Never Heroes: Act I

Chapter 11

Never Heroes

Act I

XI: Parties

Emily heard Walter sigh. A glance over at him found his face twisted and unhappy. That wasn't all that surprising, considering he never liked social engagements to begin with. Of course he would find one in a strange land even more uncomfortable. He was the only one she knew still at the table and they remained close to each other. Doug was in one corner of the room, playing the mandolin along with several other entertainers, including a few scantily clad women that he would openly ogle. Chip was on the opposite end, talking rather animatedly to several people that appeared to be the military type.

When the Prince said they were having a feast, he wasn't joking. The large table they had been brought to was longer than any house she'd ever lived in, with each inch of it covered in a fresh dish of delightful food. Regardless of personal taste, there was something in that spread for everyone. Ministers, soldiers, and those with power in the church were present, seated next to scholars and philosophers. All of them were eager to meet the legendary heroes.

The Prince had everyone seated in a specific order, she noted quickly. Those that got along well were seated together, and those that did not were separated. His political IQ wasn't bad for someone that didn't appear old enough to drink. It was noisy, but none of the sound in that room was at all hostile. Several people had come up to talk to her and Walter, and they were as polite as possible, but it was clear they weren't interested in conversation.

Keaton had been eyeballing Emily all night and she was growing irritated. Walter could sense her anger and tried to silently calm her down by grabbing her knee. The action made her jump. Now with the atmosphere between them more awkward than Walter wanted, he excused himself. Not only did he leave the table, but he left the room as well.

Left alone, Emily focused on attacking the endless drinks presented to her. It had a bit of a bite like wine but had fruity aftertaste. Rather than remain sober and stress about their bizarre situation, she decided she was going to get as drunk as possible and find someone to mess around with. It'll be easy. Everyone here practically drools over us. Heroes? Hilarious, she thought as her eyes scanned the room.

Despite being all the way across the room, Keaton was still watching her. When she did her scan for a potential bedmate, contact was made. Uninterested in even attempting to communicate with him and deciding he wasn't all that attractive, her eyes went to the next person - the Prince.

There was no stopping the smirk that spread itself across her lips. He wasn't exactly the most gorgeous man she'd ever had her eyes on, but he was nowhere near the worse. Boyish charm was emitted every time he smiled and he carried himself like a man with confidence. Getting him away from Keaton and on his back would be a fun challenge, something that she had been yearning for since Sarah's funeral.

"Keaton will not let you approach His Majesty that easily," a voice interrupted her thoughts. Standing near Emily's shoulder was Tahere, still in the same robe she wore previously.

Emily was amused by Tahere's quick and accurate observation. "I must be pretty obvious," she said.

"Not at all. I have spent years observing you, so I have learned small details others will never notice," Tahere explained. For the first time, Emily decided to observe her closely. Although older than her, Tahere carried a youthful face with no wrinkles or lines. Her brown hair was done in a neat bun and she gave off an air of professionalism and maturity that almost felt threatening to the more free-spirited Emily.

"Hm, well, that's embarrassing. You've seen me f**k up a lot," Emily said.

"Why do you say that?" Tahere inquired.

"Because my entire life has been one big f**k up," Emily muttered. Tahere heard her perfectly but didn't comment on it. Emily downed the last of the glass in front of her and then grabbed another one. She stood and said, "Why don't you go find Walter and give him some stress relief. Aren't you one of his escort girls?"

It came across mean spirited, but Tahere took it in stride. "It would be inappropriate and unbefitting of my position to have relations with the Grand Master," she said evenly.

"What if he asks?" she questioned. Tahere said nothing and betrayed no emotions on her face. To this, Emily laughed. A small wave was given to Tahere as she stepped away, intent on catching the Prince before he disappeared out of sight.

Many tried to stop her and greet her, but she ignored them. It was strange how she could go anywhere in her hometown and be a nobody, yet here she was in a strange land being worshiped almost as a god. Others relished it, if Chip and Doug were any indication. Doug had already honed in on a potential partner for the night, a dancing woman that had become entranced by the music he played; Chip was still surrounding by military men, clearly happy someone finally believed his tales about Interfector.

After about the seventh time a man tried to stop her, she involuntarily sighed. Really, Walter had the right idea, leaving when he had the chance. Was it even worth it for her to go through all this, just for the chance to sleep with the Prince? Based on how everyone treated her, she probably could have anyone in that room... No, it's about the challenge.

