Soon enough, the Mercs of the Messy Hand found themselves in Ludwig's camp, but unfortunately, they had been too late to catch its campers, and the site was abandoned. Strange looks flew from man to man as different peculiarities were observed. Light brown fur had been shed everywhere as if a great beast had entered the area. There were tiny splashes of blood in the dirt signifying violence. Huge claw marks were left scraped in the ground from the creature. Ash from the fire pit swirled around in the wind. The charred remains of logs sat white, cold and still.
The large wooden box was empty, though one corner was full of soft, shimmery fairy dust from Feliciano's first frantic flight from town. Yao seemed to be quite interested in the substance and asked Arthur if it had any special properties that made it useful, and more importantly, profitable. Arthur replied that it was simply dust and wouldn't make anything float in the air or heal the sick. Needless to say, Yao still pocketed handfuls of the dust from the box, just in case it did prove to be worth something later on.
The majority of the dust trail ended in the camp, and there was a smaller trail that was harder to see leading away. Arthur said that was from a fairy on foot. Hope was further restored that Feliciano had not been eaten by a monster when Ivan said the beast smelled like a dog, and the small trail leading out of the camp had the scents of a fairy and human. The human must have been Ludwig after reverting to human form.
With Ivan leading the way after the scent of fairy, the four traveled to a trail head with a name that read Crested Trail in Amotoile's language. It was a narrow trail. Nowadays people often came to Lafée from the road by horse. The floor of the trail was overgrown with weeds and moss. Arthur thought he saw a few snakes slithering through the long grass, and Yao was delighted to find a little turtle trying to cross. Before any of them knew it, half the day had been spent on the trail, and they were no closer to finding the fairy nor the human. It seemed they were always a step ahead and just out of sight.
It was when Yao spotted a small, dilapidated cabin partially hidden from the view of the trail when they decided to rest and take the pressure off of their weary legs. The other three protested. Arthur complained that resting would just waste time and allow the others to get even farther ahead, Francis was disgusted by the accommodation, and Ivan wasn't sure he would be able to fit into the cabin with his incredible stature.
"You must consider the well-being of your companions," Yao retorted after hearing the complaints. "My back aches from all this walking, and my legs are not the best for continuing on all day. This place looks nice enough."
"How in the world did you even get to Amotoile?" Francis asked.
"Walking and by horse. It is a long vacation."
Francis pulled open the door of the cabin. It was surprisingly well-furnished. Arthur could not understand why Ludwig and Feliciano could not have just stayed here for the night. Perhaps they hadn't seen it. It was hidden a little ways back in the trees. Two bunk beds lined the far wall, and a dry, splintered table sat in the middle. The roof had some holes that needed patching, but the weather didn't look like rain would come that night. Outside the cabin, there was a little clearing with an overgrown fire ring and smoothed over rocks for seats. Vestiges of fires long past rested in the grass and ash.
"I suppose I am getting a mite hungry," Arthur remarked as he explored the grounds. "But if we are to stay here, we mustn't leave it a mess in case it is someone's property."
Francis whipped his head around from where he was standing to look at the fairy. "You are hungry, dear Arthur? Say no more."
"You cook?" Yao asked, eyes sparkling. "I cook, too!"
"Do you? Ah, yes, I do remember you saying something about that. Yao, mon cher, you are looking at a master of the culinary arts. You may watch as I transform this food from town into a feast for the ages."
"I will not just watch. I will help you," Yao said.
"How are you going to cook that?" Arthur asked casually.
"We'll need to clear this fire ring. You can do that, can't you? We shouldn't get our hands dirty before working with the food."
Arthur raised an eyebrow, but he saw an opportunity to show his usefulness here. It was already a dry afternoon. Even the dew in the morning hadn't been enough to completely soak his boots when walking on the trail. The fairy knelt down beside the fire ring and concentrated on his heat spell. He focused on the grass in the ring, weaving his magical energy to jus the right shape. Suddenly, a lick of flame ignited a blade of grass, then another, and another. The fire ring burst into voracious flame, sending a wave of heat around to make the gathered sweat even more. The flames died as quickly as they came, and black, smoking curls of grass remained. Arthur took the poker leaning behind the cabin and swished the ash around.
"Who wants to fetch wood?" He asked.
"I can do that, yes," Ivan said. With his size, he was able to walk right through the twisted undergrowth of the surrounding forest and snap logs into smaller pieces with his bare hands. Little pockets of frost formed where he gripped them. He brought back a dozen and set them down close to the ring. Arthur began to stack them log cabin style so cookware could be set over the top.
