Chereads / There Might Be Dragons / Chapter 9 - A Party

Chapter 9 - A Party

Sean did not win the argument over Amelie.

Alex and Jack didn't see him all day, though they suspected that was because he had planned on getting on his mother's good side by helping with last-minute preparations for the day. The two of them, on the other hand, planned to stay as far away from all that as long as they possibly could. They took the horses out for a ride into town in the morning, though Alex had to let Jack take Amita. If there was any old family wyvern worse at horse riding than Alex, it was Jack.

"The only people who ride horses in New York City are cops," he muttered like he always did when he had to ride one.

"I promise you don't look like a cop," Alex assured him as he got on the horse that did technically belong to him. He was a stallion named Mani, jet black aside from a white diamond on his forehead. He was very smart but also very stubborn. Alex had a feeling Mani was him because no one else wanted him. That only did more to endear him to Alex though. He didn't respond to physical affection as much as Amita did, but Alex had a feeling he knew that if he acted up too much no one would let him annoy them anymore. So, he was always temperamental, but never so much that he was unbearable. He reminded Alex of Jack in that way.

"Do you think we'll be back in time?"

"If you can keep up, yeah." Once they were clear of the stables Alex urged Mani to speed up, and he ran with it. He heard Jack shouting insults behind him and slowed Mani down enough for him and Amita to catch up.

The two got back to the estate later than Alex had thought they would. The real reason it took them so long was that Jack had let a trio of girls stop him in town, asking to pet Amita. He had tried his hand at flirting with them, but all of them had been far more interested in the horse.

"Can't believe I got cockblocked by a horse," he muttered to himself on the way back.

"Maybe they thought you two were a couple," Alex said, looking over his shoulder to flash him a grin. Jack did not look amused. "Sorry, Sean came up with that one last night, but he couldn't figure out a way to use it in conversation. I told him I would try."

"Well, aren't you a considerate cousin?"

"I'm starting to think you've been compensating for something with all these girls, Jack."

"Yeah? What exactly?"

"Am I wrong to assume that you didn't just ask Miranda out on a whim? And that when she said no, it hurt you?"

Jack didn't answer right away. He just urged Amita forward enough so that she and Mani were keeping pace with each other. "It wasn't that she said no," he explained once he was closer. "I would have been fine if she just said no. It was why she said no. Because she wanted to say yes. But she said no, because of my family. Because of who I am." Jack looked down at a spot of worn leather on his saddle. "She said no because she knew they would disapprove, and she didn't want to be on the other end of that. And I get why, but it was the first time since I've known her that she acted a certain way because of them. I never thought she would... But I get why. I do."

"I know."

"It still hurts though."

"I know."

Jack glanced at Alex out of the corner of his eye. Alex could tell what he was thinking. He didn't know. Alex had never even come close to knowing what heartbreak was. Not that kind, at least. But Jack also knew that was just Alex's way of saying he empathized, so he didn't say any of that. He just smiled and urged Amita to go faster.

"Come on, no sense in you getting in trouble just because I couldn't get a date," he said as he moved ahead.

Alex was sure he would have gotten in trouble if anyone had been around to notice how close they were cutting it coming back, but everyone was too busy getting ready for the party. After they got Amita and Mani settled into the stables they raced back to the house, and Jack went to the actual room he was supposed to be staying in to get cleaned up and dressed. Alex was in the middle of straightening the bowtie around his collar when Jack came back into his room.

"How do I look?" he said, showing off his new tuxedo. It had a slightly purple hue to it that shimmered when he moved. His bowtie also looked uncharacteristically well done.

"That's a clip-on, isn't it?" Alex said, pointing to the bow.

"Miranda bought it for me."

"She knows you well."

"Hey, I think you're finally growing into that thing. Took you long enough."

"You think so?" Alex looked at his reflection in the full-length mirror. His tuxedo was a simple black one, the only spot of colour being the red cufflinks that used to be his father's. He supposed he looked significantly less like a hanger this year, though not quite like a proper man either. "It still feels ridiculous."

"Trust me, you look way better than last year. Your hair could use some work though."

Alex frowned and tugged at a strand of his hair. It was longer than he had ever let it grow, the wavy strands falling just below his ears. If his hair was straight, it would probably be reaching his shoulders. His mother had looked disapprovingly at it a couple of times, but she had yet to say anything about it. He wanted to grow it out, for a reason, he was slightly embarrassed by, but he knew the second she told him to he would cut it short.

"You're one to talk," Alex mumbled.