Besides, before she knew it, she was near enough to the Prince she could call out at him any time she pleased. The only reason she didn't was Keaton. He stepped in front of her and stood as menacingly as possible. She eyed him, unimpressed.

"Guarding your master like a puppy?" she spat. He said nothing; all he could do was deepen his glare. "What's your deal, anyway? Don't want to share your boyfriend with the world? Maybe you can join us, if you ask nice enough."

There was no possible way she could have hit any harder than that. Immediately Keaton twitched, ready to lash out, but his desire to keep peace during the feast prevented him from doing so.

The Prince heard Emily's voice. He popped his head over Keaton's shoulder and greeted her with a smile. "Oh! Hello! Sorry to have left you - "

"There is no need for you to apologize to her, Saeed," Keaton whispered.

"Why are you so afraid of her, Keaton?" he asked, clearly annoyed with how he was being protected. The Prince was a tick shorter than Keaton, so his mouth wasn't visible from behind his shoulder, yet Emily could tell by the furrowed brows that he was frowning.

The question shocked Keaton and he didn't answer. Emily took the opening and said, "If it's alright, I'd like to speak to the Prince alone."

There was no need to see any more than his eyes, because they moved only the way a smiling face would permit. There was a fierce look in his eyes that he sent her way before they shot over to Keaton, awaiting a reaction. Keaton had visibly tensed. Instead of denying her request, he glanced over his shoulder and whispered, "She's pale. She can't be trusted."

"I'm not worried about that. Other heroes are pale, and we still celebrate them. I owe them my life, my kingdom, perhaps my very soul. We should grant her request, don't you think?" the Prince said.

In defeat, Keaton lowered his posture. Emily winked at him just as the Prince went to lead her away, and laughed openly when Keaton's entire face twisted in anger. Getting the Prince away from his overprotective body guard wasn't anywhere near as difficult as she feared it would be. If anything, it seemed as though the Prince was playing along.

Noise from the large gathering faded into the distance as he snuck her out a side door and carefully closed it behind him. In front, she had time to eye her surroundings; it was an open space that led to several hallways and one other door; a guard at each hallway entrance was position, yet all did the tired routine of taking a knee when she appeared.

The action took her off guard but didn't affect the Prince in anyway. He marched past her, hands folded neatly behind his back as he confidently strode by. After finding himself a safe distance away, he turned to face her and asked, "So, after you bed me, then what?"

The question took her off guard and she froze for a second. It took a moment for her to piece together her mask again. Building confidence, she inhaled deeply and countered, "What makes you think that's my plan?'

A small laugh escaped his lips. "I heard you tell Keaton he could join us. You're a woman. That leaves only one option."

"Oh? What if I want to challenge you to a duel?" she asked, daring to smirk at him.

"You'd lose."

"Is that so?"

Again, he laughed. This time, she laughed as well. Really, there was no fear in her body. Nothing about him gave her the impression of physical greatness or battle experience. Her guard was down. It was a mistake; he closed the gap between them and smacked his elbow against her chest hard enough it knocked the air right out of her lungs.

As she buckled, he caught her around the waist and smirked, "Yes, you would lose."

"Jesus, I want to punch you right now," she managed to say as air returned to her.

"I knew I would only need to harm your pride a little to get you to end this," he said.

"Just because you said that, I'm definitely not giving you back to Keaton tonight."

When he opened his mouth to protest, he was met with a lustful kiss that had him step backward. She felt him retreat and she responded by pushing him until his back found a wall. The sound of a guard's armor moving slightly somehow broke through all the noise she was making. Knowing that his trusted servants were watching only made her more excited. Her entire body was working toward one goal; her lips and tongue attacked his mouth, cheek, and neck; her hands worked their way into his robe and felt the warmth of his skin; her hips were grinding against his has hard as her body would allow.

Based on the groans he tried to keep at bay, her ministrations were working expertly. Huskily, he breathed into her ear, "Not here."

"Yes, here," she responded, surprised at the sound of her own voice. Although it shook, it sounded strangely demanding. Already aware she was past the point of no return, she brought her lips to his ear and said, "I'll be gentle." Brazenly, she nibbled on his ear.

"I'd prefer if you didn't."

Somehow, he'd gained control of himself; his voice was too even for a man that was practically being attacked in the hallway. It was loud, too, enough so that anyone within earshot could have made each word out perfectly. The sound caused her to back away, unsure how to respond to the stern command.