Francis, meanwhile, was still trying to figure out what he had just witnessed when Arthur cleared the fire pit. Yao started to prattle to him about Arthur boiling the water for tea without fire and making a scab heal itself.
"I'll light it whenever you're ready," Arthur said. A little green flame licked his finger.
Francis snapped out of his awe and stuttered. "I suppose you could light it now. The sun will be setting soon. We'll want to be well-rested if we're going to do this again tomorrow."
Arthur let the flame roll off his hand onto the wood in a fluid motion. Upon contact with the wood, it grew and changed to a dark orange, content to slowly devour the logs. The mercenaries took their places on four of the five rocks around the fire. Arthur removed his outer vest and rolled up his sleeves and legs of his pants.
Francis and Yao set to work with the variety of foods he'd brought with. For cooks such as them, proper cookware was a necessity just like a proper shelter when trekking through unknown wilds. Yao had been especially prepared. From his belongings he produced a deep, metal cooking bowl and several ladles and long spoons. Francis brought out a cherished, handled pot, some small sauce pans, and his own smaller spoons. He also undid his vest and tied an apron around his waist.
From thence the food was prepared. The fresh chicken was cut into strips and placed softly over the fire. The two cooks sedulously added salt, pepper, thyme, cumin and other spices that seemed to appear miraculously in their hands. Yao requested that Arthur command the flames to be bigger, and he obliged so the shorter cook could boil rice and add it to the art in the big pot. Francis then brought out a cutting board and chopped peppers and tomatoes from Piamenta. The flavors combining in the pot attracted Arthur's interest.
"How can you two make this with no recipe in hand?" He asked.
"A true chef does not use a recipe. He follows his heart," Francis said as he blew a kiss to the developing culinary masterpiece.
"I just know how to combine flavors so they will match well and leave a man feeling satisfied with himself," Yao said.
"I could not cook like that," Ivan said. "When I was growing up, my big sister would cook for me. She was very good at it. And now I just have little servants do all my cooking. There is one servant I quite like. He is little water demon called Raivis. I find him cute."
"You have servants?" Arthur asked, a bit shocked at Ivan's rugged appearance. He didn't look like the type of man who would have servants, but then again, he wasn't a man.
"Yes," the demon grinned. "I am king of snow demons. Did you not know?"
"You never told us that!" The fairy exclaimed. He tried to contain himself and cleared his throat.
"Why do you dress like that if you are a king?" Yao asked. Clearly, it was the question on everyone's mind. Ivan had worn his plain, brown coat since he'd arrived, even when the sun beat down harshly. And wrapped around his neck was the same tattered scarf.
"You are making me embarrassed!" Ivan chortled. "These are very comfortable to wear. The scarf is from my big sister, and my coat is magic so I can stay cold while sun is out."
"I think I've heard of a spell like that," said Arthur, "Do you have fairies where you live?"
"Snow demon magic will make anything cold. I have not seen very many fairies in my life. That is why I was surprised to see you. You are interesting little creatures."
"Thank you...?"
When the food was ready, the two cooks piled chicken, rice and fried peppers onto plates, (also mysteriously materializing,) and served them to the other two.
The food proved to be fantastic. Arthur was not sure exactly how the two cooks were able to create such juicy meat from a wood fire, but clearly they had a somewhat magical talent. The chicken was coated in the savory spices to complement its natural flair. Diced tomatoes flourished over the top of the meat. The peppers were singed just enough to bring a light, flaky crunch to their skins. The heat had made them brighter in color and marvelously tender. The rice was perfectly moist and gave the broth a wonderful texture.
Arthur was experimenting with combining different flavors on his plate in his mouth when he heard the distinct sound of a twig cracking in the forest behind him. "Did anyone else hear that?" He asked.
"What?" Francis said. His face twisted in confusion.
"I thought I heard someone in the forest. It was a twig cracking."
"It was probably a twig snapping in the fire."
"Probably," Arthur said, though he was sure the noise came from behind him.
"If you need us to cook anything else, we'll be on it," Yao remarked once everyone was finished. A good few helpings of the meal still sat in the pot.
"Yao, I did not realize just how well you knew your cooking. You are magnifique. I was thinking of making strawberry crêpes for breakfast tomorrow, if you'd like to assist me," Francis said with a laugh.
"Oh, yes, I would love that," Yao said.
"I'll light the fire for you," Arthur said.
"Splendid, my dear Arthur. And Ivan, you can bring us more wood."
