willpower to not cast Shadar a disparaging look,  “cannot comprehend common decency.”

“Seriously, if you run ahead like that I—” Vesta wheeled around the corner and gave Alasa a stern look, her voice lowering to a growl. “Why is a Sentinel choking some girl?” 

“Lora, I would feel dreadful if I took your moment. Would you please explain to Vesta and the others who these two,” he faked a cough into his fist. He’d almost said ladies thanks to Vesta’s confusion. “Ahem, sorry, who these two fine people are?”