It have him an opening. Within a blink he had her in a wrist lock and spun her around. Pressed against the wall with her wrist already daring to snap, she couldn't help but curse rather loud when she realized there was no way for her to move. "What the f**k?!" she shouted.

"Don't start anything," he said. The pain was enough for her not to bother with a struggle. Her mind started to process any opportunities she had to escape. All of her plans met with a dead end. Less irritated that she was strong-armed and more upset that she couldn't see what he was doing, she decided it was better to listen.

"If you didn't want to screw, you could just say so," she snarled.

"I am under the assumption that's a vulgar term in your Kingdom for what you just attempted and I have every intention of fulfilling that desire. Keep squirming. It feels good, you know," he taunted. Instinctively she tried to move her head away, as his hot breath tickled her ear. Of course, she found that the wall her cheek was flush against made that impossible He continued, "I know better than to open my chamber doors to a woman that might have devious motivates. So tell me what it is you want."

"Literally just your d**k right now."

"I am unfamiliar with that term. Can you speak properly and not rely on such vulgar words?"

It wasn't the position she had expected herself to be in when she left the room with him, and his lack of understanding was making her frustrated. Again the sound of armor moving reached her. Being pinned was humiliating, yet having him question her was sending her over the edge. She was about to risk snapping her wrist if it meant decking him in the face.

"Um, excuse me?" a voice echoed. It was Walter. She could feel the Prince shift to get a look at him. "I don't mean to interrupt, but can I speak with Emily?"

There was no hesitation after Walter asked. She was released. Tenderly, she rubbed the sore wrist as she turned to face the Prince and Walter. It was clear Walter was not amused by the situation; his glare spoke volumes about his stance on what he witnessed. The Prince, however, appeared just as joyful as before, their small altercation now a thing of the past.

He made a dramatic motion for Emily to join Walter. With his voice loud enough that Walter undoubtedly heard it, he told her, "I'll send someone for you later. If you're brave enough." Then he stepped away and back through the doors that lead to the feast.

For a moment Walter and Emily just stood there. It wasn't until the last echo of the doors closing hit them did anyone speak. It was Emily, who said, "Thanks for that save back there. I almost - " Roughly, he snatched her arm and started to drag her away. As they passed the guards and disappeared, her voice screamed, "What the f**k?!"

"What the hell were you doing?" he demanded. The curse sounded so odd from him that it caused her to wince. "We don't have a clue where we are or what could happen if you sleep with the wrong people."

"What? Walter, he was attacking me."

"Don't spin this! I heard you moaning two rooms down. And don't pull the 'don't lecture me now, Walter' card, because until we learn more about this place we can't take any risks."

She twisted her face. "Alright, so I was getting off, big deal? Look, don't you think we're better off banging the guy in charge and getting in his favor?"

"He's not in charge, Em, he said that when we first arrived. The Church is. Didn't you pay attention? Or were you too busy figuring out how to screw the guy to listen?"

"That's it. I'm done. If you're going to attack me nonstop for acting like a normal person and wanting companionship then f**k you."

"f**k me? f**k me because I'm looking out for you? For all of us? I'm the only one of us that's not looking to pick up a fling or cool kid points with these strangers. Companionship? With strangers? What about us, Em? What about this group?"

"f**k them, too! The f**k, Walter, you act like we're the same close group of i***t kids that we were ten years ago but we're not! s**t, we're hardly friends at all anymore! If we were, if we had this 'companionship' in our little shitty group, do you think Sarah would be dead right now? f**k no she wouldn't, Walt. So don't you dare f*****g lecture me."

It took him a few beats before he wanted to speak again. The rant Emily spewed out had her so worked up her breathing pattern had changed and she shook with each passing second. Even after she appeared calm, he wasn't sure if he wanted to dare break the silence that had formed. Although it was an awkward calm, it was better than having her swear at him again.

Tahere approached him from behind. Her opening statement wasn't promising, "I apologize, Grand Master." She moved swift. Before Walter heard the end of her sentence and long before he had the chance to turn around, he was struck in the back of the head and rendered unconscious.

Emily felt fear rip up her body at the sight of Walter's eyes rolling back into his head and slumping like a rag doll to the ground. There was no chance for her to move. Tahere landed a blow against Emily's chest hard enough she again had the air knocked out of her lungs. As she hunched over, Tahere cracked her right where her neck and head connected. Darkness followed.