"I will do that," Ivan agreed.
Arthur suddenly raked his fingers through his hair quickly and glared at the demon.
"What?" Ivan asked.
"Apologies, Ivan, but if you would kindly not touch me, that would be wonderful."
"I did not touch you."
"Someone did. I felt for sure that someone was messing with my hair. Dumped sand in it or something." He brushed his hair forward, and sure enough, gritty sand particles tumbled down into his hand.
The darkness of nighttime encroached the group as the last of the stars showed themselves. The fire cast flickering shadows behind each man, and friendly orange light danced across their faces. Yao held out his hands to the blaze to warm them while Ivan withdrew his enormous hands into his coat to keep them chilled. Francis began yawning and speaking of going inside the cabin.
"Go ahead. You cooked well. You earned rest," Yao said.
"The food was excellent," Arthur remarked. "The one good thing that came out of Amotoile."
Francis frowned at the joke, but Yao and Ivan found it quite funny. Though they hid their sniggering, they couldn't hide the creases around their eyes from amusement.
Something hard hit Arthur on the head then. He whipped around to find a sharp stone lying on the ground behind him. He held it up and showed it to the others. "Who is doing this?" He demanded. "Sand may be a funny little practical joke, but who in all the blazes of the revelry under the hill has the nerve to throw this and hit me in the head!?"
Someone tittered in the darkness. This time, the others heard it, too.
"I do not think we are alone," Francis said worriedly.
"I don't care if it's the bloody dog-man that threw this. Whoever it is, come forward. Come clean. And you'd better have a good explanation for why you target me. Oh, good Titania, am I bleeding from the temples? Did this pierce me?"
Unfortunately, in his frantic accusations, Arthur did not look in the direction of where the stone had come from — behind him, where silently, a figure jumped down from a high tree branch and loomed behind the fairy as a great, menacing shadow. Arthur felt the lightest tap on his shoulder. When he turned, he saw only a dark silhouette with a stone raised high in one hand and a maniacal grin.
Arthur turned whiter than milk, and scared witless by the suddenness of the stranger's arrival and apparent wickedness, he let out a piercing scream that made nesting birds scatter and Francis clap his hands over his poor ears.
Arthur breathed heavily. His heart pounded even stronger than it had after his nightmare. He clutched his chest and looked at the ground with his vision blurring. Or was one supposed to look up when dizzy? He couldn't remember. A dreadful noise was blaring in the distance. Why was it so close, then?
"You, you shoulda seen the look! The look on your face! Priceless! So priceless! If I did that on campus, they would've dragged me kicking and screamin' to the office again! Oh! Oh, my freaking stars that was funny!" The figure kept wheezing things like this in and around his painfully loud laughter. "Are you okay? Oh, I didn't mean to scare you! Well, I mean, I totally did, but are you okay? Seriously, I'm sorry! I'm not, but I am!" He continued laughing until he was clutching at aching sides and he laughed silently with tears streaming down his face.
He took a seat on the fifth rock and tried to retain his breathing. Arthur sat in shock. The other three didn't even know what to make of the situation. The arrival was not menacing-looking in the least. In fact, he was a kid — definitely younger than all of them, but not a child. Despite a charming smile, he was quite dorky and round-faced. One might've mistook him for chubby without seeing his athletic physique.
The spritely young man slapped his knee and let out one last wild kahoot of laughter before wiping his tears with his hand. He hunched down and put his hands on his knees. When no one said anything, he volunteered. "You guys are the ones, right? The ones requested in the letter? Oh, I guess I forgot." He quickly went and retrieved a single satchel from just within the woods. From it, he pulled a fifth swallow seal letter. He opened it and showed it to Francis, who snatched it out of the boy's hand. The letter contained the same message, the same messy writing, and the same smudged name.
"I don't know what happened. You all must have come before or after me. I was in town, but I couldn't find anyone meeting. Why didn't you wait?" He furrowed his brow at the knight.
"W-we never received a fourth letter from anywhere saying you were coming," Francis said. "Did you send one to Amotoile? Where are you from? Your accent is rather unfamiliar."
"Name's Alfred, and I'm from the northernmost state of Scintillatia," the boy smiled brightly.
"Scintillatia!? That's across the damn bloody sea!" Arthur barked.
"'Tis," Alfred chimed, "A beautiful part of the world. Lots of space, wide open skies, and the people are a lot friendlier than here in this dump. I went into town the other day, and they thought I was a rotten changeling. Do you really live here?"
