NaNoWriMo Update

NaNoWriMo is suffering against awesome things like my brother's wedding and gadding about the country.
I'm currently at 18,426. And I've been doing crazy stuff like writing 6,000 in one sitting and dorky things like that. If it weren't for word wars, I might just be dead. I still haven't given up yet. Foolish...and hopeful.

That puts me at 40,814 total for this version of my novel.
When the document opens I don't stare sickly at it for a half hour before I start typing something like, "And then a volcano exploded, burying them all in its ash" or "Ramirez tactical genius was no match for the alien invasion. The world would not remember that night"...like previous versions. I think we're getting somewhere.

Ramirez is getting on my nerves and Lilly is so confused she confuses me...and I spent one cold night of guilt imagining Judvor's blood on the snow...but other than that, things are going all right.

According to NaNoWriMo.org's terrifying statistics I need to write 3,158 each day. Think I can make it?

Perhaps rambling thoughts on PA, poetry, and my bro's wedding to come.... Most likely silence while I write in other places.

The Joys of Writing...

20,000 words into the 13th draft of my story and all my characters are having identity crisis! Good times... :-P

Novel Update...

I mentioned that I had 60,000 words in this one millionth draft of Where Loyalties Lie... While I can't believe it but I'm considering changing the POV again. It's been mulling about for along time.

Remember the NaNoWrMo story? While I did finish that and got some very encouraging and helpful feedback on it. (I can talk about it now because it was a present for my mother and now she finally has it. :-)

I wrote it in first person just how it came out and it was extremely liberating and fun. (Don't worry, I went back and edited before I handed out any copies. ;-)

I feel like when I write in first person POV it is so much easier and it actually has some life. Nearly all the books I really adore are in first person. But my story has some essential plot elements that will be really tricky written this way.

I've read books that switch from one first person POV to another, but I've never liked it. One exception is Frankenstein and which is in letters or stories that the main character hears or reads. Gail Carson Levine's Ever was one example of this that failed for me (although I love her other books).

I have seen some authors pull off writing in first person for one character and third for another. Robert Newton Peck's Bro is like this and it's very powerful.

I don't know...

One huge advantage in first person POV is that your POV character can be relatively unlikeable but it's still easy to be sympathetic with. Reading back through what I've written I feel like Lilly is a very unlikable character, but that she just might pull it off in first person. I've never thought of her as unlikable, but that's certainly the way it comes across.

Of course there are a lot of edits that need to be done and the manuscript might look a little nicer with them, but right now... I'm seriously thinking about changing it.

I can't believe it... Ugh. I've already written most of it in about everybody's perspective under the sun, including multiple first persons.

I think I might be more cut out for just trying to look through one insignificant person's eyes than in trying to master the epic.

We shall see...

Thanks for reading,
Miss Pickwickian

Busy Writing

Recently I've been noticing some alarming patterns in my writing.

1) In my fiction, I can't seem to start a sentence with anything except the subject.

2) I have been throwing away and starting over instead of rewriting and editing (and I think this has been going on for years). And rewriting is the worst. :-)

3) I can't seem to write anything with out killing somebody. (In the story...you understand.)

4) I'm in the middle of too many projects.

I was able to get a lot of writing done over the last week.

The last Saturday of November I think I broke my record with 5,300 words in one project in one day.

I wrote over 15,00 words over the week and the end of Where Loyalties Lie is actually in site! That is exciting for me (like...really, really, really exciting!). I know it's going to need some extremely painful and deep rewriting, but at least something is getting down!

I need to focus on non-fiction writing projects for awhile, so I'm hoping I can finish the rough draft (which is still going to take some time and dedication) and then work through the non-fiction I need to do.

We'll see.

I've been working on several projects side by side, but I just need to storm some and finish them! (At least rough drafts...please!)

I've been doing a lot of reading...so you should be seeing some book reviews this week. (Not sure how many people will get excited about that, but there it is....)

I am currently down at my sister's getting refreshed by the wild, creative, and tireless imagination of an adorable little girl and the snuggles and sweetness of her little sister. Life is good...and I am exhausted.

Thanks for reading,
Miss Pickwickian

Growing Pains?

I've been going through piles and piles of notes on my story (Where Loyalties Lie).