"Fair enough. And it looks good for the shabby chic style you normally got going on-"

"Shabby?"

"-but for formal occasions, it needs some, you know, actual styling." Jack walked over to one of the bags he had brought and started rifling around.

"I feel like I don't need to remind you about my sentiments towards you getting near my head with sharp objects."

"Relax, I'm not going to cut anything. I'm just going to do it up with the product. If you'll let me."

Alex sighed and sat down on his bed. "Fine. I'm sure you can't make me look more ridiculous than I already do."

"Shut up, I'm going to make you look fabulous."

Alex wasn't sure if fabulous was the right word, but at the very least no one at the party was staring at him like he looked particularly ridiculous. Though his mother didn't comment about things he could improve like she usually did, so maybe Jack had done a pretty good job. Alex did need to keep reminding himself not to run his hand through it, lest he get them covered in God knows what Jack put in there.

As soon as they arrived at an already half-filled ballroom, Alex and Jack found Sean sulking by the open bar. The rule was supposed to be only one drink, but he looked about halfway through his third already.

"Do I need to tell the good bartender to cut you off?" Jack said. "I have that power you know."

"Use it to tell my parents to piss off instead," he muttered, looking not at them but at Noah and Mary. They were standing near one of the windows that looked out to the garden, socializing with some wyverns Alex recognized but couldn't name. Noah had his arm around Mary's waist, but the way they were both noticeably tense made it obvious neither was thrilled about the contact.

"I take it that Amelie will stay locked away," Alex said. "I'm sorry."

"How long do they think they can keep doing that, huh? What happens when she's a little kid who wants to be with the world? When she's our age? Are they going to keep her locked up in a tower forever?"

"When Alistair makes his entrance, we can go hang out with her," Jack suggested. "No one will notice we're gone when they're too busy kissing his boots."

"I don't know, forcing her to be around you seems like more unjust punishment."

"Well screw you too then."

"He's at the mean drunk phase," Alex observed, taking the glass Sean had been drinking from and sniffing it. Whiskey. "This must be his fourth or fifth then."

"Yeah, no more for you," Jack said, taking the glass and throwing back the remaining contents down his throat faster than he probably should have.

"Hey," Sean whined. "That was mine, fucker."

"Come on." Jack put the empty glass on the counter of the bar and started herding Sean towards one of the windows' bench seats. "Al, you think you can wrangle up some coffee or something?"

"Irish coffee please, waiter," Sean added. "Don't give in to his hypocritical prohibitionist propaganda."

"I'll make him some tea," Alex decided.

"Oh, can you make that fancy Indian kind?"

"It's not that fancy, but sure, Sean."

Sean seemed satisfied with this enough to let Jack push him wherever he wanted. Alex headed towards the kitchen, praying to any deity that cared to listen so that no one notices him on his way. It wasn't exactly the most inconspicuous thing, leaving the room before Alistair got there to go somewhere only staff would have a reason to be going. Just when he thought some deity had decided to humour him, he felt a sharp tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to see Hannah Palmer looking at him with an emotionless smile.

"I've been looking for you, Alexander," she said. "Fashionably late isn't what I would expect from you. Jonathan is having too much influence on you, I think."

"Hello, Hannah," Alex said, trying to keep his voice steady. She had to know she made him feel uneasy, but he still felt the impulse to not make it obvious.

She looked pretty in a different way than usual, her long black hair done up with jewel-studded hair pins and her makeup slightly more elaborate. She was wearing a long-sleeved black dress that left her shoulders bare and flowed down to the floor. Pearls hung from her ears and around her neck, and on her left ring finger was the ring his mother had given to her parents when their engagement had been made official. She only ever wore it when she knew she would be seeing Margaret.

"I was talking with Sean earlier."

"You were?"

"He seemed to be in a bit of a mood, but he wouldn't say why. Is he so upset about going to Laughlin this year?"

"No, I don't think that's it."

"The rumours, then? They've gotten quite nasty. I hear people are wondering whether or not he's even Brennan's son. Ridiculous, of course, he's the spitting image of him, but still. I imagine it must get to him anyways."

"You'd have to ask him."

"Don't you two talk? I've noticed you've been getting on better lately. Since January, I think. Right after the whole scandal mess started."

"I didn't realize you were so interested in stuff like that."

"Stuff like what? Stuff like you? I'm always interested in you. Are you not interested in me?"

"I-"

"That's a rather cold disposition to have toward your future wife."

"I didn't-"

"Where were you going?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Just now. You were on your way out of the ballroom, right? Where were you going?"

