Perilous Playdate
“Sabran?”
“Go away.”
“Sabran I’m sorry.”
“Get lost Sirius.”
“Sabran please can we just talk?”
“I don’t want to talk to someone who’s ditching me and leaving me all alone to go to some knight school all the way in Obrille! You said you’d be my friend forever!”
“Sabran please! You know I don’t want to go.”
Sabran sighed angrily and marched over to her door. The small maroon aristocrat slammed it open and stared haughtily at the pouflon cowering outside- the effect was somewhat ruined by the tears in her eyes, shining as brightly as the glimmering jewellery she was adorned with.
The small grey pouflon she glared at looked at her ruefully, and walked in before she had a chance to close the door on his face.
“Well. You have two minutes.” Sabran said grumpily, jumping on her bed, where she proceeded to lie down and stare at the wall.
Sirius wasted no time.
“I’m sorry Sabran I swear I am I don’t want to go to some stupid knight school you know I don’t! My parents say its ‘character building’ but really I think they just want me there to make sure Avalon doesn’t get kicked out. She’s already offended half the nobles here, what’s to stop her doing the same with the professors? I don’t know why they make Alistar go instead, he doesn’t do anything but read it’d probably do more good for him than for m-“
“Wait,” Sabran said, silencing Sirius’ nervous babble. “You said your parents wanted you to go? To build character?”
“Y-yeah”, Sirius stammered.
“Well,” she said, narrowing her eyes, and grinning, “looks like I just need to do something to make them think the same for me.”
Sirius gulped.
….
“Sabran!” Her mother called, repeatedly, from the parlour. It had been three days since Sabran hatched her plan to get kicked out of the house and sent to the knight academy with Sirius, and so far she had come up with nothing better than faking hearing loss when she was called and slurping her soup.
“Sabran, I need you here now!” Her mother said again, losing patience.
“Yes mother?” She replied finally, taking the stairs two at a time.
Her mother sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t do that, dear. Be a lady”
Sabran rolled her eyes and waited for what was next.
“The queen is visiting Roseacre with her daughter. She’s worried that Fiorel doesn’t have much chance to socialise with pouflons her age, so they’re both coming for dinner on Thursday- I’ll be inviting the usual people- you’ll have Jesabel, Fleur, and Sirius and his siblings, likely. I need you all to make an effort to be kind, and courteous. Show her the manners of the finest houses in Roseacre.”
She paused, and leant in close.
“Do not embarrass us in front of the royal family.”
Sabran’s eyes lit up. This was perfect- Thursday was 4 days away. It was time to start planning.
…
The wait was agony. But finally, the fateful day arrived and Sabran leapt out of bed with a spring in her step and busied herself making sure everything was in order for the night.
Her attendants shrieked that evening as she came into her room dripping wet, (after an hour of scooping frogs out of the garden pond and into a large bucket she had hidden under her bed), and ran around frantically as they tried to get her as presentable as possible, tying her silky yellow hair into a bun and adorning her with pearls and garnets.
Sabran trembled in excitement as she walked into the dining hall.
The long table seated many pouflons- Sabran’s mother was smiling and talking amiably with Queen Nouvel herself, her unique curled horns and bright violet and green fur making her presence known immediately. Jesabel sat next to her mother, hair perfectly curled and long ears delicately framing her face. She had a bored expression on her face as she made half-hearted conversation with a delicate unicorn pouflon to her right.
The siblings all sat together. Alistar was smiling politely to a tiny green pouflon talking 100 miles an hour, and Avalon looked on with vague interest. Sirius was frantically trying to make eye contact with Sabran and work out the mayhem she intended to cause. Sabran ignored him.
Finally, she laid eyes on Princess Fiorel. The pink pouflon sat quietly, a crown of purple flowers adorning her head. She had a carefully neutral expression on her face, obviously feeling awkward, and out of place, and a tiny bit bored. All noble children were the same- tired of endless diplomatic dinners, but schooled enough in etiquette to know how to smile and wave when need be.
There was a curtain behind her, as Sabran knew there would be. And, luckily, an empty chair right next to the princess. Perfect for causing chaos.
Sabran slid into the chair next to her, and introduced herself. Fiorel did the same. The two stared at each other for a moment, not knowing what to say. Eventually, the food arrived, and Fiorel started eating- grateful for something to do.
Sabran waited, making sure she was properly distracted, before she waved her poof discreetly and forced the bucket that had been balancing precariously on top of the curtain over with a topple.
The terrified frogs rained down over the table and instantly the pouflons began to shriek. Sabran looked over at the siblings. Sirius was groaning. Avalon laughed at the chaos occurring. Alistar looked baffled, before one hopped onto his plate, and he turned a sickly shade of green, running out of the room. The small green pouflon ran after him, wings fluttering as she tried to match the gangly pouflons speed.
Jesabel looked disgusted and quickly followed suit.
Fiorel had tears in her eyes and sobbed loudly, and Fleur hugged the terrified princess in an attempt to comfort her. The hug was interrupted, however, by a large green frog who had up to this point managed to cling to the curtain rail. It landed on the princesses head with a squishy plop, and she screamed so loud, and so piercing, the room immediately fell silent, servants running frantically around soothing aristocrats and catching frogs.
Sabran’s mother glared at her with pure anger and beckoned for her to follow her out of the room.
Sabran gulped, no longer sure this was such a good idea. Meekly, she followed her mother down to the bottom of the garden. Her mother looked up at the house, making sure they were out of earshot.
“You are out of your mind and out of control,” she hissed, and then paused. Sabran bowed her head, waiting for the final blow.
“I’ve made up my mind. I’m sending you to the Obrille knight academy with Sirius- maybe they will teach you some decorum.”
She stalked off to try and manage the crisis in the dining hall.
If she stayed just a minute longer, she would have seen the biggest grin spreading across the little pouflons face.