It began in February 2005 with a scene with Rackbrier. Since then it has seriously been all over the place. Literally the only names and characters that have staid the same are Emerald and Kadit. Both of these characters are now minor.

The Setting

I won't try to describe many of the interesting pictures of despair I've described over the years...We just won't go there. The main theme is its raining.

I have a hundred maps. Yesterday I sat down and made one that went along with the current story and plot.

As far as time period. Yikes! When I started that first scene with Rackbrier the feel was sort of Revolutionary War/1812 sorta thing...except wait! At the end of the third scene he puts on heavy armor and a claymore!
It fairly quickly changed to medieval. Then back to 1812. Then back to medieval. Then to the 1950s!
Today it's back to Revolutionary War/1812 sorta thing.
Still only single fire guns and knives and swords/sabers are still more applicable.

Still doing research on clothing and weaponry for this era.

POV

I'm now counting on the before unheard of, Ramirez Delamare (once Ramriez Kenzel) and Lilly Ephramean (once Lilly Ceeza) as my POV characters.

My first writings were totally omniscient. Then I tried third person but did a lot of head jumping. Since nearly all my favorite books are in first person, I tried that. It didn't work with some of the plot elements. So, yeah, that's how we ended up with Ramirez and Lilly thoughts.

The Characters

Rackbrier of course is still here...
He began as Rakber Hoff, and a very fact-loving fellow indeed. :-)
He was basically a concoction of Inspector Javert, George Banks, and Sherlock Holmes with a dash of my favorite -- German World War II ace. ;-)
As you can imagine the resulting critter was a little odd with a few inconsistence. (But of course, very endearing. Especially the Inspector Javert part.)

Rakber Hoff is now Benryden Rackbrier and he's a little more defined...I hope. He lost his seat as the main character. Poor fellow.

Emerald's name changed about a million times, but she's back to Emerald again. Only now she's Emerald Fleischman instead of Emerald Dorsdoffin.

Other key characters are:

Ramirez Delamare (formally Ramirez Kenzel)

Lilly Ephramean (formally many things, including...Lilly/Margaret Ceeza/Lewq)

Dietrich DeElliot (formally Dietrich Craymore)

Judvor Lewq

Count Craignil Fleischman (formally Lord Dorsdoffin)

Duke Eldine

Captain Adion Delamare (formally Edion Kenzel)

Baron Grado Bouvier (formally Lord Bithron)

Juela Mentiroso, Kadit, Benaiah, Sir Wilken Lewq also all play backstage roles.

I've been currently trying to create some deeper character sketches. Some of these guys have so many in so many different places, and I just need one more definitive one I can refer too.

I've been reading Brandilyn Collins book Getting Into Character: Seven Secrets a Novelist Can Learn from Actors. It's great and its giving me some new ideas.

I've felt like I know my characters relatively well. I have mental conversations with them (all except Rackbrier. He's not sociable. And Ramirez, he thinks more then talks. Plus my modern garb scares his sense of fashion and propriety.)
I try to think like them or act like them on occasion.

But I need to do more.

Jeff Gerke's book The Art and Craft of Christian Fiction challenged me. What do my characters want? This should be part of the drive in the story. And it is. But lets get down to the gritty. Seriously, what do they want? How does this effect their actions?

I think I'm getting to the root of this in most of my characters...except Ramirez and Lilly. That's only my two POV characters, no big deal. Wrong! Big deal! This is not okay. I really need to hash this out.

The Plot

So I have a lot of writer's journals.
Some of them are full. Some of them are organized. Most of them are total chaos, with few and far between helpful info.
They are crammed with story ideas. Some stories I got pretty far into plotting and some are more then half written. Some of them are just a sentence of an idea.
But...basically all of them have been incorporated or pirated for my current story in someway.

If you've been reading, you know about Antony. Yeah, sore spot with sister. He was originally important to the plot, but when the focus changed from Rackbrier to other characters and when my sister would not let me bump him off he got archived for a later date.

In came Judvor. He is actually a 2010 addition, so a real newbie. He was originally brought in to fulfill some minor accomplishment that Antony had served. He quickly took charge of the situation and made his place in the world. He's now a very important fellow.

After reading through my old journals I discovered his former hideout. He was basically my character Tilman with a dash of Elliot Spencer.
Tilman was a hardworking farmer dude in a previous story that made it to about page 50 with a detailed plot outline before it got set on the back burner.
Judvor was even bringing in the same key plot elements that Tilman had to his story!
Little sneak.

