major minus

The meeting had ended. They were teenagers but they were representing families. Fabian for the Frommelts, Lena for the Vorstenbachs, Jurgen for the Aigners, Leonora for the Bruckners and Charles for the Prentiss family. The head of them all was a seven-foot whore named Marcelline of the van Kleins. He didn't even know who appointed her as leader.

He walked out of the room and sat on one of the chairs as everyone else walked in single file back home. He shook his head. Aunt Linnea didn't have a son or daughter to attend his meetings for him so he was stuck with attending them. He hated this. He hated being engaged to Lena and he hated losing Millicent.

Eloquently, the brunette walked out of the room, shaking Marcelline's hand stiffly. "I suppose I should thank you for having a successful meeting," replied she fervourlessly, eyes sour with contempt. The elder girl turned away, smirking. "Vorstenbach, you are too much," she mused, laughing humourlessly. The Uchitel held her breath. She couldn't - wouldn't - pick a fight with this bitch.

She scanned the children for Charles's beaming face. Or rather, it was beaming during the meeting, but she wasn't sure of it now. Her eyes fell on a glimmering pendant, the refracted light dancing in front of her, and scurried towards it. "Charles," she whispered, "I'm here."

Charles smiled at Lena, who he knew wouldn't smile back. He held her hand and dragged it down as gently as he could. "I know you're here," he said. His eyes looked at her brown hair and blinked. "I just wanted to know if you would come look for me. You're busy talking to van Klein because after she gets promoted you'll have to be leader of us. I know you will."

His eyes moved across her to her pendant. "You told me not to wear the ring, Lena. It's pretty and we're engaged and everyone should just know about it. You told me not to. Why?" Charles sighed, "I know I'm asking too many questions and I shouldn't but since you can't kill me..." He smirked.

Lena took Charles's hand once she was at arm's length with him, and sat down next to him. She gazed upon him, lips parted, her tongue warming up for the speech that was to occur. "I will," she replied coldly, shuffling closer towards the boy, "that is not something I should anticipate; being a leader is no easy task, Liebechen." She rested her head on his shoulders.

The brunette shook her head disdainfully, gripping her betrothed's hand. "For someone who knows so much you are very naive," she spat, "do you see these rings? We wear them on our fingers and we are eternally bonded. I also doubt that..." The Uchitel paused, "... he'd like to see me with one." She thought of the Hitrost she met in the Entrance Hall, and the conversation of snow and ice, and its deadly properties. Her gaze fell to the floor as her cheeks flushed.

Liebechen? First he was 'Idiot,' 'Prentiss,' and 'Retard'. Now he was Liebechen? He was sure that Lena's mood swings weren't just mood swings anymore... she had changed. Charles stammered as he tried talking to her. "I-It i-i-isn't. Being a leader is difficult. You have to do this and that right? Thank Merlin I'm not a leader of anything but my own family."

Charles began to laugh. "You've been single for two months, Le," he laughed. "I'm sure that he wouldn't mind you with a ring on your finger unless he's seriously not over you. He broke up with you in the first place and he deserves to see you happy." A new thought dawned on him and his eyes turned from joy to shock. "Wait! Your 'he' is Rhys, right?" he exclaimed. "Something tells me it isn't..."

"Yes," agreed the brunette, lifting her head of his shoulders to lessen the burden, "thank Merlin you are. I'm sure that if you were thrown anymore responsibility at the North Rhine Union would have exploded the moment you became leader." She tried her best not to break a chuckle, though a curve formed on one side of her lips.

The Uchitel Prefect rolled her eyes, opening and squeezing her hand. She was completely unaware of the chances of her hurting him but it didn't matter for the time being. "No, he isn't, Chuck," she replied humourlessly, nostalgia lining her tone, "it's another boy. From Hitrost. I don't fancy him or anything of the sort... though he interests me." Her eyes flickered upwards at the ceiling, Gothic chandeliers chiding her, "Do you understand what I mean?"

Charles agreed with the Uchitel, still holding her hand. "I'm no good at leading, Lens," he answered. "If the both of us had to rule over Bad Munstereifel because we had a war or something, I'd leave you to do all the ruling. I can't handle that much pressure."

Charles laughed though it wasn't because he found it amusing. "Lena, you and Hitrost boys. Me, then Frodo, then this other boy. Who is it next? The werewolf?" he asked. He knew she'd probably kick him but he didn't have time to worry right now. "I understand what you mean though. You sort of like him but you don't have a crush on him right?"

Lena paused, pondering the thought of Bad Munstereifel under her control. She imagined herself holding the hilt of her knife and threw it across the room, forming dust trails behind her wrist. "The thought of me being a leader is tempting," she muttered, "yet I dislike the thought of ever being one. After all, I like being the skeptic in this organization."

The brunette paused, thought for a brief moment, and nodded. "I suppose you can put it that way," she replied curtly, slipping her hand away from the Hitrost's. "You must keep it a secret, Chuck." She stood up, and gazed back at her betrothed before walking away.