Cat Fight

Michael

The limo pulled to a stop ever so slowly. Prince Micahel stiffened at the sight of it. As did the other nobles. He wasn't sure what he would find when they exited. The windows were too dark to see through. They couldn't open the door from the inside so the driver would have to. Every second was agonizing as his first decree became a reality. The driver stood up from the car, shutting the door. Every crunch of his feet on the gravel made his heart jump. It was impossible to know if his own face conveyed calmness when his mind was a whirlwind.

The door swung open and a long moment drew on before someone stepped out. Ron. The son of Lady Anwir. His face was thin, as was the rest of him. His sweatshirt seemed to hang off of him, covered in grass and dirt stains. He had dark bags under his eyes, a rip in his loose jeans where a rough cut presented itself. His eyes were wide as he scanned the group in front of him. Michael could feel his mother tense beside him.

A young girl stepped out next, and while he wasn't usually one to stare… She was beautiful in a sad sort of way almost. He hadn't seen many pictures… but this must have been Emma. The lovely, fair, beauty dressed in pink and white stood from the limo next with grace, the polar opposite of the other boy. Her eyes were like saucers as she too watched the crowd of nobles. She seemed so frail against the black outline of the limo. She whispered something into Cmeron's ear. He nodded.

Princess Annabelle let out a squeak. Michael swiftly turned his head to see Jamsion emerge. Every inch of his visible skin was covered in scars and bruises and cuts. His shoulders were thrown back, face daring someone to ask or point. Michael's heart thundered. He looked worse than he'd imagined any one of them could. He turned to see the other two dressed in clothing that covered most of their skin. Were they too hiding scars and abrasions such as these? He glanced behind him to see a few of the nobles with hands over their mouths or frightened facial expressions. But all Michael could feel was horror. His own people were living like this…

Jamsion seemed to try to walk with ease but a slight limp gave him away. These wounds were new. Recent, even. He tried to see if the other two were injured in any way. Ron stood somewhat hunched, hood thrown over his head, the loose fitting clothing not eluding to anything. Emma was covered completely from her toes to the lacy pink collar around her neck, a blue shade of lipstick making her eyes even bluer, melancholy.

As he was looking away he felt something tugging right at his very mind. As one, the crowd of nobles all turned to the limo where a lean young woman stood. Her short figure would not have been described as impending, but the way her glowing eyes stared at everyone at once, the way power emanated from her entire being, he couldn't look away. Like a moth drawn to a flame his mind screamed at him. But thoughts of safety were far from him as he watched her take a step away from the vehicle towards the nobles. They all backed away a step, some shuffling slightly. The girl was all but glowing. Then the pull and draw of the power disappeared as fast as it came.

Did he imagine it? Was he simply scared that it might have been that way? He felt something sharp in the back of his ribs. His father. His speech!

He cleared his throat, taking a step towards them. "Cameron, son of Lady Anwir, Jamison, son of Fahad-Khaled the Genie, Emma and Gisa, the daughters of Audenzitios the Enchantress." He addressed each individually. They stared at him as one, each set of eyes boring a hole into him. "Let me be the first to officially welcome you to the United Continent. I sincerely hope you enjoyed the trip over and feel welcomed. We all came to personally get to know you and to welcome you into the society of the Continent."

He walked over to the four of them, offering his hand to shake each of theirs. His mother and father stood behind him, as well as, surprisingly, Annabelle. He shook Ron's hand, his fingers clammy as if he too was nervous. But then… it hadn't occurred to him how scared they would be in a new place full of people who possibly hated the backgrounds they had. He decided right then to change tactics.

"It's Ron, correct?" He asked as the handshake ended. "I'm very delighted to make your acquaintance then. I trust the ride over was fair then?"

Ron's honey brown eyes turned to meet his own. He nodded. Michael wasn't sure he was going to say anything but then… "I discovered what chocolate was."

Michael almost couldn't believe what he was hearing, "And?"

"And it was the most wonderful thing I ever tasted. I thought my tongue was going to have a heart attack."

Michael chuckled. "I am very pleased that you like it. It happens to be one of my favorite foods. Perhaps we should go to the factory that makes it if we ever have a chance, yes?" He smiled, his heart pounding in his chest. His head felt light, he focused on his breathing as he spoke with them. Calmly.

Ron nodded slowly.

He held out his hand to shake Emma's hand. She accepted it gracefully with her thin cold fingers, her other hand tucking a stray ringlet behind her hair. "It's very… very nice to meet you." Michael said slowly.

"You as well," she responded with a slight sweet voice, matching her figure and movements in its steady mournful way. "Your palace is lovely. I'd never dreamed there could be so much greenery in one place" she said as she glanced at the hundreds of flowers and plants.

Michael went to open his mouth to respond when Annabelle stuck out her hand. "I'm Princess Annabelle, Prince Michael's future wife." She pursed her lips in a saccharine smile that was not as reassuring as it should have been.

"Right…" Michael said. "This is Princess Annabelle and these are my parents. The King and Queen of the United Continent." The royal couple nodded solemnly in the direction of the teenagers.

Prince Michael extended his hand to Jamison who put both of his hands behind his back loosely. "Don't want to get your hands dirty Prince," Jamsion said sarcastically with an exaggerated dip of his head.

