Two: Jennail Loses Her Last

September 12, 1983- Ethelden Palace; Amhurst, Veronaville



Maya clasped Jennail's hand and lead her into the colonnade, combing the light rain from her dark blonde hair. The pair were habitually late for classes, tea service, prayer and anything else that they were scheduled to do. It was not uncommon for the marble halls of Ethelden Palace to echo with the sound of their heels as they ran, hand in hand.

The rain was picking up. It battered the western face of the building and was almost deafening through the open door. Jennail paused to catch her breath.

"Come on." Maya tugged at her friend's arm. Jennail doubled over, clasping her knee with her free left hand.

"No. You go ahead. I'll catch up." Maya frowned, poised to argue and Jennail let go of her hand. "I'll meet you before you reach the library," Jennail insisted.



"Alright. If I get there before you, I'll make some excuse." Ghostly plumes of moist air left Maya's parted lips as she panted. Jennail waived her on, too short of breath to conjure up another sentence. Maya, in turn, picked up her skirts and began to jog away. She barely covered a few paces before the door at the far end of the room flew open.



Even from a distance in that dimly lit room, Jennail recognized him. Maya stopped in her tracks, seeming to remark something unusual about the boy's sudden appearance though she could not have known who he was. A miserable groan rose from Jennail's throat, unbidden. Maya shot a questioning glance over her shoulder. The ladies' book circle be damned. Jennail's entire schedule was derailed by this. Even if he only passed with a polite hello, she would find herself unable to focus for the remainder of the day. From here on, everything she touched would fall to pieces.



The Sheut caught her stare and Jennail hastily lowered her eyes. The recognition was there but he did not smile or nod. He remained as cryptic and penetrating as he had been during their first meeting. Jennail crept up alongside her friend while the Sheut made his way across the room. He stopped a few feet away and bowed.



“I was wondering when I would see you again. I never did catch your name,” he said. Jennail grabbed Maya's hand in preparation to lead her out of the colonnade.
 
“And so you shan’t. Come along, Maya.” The Sheut raised a hand to still the pair and both complied automatically. Jennail's cheeks flushed in sudden frustration. “Peace go on you, Lord!” She had not meant to snap but everything about him triggered her defenses. Finally, his face broke into a smile.



Jennail replayed the previous moments in her mind, trying to determine what he found to be so amusing. She let go of Maya's hand and folded her arms over her chest, waiting for him to reveal his secrets. His eyes glittered wickedly. He shoulders shook with silent laughter. But beyond that, Jennail sensed that she would get no further insight. She sucked her teeth in annoyance.



"Be a gentleman." Her voice was low. Jennail was doing everything in her power to keep her breathing steady, still exhausted from the run. She would not let him think that he had that sort of effect on her. Still snickering, the Sheut stepped to one side, allowing them to pass.

"Of course. I'm sorry. Peace be with you."

As they walked towards the opposite end of the hall, Jennail could feel his eyes on her. She wondered what she had done to catch his interest and whether she wanted it.
 
“He’s cute, Nailli," Maya whispered. Jennail frowned.
 
“He isn't.” This, at least, she could say without second guessing herself. His features were too delicate and girlish for her taste.



“Her name is Jennail!” Maya spun about in mid-march, grabbing Jennail's arm. Her shout resounded against the walls, drowning out the rain.
 
“Maya!” Jennail sucked in her breath and glared at her traitorous friend. Her name was her final barrier of protection, the last wall that kept him safely at arm's length.
 
“Jennail Helouise Tricou. Nailli for short. And we live at number six Mornington Court.” Jennail pinched Maya's arm to get her to shut-up. Maya swatted at her hand. The Sheut looked on seemingly without thought or judgement.
 
“May I visit you sometime, Nailli?” he asked. Jennail spun around to face him.



“No but you may call me Miss Tricou!” The Sheut cocked his head to the side, considering her. Jennail didn't know what she liked less-- The way detached way that he observed her like a chemist monitoring a test tube reaction or the liberties that he took. Something or another about her was interesting to him but nothing more. And that he had the ability to make her angry or embarrassed, nauseated or enraptured-- That she could feel all of those things while he felt nothing at all-- infuriated her.



“My apologies, Miss Tricou. I hope that we'll see one another again.” Maya gave Jennail's shoulder a gentle tug and Jennail tried to shrug her off without success.
 
“Heaven help you if we do!” The threat sounded more forceful in her head. Kvornan shifted his weight to one leg. He winked at her. Jennail contemplated throwing her shoe at him but Maya took her by the arm.



“Who was that?” she giggled. Jennail paused before answering. His name sat like coagulated bile at the pit of her stomach.
 
“The Sheut of Proximus Deus." Maya's eyes widened.
 
“Honestly?” Jennail nodded curtly.
 
“Wow. And me with my hair in a complete mess. How do you know him?” Jennail fought the urge to turn back. She looked up at the ceiling, not caring to explain the situation but not wanting to lie to her friend.
 
“He owes me a meal," she said bitterly.