So yes, Judvor/Tilman changed the plot on me. He didn't change the huge element, but he enriched the story.

From 2005 there remains one stable element...The bad guys and the good guys fight.

In Review

I enjoyed looking over the old stuff way more then I thought I would. It was interesting to see where my story and me have been. I was impressed and sometimes disturbed at my creativity levels. Am I getting old? Is my imagination getting smothered?
Hopefully I'm just becoming a little more realistic. :-)

Although my writing started much earlier, I started serious writing journals in 2004.
Over the years my style has fluctuated and changed. I believe I'm back more towards 2004 then I am towards 2008. And I think that's a good thing. I hope I've made some big strides in maturing and will continue to do so, but I think I'm finally comfortable with my 'voice'.

I hope this has been growing pains, not waisted time or an outlet for insanity. ;-)

Now I really need to get something done!

I have so much to learn and so much to write!

Thanks for reading,
Miss Pickwickian

Plotting

So...I've been plotting recently.
My story has been in my brain long enough that it has got itself all discombobulated. I have too much stuff happening that isn't directly connected at the beginning. I have details I keep forgetting need to be revealed early on so I don't end up with surprises or info dumps.

Since I've finally decided on the time period and my POV characters, its time to get to business. I need to see how I switch back and forth from Lilly and Ramirez and how things work together.

I've been working on 3x5 cards so I can move scenes around and see how they fit. Its been easy to add info and to revise. When I'm finished with a scene the card can go in the done stack. Yes! I've accomplished something, even if it has to be revised a gazillion times.

After and extended session of plot explanation, my lovely sister drew her interpretation in a simple pie-graph. Hopefully this is not the feelings you will come away with when the book is a finished product. ;-)

This is my "story board" I've now had for some time. It's a timeline as well as concise versions of my character sketches. Originally I was going to put post-it-notes down the time line so I could moves stuff around and such, but I decided the 3x5 cards were working better for me. My boards have also proved rather hard to store, but they've been helpful.

This is Emerald.

This is Antony.
He's no longer a character in my story, but I like having him on my story board because he looks cool. ;-)
He wasn't serving my purposes. The only way he really fit into the story is if he died in this cool way... Well, my sister didn't like that. It happens that she'd grown pretty attached to Antony. Death threats ensued.
So I took him out and added another character in who behaves much better.
Antony will have to have a star role in a future story.

Those pics are Ramirez and Edion/Adion.

"The Inevitable"
This is the end of my timeline.

This is Rackbrier.
The picture is actually of a German World War II ace I've had a crush on since I was nine. The Blonde Night of Germany changed my life forever. ;-) This picture is of one of Erich Hartmann's buddies at his wedding.

Yup.
This is my story board.

Thanks for reading,
Miss Pickwickian

A Taste of "Where Loyalties Lie" - Me

There is a lot in the works, but one of my biggest projects is my wanna-be novel, Where Loyalties Lie. I've been working on it for a long time (not kidding...it's been over five years).

I'm not planning on posting a lot of it up here, but I want to post the prologue and first two chapters to, hopefully, whet your appetite.
I think it will help motivate me.
I've also been trying to get five manageable pages together for OCW Conference critic class.

I know its a chunk, but I hope its worth it. It would make me immeasurably happy if you would read through it.
If you find it hard to read off the blog I would be delighted to send you a copy.
I welcome feedback and comments.

Thanks so much for reading,
Miss Pickwickian

Where Loyalties Lie
©Miss Pickwickian

Prologue

In a little house in a big country, ruled by Duke EMorrias, there was a little boy in a little room.
It was a dark room and it was a dark boy.
He didn’t mind. Dark was his favorite color.

In his town he had no name.
He was just another fatherless child of a disreputable woman. He didn’t even have the decency of a beggar.
No one knew him.

In twenty years every man would know him.

In thirty, only one man would remember him.

Chapter One

Danadar was as sprawling and erratic as the heir to the throne. It tended to evoke the same feelings. It was impossible to be moderate. It was either hated vehemently or loved devotedly.