Well this was going wonderfully. Michael thought as he coughed awkwardly. Not quite as successful in greeting him as he'd been with the other two. He thought for a split second about his response and if he should comment on it or not. "Whatever you prefer," Michael said with a polite and respectable nod trying not to make it obvious that he was avoiding looking at the broken nose and swollen jaw. The healing, but still purple, bruises.

Jamsion chuckled lowly. The guards tensed, as did the driver. Jamison took note. "Relax, if I was going to do something stupid, I would have by now." Jamsion said as he rolled his shoulders backwards. "Ask Gisa, I say what I mean whether it is the right time or not."

Gisa nodded, her lips pursed into a line. "That he does. He gets very irritating very quickly. Soon everyone here will want to throw him out a window."

"I'm flattered." Jamsion said with a smirk in her direction. She scowled back.

"Well I am Gisa and I will shake your hand." Gisa said with a nod. She didn't smile at Michael, but at least she wasn't glaring at him.

"I'm very pleased to meet you as—" As his hand touched hers he felt a jolt go through him. Her lips quirked up on one side. Had she done that on purpose? He met her eyes which literally glowed green. It was almost hard to see, but the longer he looked into the emerald eyes the more he could see the faint pulsing light that—

"And again, I'm Annabelle," said Princess Annabelle. Micahel looked over to where she had quite literally interrupted to shake Gisa's hand. "You know, you look just like the pictures of your mother. Minus the horns of course." Michael's heart almost stopped. Everyone was quiet. "Or did they not grow in yet?" A self satisfied smile crept over her face.

Gisa met Annabelle's eyes, letting the glow within fade. "Actually no, unfortunately I won't be getting those. However, yours are very nice. They match your pointy tail. And say, where might be your pitchfork?" Gisa smiled, not missing a beat.

Michael hadn't prepared for this. He looked to his father who was equally dumbstruck.

"Excuse me?" Annabelle squealed. Gisa's smile remained. "I'm sorry but you're the daughter of an evil witch that tried to kill my mother out of jealousy!"

"Ah, Rose's daughter." Gisa said with a slight inclination of her head. "I should have known. My mother—"

"Well girls, why don't we continue this another time? We have many things to discuss that are more pressing." Michael's mother said calmly, placing a hand on each girl's shoulder. Her face was serene and reassuring despite the fight that almost fully unleashed itself on the patio. Michael breathed a sigh of relief, as did every other person including Gisa's companions. The two girls narrowed their eyes at each other, but dropped the handshake that had turned into a deathgrip between the two.

If something like this had happened nearly two minutes into their first meeting… "We want to invite you to join us for a late dinner on the patio. We left plenty of time to refresh yourselves first, so please feel welcome to do so. Someone can direct you to where you need to go." The King said, taking over when Michael was unsure how to continue.

They nodded. "I think that would be best for all of us." Gisa said. "We will join you shortly if someone could direct us…?"

Michael nodded. "It would be my pleasure to—"

"Let Charlotte show you." Annabelle said with a smile gesturing to a small old woman with gray hair and a sweet smile.

Gisa rolled her eyes. Michael's muscles went taut, but Annabelle placed an arm on his shoulder. "I need to speak with you before we go, okay sweet?"

Michael nodded, then turned to the four, "Then I will see you at the dinner?"

None of them bothered to acknowledge him in return except for Jamison, who bowed low and simultaneously flipped him off with both hands as they walked over to Charlotte with a few guards in tow. Michael watched them disappear around the corner before turning back to Annabelle. "I'm not quite sure how well that went."

Annabelle's forced smile disappeared. "Michael, did you feel that? Gisa has the power of her mother. And she called me a demon!" She whined leaning into him. "This is terrible. I won't be able to sleep at night with her in the same school."

He was tempted to tell her that Gisa called her the devil. "Annabelle, you know I'd never put you or anyone else in this kingdom in danger. My job is to protect my people and do what's best. Besides, whether you like it or not… the people on the island are citizens too." Michael kissed her forehead. She scowled. "I spoke with the defense minister and the generals and any other people that I might have needed to concern. I promise I will never let them hurt you."

She huffed. "And I don't like Emma. She's trouble. She was flirting with you right in front of me! And Jamison not only refused to shake your hand and insult you, but he flipped you off in front of a selection of the royal Court! Baby, come on."

Frustrated, Michael turned to her, "Nothing to complain about concerning Ron?"

"I'm sure something will be off about him too." She bit out, flouncing away towards her family. Her grandmother sent him a withering gaze that he chose to ignore.

"Son," his father said, walking towards him, "I know this didn't go as planned, but I'm proud of you. I know you will make good decisions from now on. And I believe we both owe your mother a very big thank you for defusing that untimely situation."

His mother smiled a little bit, hugging Michael, "No, I should have expected this, girls will nitpick each other until kingdom come even if there is nothing wrong with each other. They just happened to have some ground they disagreed on and got to fighting sooner than some would." She stepped back towards her husband's side. "I would be careful though, everyone felt that power of hers. And Annabelle and her family aren't the only ones who will not appreciate that. She needs to be taught to control it, but also not taught to use it as a weapon. We need to walk a very fine line. When you get the chance, I would speak to Mother Guardian, she should help you find how to handle that situation. But for now though son, let's prepare to welcome them to dinner."