"To. . . make tea."

"Make tea."

"Yes."

Hannah furrowed her brow and looked at him like he was a particularly puzzling maths problem. "Why not get a servant to do that for you?"

Alex frowned at that word. "The staff's busy enough today. I can manage a cup of tea myself."

"Do you have a problem with the word 'servant', Alexander?"

"It's a little outdated."

"So, you call them staff?"

"Do you have a problem with that?"

Hannah shrugged. "It just feels. . ." she started, spinning the pearls on her necklace before deciding on how she wanted to finish the sentence. "Disingenuous, I guess."

"Disingenuous."

"I mean, think about it. Think about how long ago you think that word was still in vogue, and think about how different things are now. Or rather, how the same they are."

"I don't follow."

"Servant. Staff. Whatever you call them, the position is the same, no? Semantics aren't going to change that. They work for us. Depend on us. Fear us."

"We depend on them, too. This house would fall apart without them. This party wouldn't have even happened."

"So, what? Calling them staff instead of servants is your way of making an empty gesture of gratitude?"

"It doesn't feel empty to me. And servant feels like it's full of something else."

"I think what you're detecting is honesty, Alexander." Before Alex could think of a response to that Hannah twirled around, her hair almost hitting Alex in the face. "Anyways, I can see you're busy right now. I'll find you again later when you're not."

Please don't, Alex's inner voice silently begged as she walked away. He wasn't entirely sure what that conversation had been about. He wasn't even sure it counted as a conversation. He glanced around to see if anyone else was preparing to ambush him and ducked out of the ballroom as quickly as he could.

Some of the staff looked at him strangely when he walked into the kitchen but didn't say anything. He felt a little guilty about barging in when they were so busy, but it diminished slightly when the head chef Laura spotted him and smiled.

"Hello, sir," she said as she stirred a simmering pot of fragrant soup. "Come to get a sneak preview of the menu tonight?"

"Came to make the chai, actually," Alex answered. He never minded when Laura called him sir, mostly because she gave strange nicknames to everyone who worked under her. Sir seemed like a bit of a blessing.

"Oh, your dad feeling well tonight then?"

Alex tried not to look too disappointed at that question. "I haven't seen him yet, but I hear he's been asleep most of the day. The tea is for Sean. He's had a bit too much drink already and asked for some after we took away his whiskey."

"He'd be better off with regular water."

"I know, but he's in his mean phase right now so I figure it's best to just give him what he wants."

"Makes sense. All the ingredients are in the usual spot then. Let me know if you need any help."

"Thank you."

Laura went back to her soup as Alex went off to a slightly less hectic corner of the kitchen where all the things he needed were. Laura only thought it wasn't odd that Alex came back there because she had been used to his dad always going back there. He had been doing it since he and Margaret first got married, to make all the dishes from back home that Laura and the other chefs couldn't quite get right enough. When Alex was still a toddler, his father would always say that when he was old enough, he would teach him all the recipes he had learned from the chef who worked for his family. He guessed that plan was on pause for now. He had been barely well enough to teach him how to make masala chai.

As he gathered up and prepared everything he needed, Alex found himself thinking about what his father was like at his age. Fifteen, living in that big house Alex faintly remembered in New Dehli. Unlike Alex, his father had several siblings. Five ahead of him in age and four behind. He got along with them but wasn't particularly close with any of them. He would play football with his friends and doze off during his lessons and learn how to make makhani from a kind old woman named Ila. He knew he was engaged to a girl in England but had never met her. He wanted to study veterinary medicine, but his family would push him to be a doctor instead. He didn't know that it wouldn't matter in the end. Before he could even finish school, he would end up the way he is now.

Alex swallowed hard to get rid of the sudden lump in his throat. Why did he have to start thinking about all that now? The last thing he needed was to have a public breakdown at Alistair's party.

Save it for when you're alone, Alex.

For once Alex didn't have a problem listening to his inner voice. He suppressed his urge to convey his emotions and focused on making the tea. He made three while he was at it, not quite realizing until he was done that he was going to have trouble being discreet about bringing them back into the ballroom. Laura must have noticed his hesitation because she got the attention of a server who had just brought back some empty hors d'oeuvres plates.

"Ziggy, help Mr Conrad with those glasses, will you?" She called out to them. Alex was pretty sure their actual name was River.

"Yes, chef," they answered, approaching with a determined if slightly nervous expression.

"Thank you," Alex said as they loaded the glasses onto their serving tray. They seemed thrown off by that.