"I am from Amotoile, yes," Francis said rather crossly. But he wasn't one to judge on first impressions, so he allowed the boy to keep speaking.
"I'm actually a student. North Star Academy for Gifted Fairies. Ever heard of it? I usually get straight As. Probably why they decided to send me here — to challenge me. I'm good friends with the Dean of Magic. He lets me live with him while I'm attending school."
"You're… a fairy," Arthur said slowly. Now that Alfred mentioned it, Arthur could make out sharply pointed ears under the boy's sun-kissed hair. A strange, giddy sensation overtook him. Another wingless fairy joining the Mercs? Perhaps his punishment would be a little less lonely if he could relate to someone. "You're the sea-salt fairy, aren't you? The one the townsfolk mistook for a changeling!"
"Mm?"
"He does have a faint scent of sea-salt," Ivan said. "Oh, yes, this is the fairy I smelled this morning."
Alfred looked at Ivan, amazed. "You're a demon, aren't you?"
"A snow demon, yes."
"Got an earth demon who works as our housekeeper back at the Dean's mansion. His name's Tolys, and he makes the most mouthwatering bars! It's a darn shame, though. He told me the snow demons took over his land a while ago, so he had to come and make a living somewhere warmer."
"Ah, I remember seizing earth demon lands," Ivan said, as if there was no wrong in the story.
Alfred shivered and gave a slight, disgusted look toward the demon, but he quickly forgot about it when he saw the pot of leftovers. "Can I have that, please?" He asked to no one in particular.
"Of course," Francis replied. He took another plate and was about to scoop some when Alfred spoke again.
"Don't bother with plates. Just gimme the whole thing. I watched you guys earlier. You're all full, right? I'll finish it off for you. I've been traveling a lot, 'n I had to find you after I found out you left without me." He piled food in his mouth and kept speaking like it was empty. "I don't know why you didn't get a letter back. Maybe the pigeon got lost. Y'know, pigeons and seabirds are kinna dumb. I'd say eagles are the best for delivering letters."
"Do you like the food?" Yao asked.
The boy swallowed. "It's delicious!" He exclaimed. He straightened his glasses and kept shoveling. Two helpings disappeared, then three, then four. Arthur grimaced and imagined the boy must have had a stomach the size of his head.
"We're glad to know you're not a changeling," Arthur said.
Alfred swallowed a particularly large mouthful. "Of course I'm not! Honestly, I was just asking where to find you, and they threw things at me and swore until I left town entirely. I didn't come back until this morning, and then I found out you'd left. I think the one word I could use to describe them is 'shitfaced'."
"They were drunk," Francis said. "I am Sir Francis Bonnefoy I of Amotoile, a knight. I was investigating that supposed changeling sighting before I joined the other volunteers."
"Mercenaries," Arthur coughed.
"We are not mercenaries! The nerve of these two. Please excuse them. They think the only reason to help the writer is to claim the reward. They don't care about feelings or morals."
"Well, you can count me on your side, then, Francy! I'm helping the writer for the justice this baddy enemy needs to feel! The writer needed a hero, and he's got one! You're lookin' at 'im." Alfred laughed proudly and ran his fingers through his golden hair. A stray chunk stuck up from his part defiantly.
"It is Francis," Francis laughed nervously.
"And what's your name, sir?" Alfred asked Arthur.
"Arthur, Lord Arthur Kirkland of the Isle of Rain. And just to let you know, your recent actions were not tolerated, and I will refuse to work with you if you continue to pull stunts like that."
"Ah, dude, I'm sorry! I didn't know I would scare you so bad! I thought I gave you enough warnings. Sand in your hair and that kinna thing. I guess I'm pretty good at hiding in the shadows, huh?"
"Your flaw was that you thought it was funny to perpetuate your shenanigans to the point of nearly scaring me to death! Can you imagine if I was old or frail? I may have died because of your recklessness."
"Pshh, I wouldn't do it to an old person," Alfred scoffed.
"Then why do it to me?"
"You're not old."
"How do you know?"
"You don't look old. You kinna talk like an old man, though."
Yao snickered quite loudly at that comment, as Arthur was younger than him.
"And what are your names? You never told me," Alfred asked.
"I am Yao," Yao said. "Just Yao."
"And you may call me Ivan," said the demon.
"You all can call me Alfred, Alpha, Al, Starboss, or something like that. My brother calls me Alfie sometimes. And the guys at the Academy call me Buckwheat and Eagle Eyes."
"I will just call you 'Alfred,'" Arthur said. "It's certainly the most formal out of those. And what is your surname? I don't believe you gave one earlier."
