I felt Edward staring at my back as I left. What I wouldn't feel couldn't be forced. Not by him. Not by anyone.
I trailed the hallway; the pictures aligned and the walls painted a stark white.
It's a wonder. A wonder I even felt anything at all.
In the corner, the table with its vase of freshly plucked flowers was elegantly tied; the spacious rug isolating my wing from everyone else.
These things. These people. This facade.
When Melvin died, that stadium filled with an audience dissatisfied…
Monsters. The lot of them.
His skin had shredded. His bones? Broken and torn. And his face was unrecognizable.
The demonic beasts ate and ate. And horror filled my eyes—
No one stopped it. And no one protested as he died.
All because his aura was weak and his status was low and his mother was undignified—
Painfully. Agonizingly. He died.
I screamed. I cried. But they cursed his cold, dead body. Because their bets were lost and their money gone. Because they were dissatisfied.
Melvin. My brother. My friend. And my only support. He died.
My father's reputation was damaged; his precious House not as perfect as he thought. He told the servants to quickly take Melvin's body out of sight!
If I hadn't…If father had only…if my mother could've…
If Melvin survived, just what would he have thought of this family? Of me?
***
I went back to my suite after eating. And bundled myself up to leave. It wasn't easy. I always struggled. Because the servants hardly served here. Because I was weak.
I laid my hand against the fur coat Melvin had prepared for me last year. And hesitated…
How soft it felt against my fingertips. How did he prepare such a thing for me? Without aura. Without money—
A knock. "My Lord." A softer whisper. "The Lady…"
"What is it?"
"Well, she—she's threatening to throw out Ms. Harriet if Master doesn't visit her tonight. S-she's gone mad, My Lord. Please, won't you come see her? Just for a moment, My Lord…"
Hah!
Harriet. Father's latest. An arrogant lady. Mother's perfect foil.
I slammed my hand down; the fur wrinkling unexpectedly—
Melvin. I froze. Melvin! And released the coat; my hand wavering beside my chest.
"Please, My Lord. I'm afraid she'll hurt herself!"
I stiffened. This was not the first time, nor was it the last. Mother…
And I clenched my jaw. What were they expecting? She—didn't she hate me? It was always only father. It was never me.
Her need, it wouldn't be fulfilled by me…
They knew. We all knew. And yet they called me still. Because I'm her son. Because I'm their heir.
As long as convenience was on my side…
"I will be there. Go. And make sure Ms. Harriet isn't harmed."
"Yes, My Lord." Her feet scrambled as she fled.
I, too, wished to flee. It wasn't anything new. Perhaps Melvin had the right idea, after all.
***
Mother raged.
For hours.
Glass shattered. Candles thrown. Even the delicate jade broke in her wild, bloody frenzy.
Soon enough, she threw herself against me—
Then flung me far away. "Your father—!" She gasped, pointing at the prettier, younger lady brazenly leaning against the armoire. "This woman—!"
What pretense I mustered quickly shattered in the face of her fury. My eyes dripped. She—
Didn't even see me. Not truly. I hid them behind my sleeve. "Mother," I said. "Ms. Harriet isn't—"
But a gasp.And Edward's mother, Persephone appeared; her delicate face crumpling dramatically as she stepped inside.
She, who faced the mess my mother had made, had already chosen a side.
"Why, Angelica! How could you be so cruel?!" She cried. She flung herself defensively in front of the kneeling servants. "T-This is quite beyond you, My Lady!"
Her calculated air of indignation. Her softened, moist eyes. And the precious, new fan father gifted only one concubine—
Her deliberate acts…mother just couldn't let slide.
"How dare you—!" Mother's eyes glittered strangely—
I sprang in front of her; the harsh crack of her hand smacked my face, leaving my skin burning and hot as my feet rocked.
Nary a word was spoken; the silence so intense I could feel the eyes.
Small, hidden smiles. And teeth like that of a shark.
Or so it seemed in my eyes…
"What are you doing, My Lady?! How could you hit your own son?!" Persephone turned to me softly. And gently spoke my name. "What say you, dear? Should I, perhaps, get your father?" She whispered.
I could see it, the disdain; her dark eyes tearing pitifully as she delicately cradled my hand.
I pushed it away. And stood my ground. "It is…a small matter. Just a mother disciplining her son, yes?"
I bowed to mother. And looked at everyone from beneath my lashes. "It is quite late." Mother needs her rest."
My cheek stung. "If you please…" I ushered them to the door, hearing the servants whisper and moan. But mother, she wasn't listening, staring down at her hand unpleasantly—
"If you need anything, dear…" Persephone patted my shoulder gently but her nails dug in painfully before withdrawing. Somewhat hesitantly.
I ignored it. And left; leaving my mother behind.
Nothing and no one stopped me from abandoning my responsibilities. They simply thought nothing of me at all…
But how did I get captured so easily? I had nothing at all to do with Edward and his silliness. The play? What play? Merely a dangerous whim of a foolish boy rebelling against his mother; a plot any storyteller could guess the ending.
Of course, I didn't go. Indeed, I was sure. I'd hear all about Edward's disastrous affair later that night—
Why, then, were my hands tied?