As for Ramirez, he desliked both the heir and his castle.
This was his first encounter with Danadar’s ancient hallways, and anything that could make him feel so incompetent was certainly to be despised. He had yet to meet the heir, but by nature of the heir’s place of birth, Ramirez knew he would be a very ugly, wretched, young man.
Being on Vawnbrecht land made him feel dirty. He wanted to go home to a plain and simple existence -- to barracks of black and gray, to a life of calm, rational war for war’s sake. No one had come to Vawnbrecht for over a 100 years. Why now? Why him?

His decided gloom recoiled at a ring of laughter echoing off some centuries-old wall. The sporadic clomp of shoes on old stones promised the arrival of someone. At least that might mean directions out of this hole. Happy or sober, Vawnbrecht or not, it would be a someone to be interminably grateful for.
He was unforgivably shocked to suddenly find himself around a corner and in the presence of two very bright-faced merry makers. A laughing girl leaned against the wall, and at her feet lay a boy. Or was it a man? Perhaps he was still stuck somewhere in-between.
Ramirez straightened his collar. He was obviously unnoticed, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be. A girl and a boy dancing and laughing smacked of romance-- something Ramirez would avoid at all costs.
He turned, but as he did, the boy snapped up from the ground. Ramirez could immediately see that the boy was not a boy. He was a man whether his years decreed it or not. It wasn’t the impressive array of weaponry. It was the soul that could be seen in his face. For a moment Ramirez thought the expression of dislike must be a mirror of his own, but it faded.
The girl was still dawdling around the door of womanhood. Still innocently unaware of how beautiful she was. “Can we help you?” She stood away from the wall.
“No.” Ramirez turned again to disappear behind the corner. He didn’t think such a likable young lady could be safe if she was born in Vawnbrecht.
“You’re lost.”
Ramirez didn’t like the sound in the man’s voice at all. To deny would be no use. Why else would he be turning back to the way he came? And, he had the disturbing feeling that this boy-man could see into himself as Ramirez had seen, just for a moment, in the boy’s solemn face.
Ramirez tried what he thought could pass as a smile. “Yes, can you point me towards the hall?”
The girl smiled much more genuinely. “We’ll take you there.”
Ramirez was surprised to be pleased. “Thank you.”
The couple began to walk back the way Ramirez had come. How embarrassing.

“You are one of the embassy.”
Ramirez didn’t like it how the man asked questions like statements.
Yes, he was one of the embassy. He’d come because the Duke, Eldine, Edion, and Lord Bithron had all thought it the thing to do. But why? The heir could surely travel to their country with his own retinue. It would certainly be safer.
He stifled his questions and nodded. “Yes, Ramirez Kenzel.” He flinched and offered his hand.
The frowning wrinkles on the soldier’s forehead smoothed. “Judvor Lewq.”
Lewq. Edion would know all about the name, but it created no more than a slight ripple in Ramirez head. He knew he’d heard it, but that was all.
“And this is Lady Lilly Ephramean.”
That created a wave. Lilly Ephramean belonged to the heir. She possessed the richest fortune in both countries. She had as much right to the Vawnbrecht throne as anyone. Ramirez couldn’t believe that he’d almost let himself admire her. But even more than his surprise in himself, he was surprised by this man, Judvor Lewq. What was anyone doing laughing and dancing in a prehistoric hallway with another’s intended?

Ramirez had always known Edion was right. Romance and love were nothing anyone should trifle with. Complications should always be avoided. Maybe the Vawnbrecht royalty wouldn’t be so hard to topple after all.