"Sur-name?"
"Your House? Your family name? Surely a fairy going to a school like that must come from a discriminating family."
"A family name? I don't have one myself, but I live with the Jonses. Dean Jones. The Dean of Magic."
"You're an orphan?" Francis said, clutching his chest.
"'Fraid so, but it doesn't bother me much. I've been living with the Joneses for so long now. The dean and his wife and children and Tolys are like my family. So if you'd like, call me Alfred Jones."
The frivolous "Alfred Jones," as it turned out, was not tired. He talked for great lengths about the Academy and how he had come to be quite popular among students. The dean commended him in the hallways and gave him friendly pats on the shoulder. In class, he would raise his hand and give not only the answer, but why it was the answer and other information. To Arthur, all this seemed like wild, stretched fabrication.
Then he talked about his homeland of northern Scintillatia. It sounded like a peaceful place, full of eagles and herons and loons. And there were endless forests that stretched for hundreds of miles up into the Northern Wilds. Alfred said he had been to the Northern Wilds, to which Francis replied he had once been a trader in the villages there before becoming a knight. Alfred seemed to show a great amount of surprise to this, though he said it was because he had heard of how great and kind the traders in the region were.
Ivan was the first to retire. He claimed that the fire was proving too hot and offered to put it out before Arthur said he would later. Yao and Francis agreed that now was the time for sleeping, though Arthur still had questions for the fifth member of the Mercs.
"S'pose we should go to bed too, huh?" Alfred said amicably when they were alone. "Supper was great. I'm going to like hanging around with those guys if they keep making food like that."
"Alfred, what's your favorite magical subject to study?" Arthur asked.
"Hm? Oh, shooting awesome energy beams."
"Really? Perhaps tomorrow you could demonstrate."
"I dunno. There's one I've been working on, but it's not polished."
"You're all talk, Alfred. What's your real drive? What's something you're good at?"
Alfred sat still for a moment. "I told you, there are a lot of things I'm good at! And I can shoot a beam. I wouldn't be an ace student for nothing, but I suppose… Oh yeah! Illusions are my best subject. Making people see things they aren't really seeing. The art of deception."
"Illusions, really? Perhaps you could tell me some secrets. I'm a magician, and I'm terrible when trying to hide my ears in human lands, though I do dislike to admit it."
Alfred's eyes brightened. "Once, as a prank, I made Tolys think there was a spot he hadn't swept, and when he swept it, I made him think a different spot hadn't been swept. It was funny for about fifteen minutes before he caught me and told me to go study. I told him I was studying, and he just smiled and gave me the broom to finish the sweeping myself. Funny man, that Tolys. He said that he once had a liking for the demon king's sister."
"That Dean must be a wonderful man for letting you board with him."
"He sure is. I'd been staying with a family down in the Bluffs, and when I got accepted at the Academy, the dean saw how talented I was and let me right in. His wife even knit a cap for me. I think I brought it with." Alfred dug around in his satchel and found a sky-blue beanie, almost the same color as his eyes. "I like to pack lightly. I'm a bit of an outdoorsman. My brother and I both are, though that's no surprise with where we're from. He's staying with a family way up north. I told him to at least apply for the Academy, but he's just no good with magic. Never has been. He'd rather shoot a bow and learn how to skin a beaver than learn spells. But I mean, come on! Who doesn't wanna learn magic!?"
"Not everyone has the talent or the interest. I'm not sure whether to despise you for frightening me or respect you for knowing about my lacking talent."
"You probably want to respect me," Alfred smiled. Arthur flashed a half smile back.
Silly and frivolous and conceited. They were a new combination of traits in the group. Whether Alfred would be useful in speeding up the process of preventing the dark wizard from getting the amulet, Arthur had yet to see. Truthfully, he was more interested in Alfred than not. His ability to speak with great enthusiasm about many things was intriguing, but also concerning.
Those stories about being popular among students at the Academy were obviously a little exaggerated. Arthur pushed those thoughts aside. Alfred was trying to puff up his feathers and appear bigger than he really was. He was young and proud like Arthur had been in University. Naturally, there had to be some legroom for exaggeration. Alfred was in no danger of revealing that he was a bad student as the Academy was across the sea. And Arthur didn't doubt that Alfred was talented. His eyes had the glittering, star-like sheen of an adept.