"No problem, sir."

They lifted the tray with one hand, the liquid in the glasses not even threatening to spill. Alex walked ahead of them to get the door to the kitchen, then to the ballroom. The server had seemed to be growing less anxious as they walked together, but it came back when they saw they were taking the drinks to a very drunk Sean Conrad and Jonathan Farrow.

"Took you long enough," Sean half shouted, earning a smack to his shoulder from Jack.

"Don't be rude, asshole," he muttered.

"Hope he hasn't been too unmanageable," Alex said as he took a glass from the tray and gave it to his cousin. Sean may have been tempted to snap back at Jack, but the drink distracted him enough.

"As soon as Alistair shows up, we should make a run for it," Jack answered, a little surprised when Alex handed him a glass too. "Thanks."

Alex took the last drink and thanked the server one last time before they ducked away to go back to what they had been doing before.

"I saw Hannah stopped you," Jack said around his sip.

"That girl's a cunt," Sean, causing Jack to almost choke on his tea.

"Dude!"

"What? Am I wrong? And you!" Sean pointed an accusatory finger at Alex. "You need to stop letting her steamroll you all the time. What are you going to do when you're married and stuck together and she's still treating you like a doormat?"

Alex drank from his glass to avoid answering that question. Jack gauged his discomfort at being reminded of his future and nudged him with his shoulder.

"Hey, it might not be so bad. My folks hardly even look at each other outside of these kinds of things. You probably won't have to be around her long enough for her to drive you up the wall."

"I don't think I could manage to be around her long enough to fuck her," Sean added.

"You know what? You're acting like a cunt right now."

Sean scrunched his nose. "I don't much care for that type of language, Jonathan," he said, managing not to slur his words long enough to sound haughty.

"It's fine, Jack," Alex said, running his finger along the rim of his glass. "He probably won't remember any of this anyways."

"That's right." Sean grinned up at Jack. "You should take this opportunity to say whatever you want to my face, Johnny."

"I would rather tell you to fuck off while you're sober."

"You wound me."

"Good thing you won't remember."

The two of them continued to bicker while Alex took a seat next to Sean on the window bench. He felt Sean lean against his arm while he looked at the now almost full ballroom. Alistair still hadn't shown up yet, but he saw some students from the school he recognized along with their families. Jack's sister was with their mother, both talking to a wyvern from Yorkshire named Christian Alder. He had a son about Beverly's age, and Alex had a feeling they were discussing marriage prospects. Ronin and his wife were with Alex's uncle Thomas, and Laurent and Julia were talking with a couple of girls a year above them in school that Alex didn't know the names of. Julia's fiancé Christian Atkinson was sipping on champagne and looking bored as his mother gossiped with Alex's aunt Karina. Mikhail was noticeably gone from his father's side, and Alex was shocked when he finally spotted him. He was speaking to a pretty Asian woman in a blue dress, the usually stern expression on his face almost replaced by a happy one.

"Who is that?" Alex said, cutting off Sean about to call Jack something that even he would think was crass if he was sober. "Talking with Mikhail."

Jack scanned the room until he found his older brother, and got a strange look in his eyes when he spotted the person Alex had been asking about. "Ah Lim, I think is her birth name," he said, not sounding too sure. "She goes by Sabrina here and in the States, though. Cuz she liked Archie comics when she was younger."

"Aw, that's cute," Sean commented.

"Her family is pretty low on the social ladder when it comes to old families," Jack continued, "but they are super loaded. Even more so than my family, I think. One of their ventures is that luxury hotel chain, I'm not sure if you've heard of it, Partridge?"

"I have. We stayed at the one in London a couple of years ago. It's nice."

"Nicer than yours," Sean added.

"I know. Sabrina lives in London, but she travels to the States a lot whenever her dad comes in for business. She and Mikhail first met when they were 14, at a very awful dinner party my dad hosted in an attempt to buy out the hotel chain. It did not work, and in the process allowed that to happen."

"Allowed what?" Sean asked, narrowing his eyes at Mikhail and Sabrina.

"Look at them. Look at him. He's so far gone it's hard to watch."

"I don't follow."

"He's in love with her," Alex clarified.

"I know it must be a hard emotion for you to recognize, but yes, Alex is right."

Sean frowned in a way that Alex could tell was genuine. "Fuck off," he muttered.