Ramirez could not believe the inefficiency of Vawnbrecht celebration. It was hours into the feast and nothing had been accomplished besides extensive eating and tireless drinking. He walked over to Edion.
“It will soon be over.” Edion grinned and motioned for his brother to take a seat. “I can see you are enjoying yourself.”
Ramirez sat. The chair was excessively cushioned.
Edion leaned forward from his lounging position and peered at Ramirez. “You look a bit peaked. Have you eaten?”
Ramirez straightened his collar and shook his head.
“What a snob you are. It’s plundering. It’s not like you’re accepting hospitality.” He reached for a nearby platter. “I enjoyed most of these, but I’m afraid I couldn’t manage these foreign things.” He cautiously prodded the small vegetable appetizers. “Green isn’t exactly my color. Perhaps you can manage them?” He took a long puff on his pipe. “Wine then? It’s very good.”
Edion would know. He enjoyed a good drink, or two, or three. Ramirez knew no one who could appreciate so much alcohol and remain sober every day of his life.
Edion placed the platter on Ramirez’ lap and recoiled into the depths of his arm chair. “Eat up.”
Ramirez didn’t feel like grazing on greenery. Instead he asked that question that was on his mind. “What do you know about Judvor Lewq?”
Edion closed his eyes for several moments and enjoyed his pipe. “Hmmm…There is such a great number of Lewqs. Related to the Ephrameans in some way, distantly maybe.” He reached for his glass. “Wilken Lewq is Lady Ephramean’s uncle, and he has numerous sons. I don’t think this Judvor fellow is one of them. If I recall correctly he has no money or title or parents either. Quite touching, really.” He stirred his wine with a smoky finger.
Edion didn’t think it was any more touching than Ramirez. It was nearly the same story as their own, only their parents had created a great deal more trouble then just not being there. But then…all that was more common in their country. Vawnbrecht was just a little too high and mighty to recognize talent in everyday people.
“Meet anyone else interesting?”
Ramirez removed the platter from his lap. “Only Lady Ephramean.”
“Only Lady Ephramean. And how did you like her?” Edion slumped back in his chair.
“I don’t know.”
“A very good and safe answer.” Edion grinned. “She’s too young to be completely spoiled by being female.” He chuckled. “You haven’t met the heir then?”
Ramirez shook his head. He didn’t really want to.
“Well, you will.” Edion pointed a long finger. “Here he comes.”
The man, the very young man, walking towards them was crammed into an ill-fitting brown suit. A suit that encompassed him with such affection that it gave the immediate appearance of a devotion lasting far beyond the natural course of time. He ambled with poise, if ambling can be done so. A grace simply derived from the comfortable, if unusual, fit of his position. Something his suit had yet to learn.
Edion remained in the folds of his chair but motioned Ramirez to stand. “DeElliot, may I introduce my brother and fellow captain? Ramirez Kenzel.”
The young man gave a slight bow and cock-eyed smile. “Very pleased.”
Edion made a sweeping motion. “Ramirez, Lord Dietrich DeElliot, heir to Vawnbrecht.”
Ramirez was surprised to find that the heir’s hand shake was firm and riddled with calluses.
“I’m glad you could come. I look forward to getting to know you all.”
Ramirez wished he could believe that this aristocrat was just being polite, but he couldn’t. However ridiculous his ill chosen attire, wild red hair, and unabashedly over-grown limbs, Lord Dietrich DeElliot was not pretentious. Disliking these Vawnbrechtians was becoming more difficult then Ramirez had imagined.
“You have met my right hand, Judvor Lewq.”
Ramirez turned to notice his earlier acquaintance. Judvor’s blonde head only reached to DeElliot’s shoulder, but that didn’t matter much. He was as thick and forbidding as any seasoned soldier with eyes as bold as Ramirez imagined his hand when challenged.
Ramirez nodded.
DeElliot narrowed his eyes. “You ever talk?”
Ramirez caught a grin escaping Judvor’s tight lips. It made him feel immeasurably stupid.
Edion snorted and sat up from his cushions. “He talks, but not half so much has he thinks, which is something he overdoes. He indulges in it for hours at a time.” He thrust his pipe back in his mouth and spoke around it. “Please join us.”
“Thank you. I always welcome hospitality in my own house.” DeElliot chuckled and instead of taking a chair, perched on a heavy stone table edge.