Still, Arthur had to make absolutely sure that Alfred was one to be trusted. With the others, it was simple. Yao's childlike interest and Francis' fear made them obviously mundane and clueless about magic. Ivan, no doubt, could be trusted as a true demon. Alfred, however, was a wingless fairy. Either he could be an ally, or truly be a changeling trying to deceive them. The fear was justifiable, was it not?
A quick look in his satchel wouldn't hurt.
"I'm ready to retire, Alfred," Arthur said. "I'm not sure how the day was for you, but for the rest of us, it was full of strenuous walking."
"You must not be in very good shape if you just walked on that trail over there. It's so flat, you could pour maple syrup on it."
Arthur cocked an eyebrow at the younger. "Well, I'd like to see you try and leave us in the dust," he said.
"You can't be too slow. If the enemy's brother is making that fairy walk, he'd have to drag his wings behind them, and I know for a fact that those things are heavier than they look. If we travel faster than them, we'll catch up in no time. I'll even carry Shorty on my back for a bit."
"Yao?"
"Is that his name? That's a funny one. And what about you? You're Artie."
"Actually, my brothers call me Artie, and I'm not necessarily on good terms with them, so if you'd kindly refrain from calling me that, I would be most grateful."
"Yep. You talk like an old man," Alfred laughed as he took his satchel and went inside the cabin. "Say gonna once in awhile. I dare you."
Realizing that Alfred taking the cabin would leave no beds left for Arthur, he slyly offered to allow his blankets for the new arrival to use. Arthur said that the previous night, he'd had no bed to sleep in, so rotating who had what would be fair. Alfred kindly obliged and crafted for himself an even better nest than Arthur had. It was round with steep sides like a bird's, and he curled up in the center of it. Arthur doubted that he could be comfortable sleeping in that.
Then, when he was absolutely sure everyone was asleep, Arthur crept out of bed and took Alfred's satchel. The moon shone through the cracks in the cabin's roof to give light. The contents of the bag were slim. Besides the knit cap, there was a little badge of the Academy's coat of arms, a pair of leather gloves, the swallow seal letter and Amotoile's letter, two pocket mirrors, another unopened letter with a seal of the Academy's coat of arms, and a large book which took up most of the space. Arthur took out the book and began flipping. The pages were blank and reserved for drawings and notes. Some were filled with basic sketches of eagles and hawks. The more peculiar ones were vastly detailed technical drawings analyzing things like how an eagle's tail moved for different wind directions and how sharp the hook on its beak was. An avid birdwatcher, Arthur thought, perhaps he hopes to see new species here to add to this collection.
Arthur soon became bored with the sketchbook and took out the unopened letter. He picked at the wax seal. It could be reapplied later by sticking it. His conscience raged with logic. If the letter was written by someone at the Academy, and it hadn't been opened by Alfred, whom was it for? Nothing was written on the outside. Could it be for the Mercs? And if so, as the cleverest of the Mercs, wasn't it his right to know what the letter said? Perhaps Alfred had forgotten to give it to them earlier. Oh, but what if it was not for the Mercs? It could be a letter specifically for Alfred that he had just forgotten to read. Or it could have been a letter Alfred was supposed to deliver to someone else, but his scatterbrained personality brought his attention elsewhere. Regardless, there was no one watching Arthur, so he picked at the seal and started peeling it off.
"Why are you looking through his things?" Came a sharp voice. Arthur looked to see Yao leaning over the bed above him.
"I, um — this fell out and I was trying to put it back in."
"Why did you take the bag back to the bed with you?"
"He set it over here."
"By your bed? Look, Arthur, I am fine with him as long as he does not boss me around. He seems like a good, trustworthy boy. Be a gentleman and give him privacy."
Arthur, pale pink in the moonlight, put the letter back in the bag and set it back near Alfred's nest. The boy had rolled over. Some of his hair shifted to reveal a long, silvery scar wrapping around the back of his neck.
Arthur had a good dream that night about forest creatures coming to visit him at the manor to keep him company. They even set up an impenetrable force field around the estate so the Council members and his brothers could not come in. One creature was a perky little mint-colored rabbit with feathered wings that hovered in the air and spoke with a squeaky voice. There were whinnying unicorns and tiny wyverns and broom-wielding brownies and pointy-eared pixies the size of his pinky. They sang so sweetly that Arthur felt the drip of tears. No one could ever sing that pretty in real life, not even Gareth. And most definitely not… him.
He was so engrossed in his dream that he ignored Francis' saccharine wake-up call. Arthur wanted to have one of those pleasant mornings where he slept in and felt his blood rushing calmly through him.
He ended up missing breakfast.
Alfred ate all of his strawberry crêpes.