"Mikhail is engaged to Vienna Piers," Alex said, though he knew that didn't need to be pointed out. Everyone knew who was engaged to the apparent heir of the Farrow family. The Piers family was the biggest old family in America after the Farrows. Vienna was the youngest girl, and she was very beautiful, but Alex had never really seen Mikhail look at her with anything but polite disinterest. Now he knew why.

Vienna was at the party as well, in a very flattering pink dress and surrounded by people enamoured with her. She was a very life-of-the-party type of person. Very unlike Mikhail and his stoic nature. There were times when opposites like that could attract, but Mikhail and Vienna hadn't even looked at each other since they arrived. Left to their own devices they would probably never even speak to each other, and yet they were meant to be married one day.

"She's nice, at least," Jack said, also looking at her.

"As nice as old family fucks like we get, at least," Sean said.

"Mikhail never struck me as the type to..." Alex started, but couldn't quite figure out how to say what he thought without coming off as rude.

"Be capable of love?" Jack finished.

"I maybe wouldn't put it like that."

"I would," Sean cut in.

"Shut up, Sean," Jack said, though his smirk and tone betrayed he didn't mean that one. "And that's just the way things got to go, I guess. Mickey had too much. Something had to be taken from him."

"But he didn't even get a choice," Alex pointed out.

"Technically he does," Sean said, "he just doesn't love her enough to make it."

"Are you saying any of us have a choice then?" Jack asked. "If Lily Roche hadn't rescinded her proposal and you had the balls to commit to Killian, do you feel like choosing between him and our family's plans would be a real choice?"

"Hey I resent that balls comment, Killian and I are fuck buddies, nothing more."

"So you tell yourself."

"You don't know shit," Sean mumbled, adjusting himself so that he was practically lying down on Alex. "Where is that old fuck? I want to leave already."

"Don't need to act pissy just because I can read you."

"You don't know shit, Jonathan."

Alex was surprised by Sean using Jack's full name. Jack must have hit a nerve he may not have even realized was there. He at least seemed to realize he should back off, and Sean figured out he should keep his mouth shut too. The three of them let a bit of a tense silence fall over them, just sipping their tea and trying not to make eye contact with too many people. Alex watched Mikhail and Sabrina a little longer. It was astonishing how different he seemed talking with her. He looked nothing like his father with Sabrina at his side.

Eventually, he looked away from them, worried they would feel his eyes on them. Unfortunately, that meant he spotted Hannah again. She had joined Julia, Laurent, and their schoolmates. He thought about what Jack had said, about his parents barely seeing each other. He thought about his parents, who were never anything beyond cordial with each other back when Utkarsh was still well. He thought about having that kind of future with Hannah Palmer. She wasn't going to be a wife, and he wouldn't be a husband. Not really. They would be business partners. Meant to uphold outdated ideas of prestige in their children.

He thought about his children, the ones he was expected to have. Required to have. He thought about them growing up to be just as miserable as him. Maybe even worse. He doubted he would be capable of being half the father his own had been. And maybe he was underestimating Hannah, but she didn't strike him as any more motherly than Margaret.

He thought about Sean suggesting any of them had a choice in their futures. He thought about the possibility of Mikhail refusing to marry Vienna Piers and running away with Sabrina, and the hell that would rain down on them if they did. Or maybe none would. Maybe with Ronin and Henry and Beverly and even Jack still available to head up the family, they could let him be. Maybe for the woman he loved, Mikhail could give that up. Maybe he never wanted it in the first place.

Alex thought about what might happen if he did that, and refused to marry Hannah Palmer. Ran away from his family. The thought had occurred to him many times. But too many things always stopped him. He couldn't leave his father. His mother would find him. Bring him back. Or do something awful to him.

But perhaps the biggest reason he never left was that he never had anywhere to go. He didn't have a Sabrina, someone he loved enough to want to run away with. He didn't know anyone who loved him enough to be willing to take him. He had three people left who cared about him. One was barely well enough to stand on his own and the other two were just as lost and hopeless as he was.

The chatter of the party died down as the piano started to play a piece Alex recognized as his grandfather's favourite. Alistair Conrad had finally arrived.

"Let's go," Jack said, putting his now empty glass down on the window bench and pulling Sean to his feet by his left arm. Sean still looked ticked off about their conversation but didn't pull away like Alex expected him to. "While they're all distracted."

Alex took Sean's other arm to steady him and the three made a beeline for the ballroom doors furthest away from the ones Alistair was entering through. Sure enough, the only ones who noticed them were the staff they passed. None of them even saw Alistair, they just heard the beginnings of the speech he made every year, cut off by the solid doors closing behind them.