Ramirez wondered if Dietrich DeElliot and Judvor Lewq had half as much decided hatred for his own countryman as he did for theirs.
Judvor Lewq the right hand of the heir? And Judvor had already told DeElliot about their encounter. It all seemed very odd.
If he had a woman, which he was sure he never would, at least not with Edion hissing warnings in his ears, he would never let any man get as close to his as this Judvor seemed to be. But his woman would never dance and laugh down ridiculous hallways. Or, he sighed, be half as beautiful, or half as rich, as Lilly Ephramean.
He looked back up at DeElliot, who was swinging his lanky appendages underneath the table. “Your brother tells me you have no appreciation for poetry or art or writing or thrilling stories, but that you do have a gigantic appreciation for weaponry and riding and all that.”
Ramirez nodded. “Reduced appreciation for all the former compared to my brother, but enthusiasm for the latter.”
“But appreciation for vocabulary, I see.” He smiled. “Well, you should have a lot to discuss with Judvor. Except of course, he doesn’t need so much weaponry, pistols, riffles and all that.” He raised his eyebrows. “He is deadly with his bare hands.” He made a ripping sound.
Ramirez didn’t doubt it. The young man in question remained deadpan.
DeElliot reached for a glass. Ramirez had the uneasy feeling that it was not unused, but DeElliot tried it enthusiastically. “I am looking forward to learning all your fighting ways.”
Ramirez was sure that the greater part of his own country would be happy to show him their way of fighting. Why was DeElliot coming into the enemy’s land so willingly? Didn’t he know there was an underlying war? The DeElliots might own land in both countries, but that was only going to add to his unpopularity. Dietrich DeElliot should stay right here in his absurd medieval castle and prepare for the chaos that would come during his reign.
DeElliot set his adopted glass down and spoke with concern. “Is he a mute?”
Edion chuckled, but Ramirez was saved from further discussion by a hoard of riotous children. They swarmed around DeElliot, and like ants, began crawling up assorted limbs. Ramirez stepped back as DeElliot began to sway. He was laughing. “Easy, all of you!”
Ramirez half-heartedly wondered if he should assist, but Judvor seemed unmoved and unsurprised.
DeElliot tottered into the crowd followed by shrieking boys who had not found an appendage from which to swing.

“Captain Judvor Lewq?”
Ramirez turned back around to see Lord Bithron smiling his forged smile at the Vawnbrechtian soldier.
“No title.” Judvor didn’t offer his hand. “Just Judvor Lewq.”
“ I beg your pardon. I assumed someone so close to the future king…” Lord Bithron tightened his lips. “Well, anyways. It doesn’t matter.”
“He has never owed me anything.” If Judvor was a dog-- and he would make a very good bulldog-- his response would only have been a growl.
“I beg your pardon.” Lord Bithron smoothed a hand through his dark hair. “I was merely making conversation.”
“Don’t.” Judvor turned.
Edion raised his eyebrows at Ramirez. It was refreshing to hear anyone being rude to Lord Bithron. But Lord Bithron was not one to start a conversation without a purpose.
“I hate to trouble you, but I really would like a word in private.”
Judvor gave a searing frown.
Bithron motioned towards the nearest hall door. “You will be interested in what I have to say.”


Ramirez sat back down and watched the door slowly swing closed. “What would he want?”
Edion had closed his eyes. “Hmm…You know. Discord, unhappiness, power, hate, wickedness. I don’t think you have much to worry about. I don’t imagine Judvor Lewq to be the sort of young man to listen to most of his venom.”
Ramirez wished Lord Bithron hadn’t come. Or that he hadn’t come. He didn’t like to be associated with such a man. Besides, he wore the most peculiar clothing and never looked neat. Why couldn’t he wear a tailored black suit?

But if Ramirez really asked himself if he wished he’d stayed behind, he would answer that he didn’t. He and Edion were captains of the army and were loyal to their duke, but even more loyal to Eldine. And Eldine had wished them to come.


Chapter Two

Judvor was more punctual for Dietrich’s departure than Dietrich himself. He stood, arms clasped behind his back, staring ahead at a cold stone wall. Ramirez didn’t need to wonder if they would startle him. For all he knew, Judvor might be hiding another set of eyes underneath the shoulder length hair on his head.
Edion removed his pipe from his coat. It was never too early to spend quality time with it. “Good morning.”
Judvor grunted and turned. His face was expressionless, but the purple encircling his eyes betrayed a sleepless night.
Ramriez wondered if he’d even left the dining floor.
“You’re not coming?”
Judvor shook his head, but motioned to the trunk on the floor. “Just things I don’t want to see him leave the country without.”
Edion shrugged. “More heavy weaponry?”
Judvor was serious. “Yes.”
Edion nodded congenially and peeped down the hallway to see if Dietrich was in sight.
Ramirez leaned against the wall. His tired eyelids told him that Vawnbrechtians had no idea what a decent hour was. A long and early journey was infinitely more important then partying until the early hours of the morning.


“My apologies for the delay.” DeElliot was smiling around the bag, pistol, and crate he was hauling.
“I’m sure the duke will be forgiving.” Edion tapped out his pipe.
“Excellent.” Dietrich came to a halt and let his shoulder bag slide. “We don’t want any bad beginnings. I have such an assortment of relatives to bid farewell, I really hadn’t been able to talk to my parents until this morning.” He turned distractedly. “Judvor, you look horrible. Where is Lilly?”
“Coming.” Judvor motioned DeElliot to the trunk. “Take this with you.”
“Thank you.” Deitrich didn’t look in it, but he didn’t seem to be curious.
They all stood silent for a moment, and then Judvor reached inside his jacket. Gently in his rough hands he pulled forth a sheathed ivory-handled knife.
“Oh no, Judvor.” Dietrich grew serious and waved a hand. “Keep it.”
Judvor held it forward. “I know you won’t need something like this, but take it with you.” He almost smiled. “I know you’ll come back with it, or I’ll have to hunt you down.”
“No.” Dietrich shook his head. “You don’t need to worry.”
Judvor opened his mouth in protest, but their attention was turned to a hallway and the clatter of hurrying feet.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” Lady Lilly Ephramean was breathless.
Dietrich took her arm. “You aren’t late.”
Edion raised his eyebrows and puffed his pipe back into life.
Lilly was free of her finery of the night before and instead wore a plain black skirt and white blouse. Her hair was simply, and probably hurriedly, pulled back to fall in waves just below her shoulders. There was nothing of the heiress of Vawnbrecht anywhere on her, except of course, the Ephramean crest on her finger that marked her as the richest individual in her country.
Ramirez glanced at Judvor, but Judvor was crouching down and tucking the knife into DeElliot’s overstuffed bag. If Judvor had any admiration for the girl and her fortune he had time to brew over it after DeElliot’s departure.
“All of you gather around.” Dietrich motioned for them all to come closer.
Ramirez hoped there wouldn’t be any bursts of affection. He was already uncomfortable.
“I want the three of you to witness.” He turned to Judvor. “You are my most loyal and oldest friend. I wish you were coming with me for my own comfort’s sake, but I’m glad you’ve agreed to stay.” He smiled down at Lilly. Ramirez was afraid she was about to cry and looked away. “I have something very precious that needs to be guarded here.”
Ramirez loosened his collar. Yes, she was very precious indeed. She could put money back into Vawnbrecht royalty, but this girl was well deceived if that was all DeElliot cared about.
Dietrich put his hand on Judvor’s thick shoulder. “You are the only man in the world I would trust with such a charge. I know you will guard her even better than I could.” He thwacked he friend’s back and straightened.
Ramirez was afraid that the heir was suppressing a sniff.
“And,” DeElliot turned back to Edion and Ramirez. “You, I hope, will be my new friends. And I trust, as gentlemen, you will keep your word and help me return safely.” He smiled at Lilly’s worried look. “Not that I shall need much help.”
He took Lilly’s hands and enveloped them in his long, rough fingers. “Now, I want you to know, my dear, that no matter what happens, I am coming right back here.” He pulled his crest of his finger and slid it on hers. It swung loosely. “I know I’m a young good-for-nothing and that I don’t know much and haven’t seen or done much. But one thing I’m going to do before I die is marry you. We’ll live right here and have plenty of room for a herd of children. And you’ll be the prettiest , most beautiful and patient wife in the world, even when you’re so old neither of us can walk up stairs.”
Lilly wiped her eyes with her white sleeve. She bent and slipped her own ring off and pushed it onto his finger, it lodged just above his knuckle. Her laugh came through a sob.
He tilted her chin up and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m coming back.”
She took his hand and gently kissed it. “I know .”

DeElliot and Judvor shouldered his bags and hauled his trunks towards the door. Ramirez lingered. He wanted to say something reassuring to Dietrich’s lady. She stood confident, but her stance was shaken by quiet sobs. There was nothing reassuring to say. Ramirez and Edion knew that if there was anything that they or Eldine could do, Dietrich would not be coming back. At least not be coming back to claim his crown and his intended and her fortune.
He turned to leave, feeling remarkably stupid. Why had he ever let himself sympathize with the lives of his enemies? And why had he allowed himself to admire Lilly Ephramean?
Before he could escape through the door he was stopped by a cool hand on his arm. Lilly looked up with shinning eyes. “You’ll make sure he comes back.”
Ramirez nodded.
He knew he couldn’t, but he nodded.

©Miss Pickwickian