Chapter 3
Andy's fingers twined behind his back constantly, his cheeks aching from the smile plastered on his lips for the past hour. His nose wrinkled at the overwhelming waves of perfume and cologne radiating from the royal gentries and representatives in the throne. The foreign flutters of sweetness and spices quickly morphed into a mesh of scents that made his stomach curdle. Yet, the boy kept the smile on his lips despite the twitch in his fingers to cup his nose in hand.
Appearances are everything. He told his self. Appearances are everything.
His gaze flittered over the thick mounds of gowns and suits that moved throughout the ball room, either hovering over the country's king or simply basking in the glow of the faint orchestra playing on the side. He felt his eye twitch.
This isn't meeting. And it's far from a ball. Andy groaned to his self. This is an abomination of kissing up!
Andy gently tugged at the cloth at his collar, relishing at the cool air that slipped onto the patch of exposed skin. Suddenly, he felt an elbow prodding at his rib cage, causing him to flinch. He looked up to see Ingvar glaring at him softly as he nodded ahead of him. Andy whipped his head towards the crowd of gentries engulfing Elias and scurried behind, merely trailing after the edge of his brother's cape.
Am I participating or playing coat of arms?
"—I understand that you believe that the water supply could be contaminated Lady Lenore, however, accusing the Draugen Clan is extremely risky." Andy caught the last snippet of Elias's explanation when he finally caught up with him.
"Yes, but—" A woman with blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun started.
"What my wife is trying to say, your grace, is that in the case of the Draugen being the culprits," the man at her side cut in, shooting her a dirty glare, "we would greatly appreciate it if you would be willing to step in."
Elias quirked a brow, his gaze flicking between the French gentry and his wife, with a still face until he cleared his throat.
"Of course, Arendelle would be more than willing to provide you with as much cleansed water to your people as we can, but I will not risk the lives of my people because of an accusation without further evidence." The gentry's mustache wrinkled, hiding the quite snarl of his lips, while the Lady Lenore looked off to the side, fiddling with a loose string of her glove.
"But, your majesty," the gentry stuttered, dragging a thick tongue over his lips. "You yourself know how these matters occur. First it's little things of sabotage, then it's the riots, and the next thing you know orphans are being slaughtered and sold."
"Dear, I think—" Lady Lenore placed a hand on the gentry's shoulder only for the man to tear his arm from her grasp.
"I came to you for this assistance my lord, for I knew you of all people would understand the signs. These are the signs of a bloody war that's knocking on our doorstep."
"Louis, please," Lady Lenore pleaded, her small eyes flicking at the fellow gentries starting to turn an open ear towards their conversation. Yet, the gentry pressed on.
"A war I'm prepared to face!" the gentry exclaimed, stamping his boot onto the marble floor.
Elias sighed, his face as still as the sky as he calmly started, "I understand that Lord Louis. I really do. But without proof of a threat at the moment, I cannot and will not send any of my men to be engulfed into a blind gamble."
"B-blind gamble?" Lord Louis stuttered, his cheeks growing red and puffy as he stomped his foot again. "You've been in war yourself. Twice need I remind you while you were still sucking on your mother's tit. What's the point of fighting if you don't even bother using those god damned powers—"
"Louis!" Lady Lenore swatted at her husband's arm, anxiously watching the creases of Elias's brows and mouth.
A violin bow screeched over the strings and froze, the orchestra and gentries falling silent as they watched their king. Andy gulped heavily. Everyone knew and shuddered at the mere mention of the Grimm and Mist Haven wars. The military was growing severely thin as corpses, orcs, and madmen outnumbered their forces, making kingdoms become desperate for men to fill their flanks to have enough time to flee themselves. That is until that desperation fell from men to boys. One of those boys being the man whose silence made the room wait in agony.
With wind of Arendelle's future king possessing an extraordinary power unlike any other, hundreds of kingdoms begged for him to protect their people. And with barely a voice at 13 and even less of one at 15, what choice did the boy have. The gods the people of Arendelle prayed to over an agonizing year and another two years watched over the boy to become the man standing in the ball room at that moment. Yet, no one dared mention the wars around the king. It was a chapter meant to be closed unless told otherwise. And now the chapter was ripped from its hinges and fluttering in front of the man's face.
Andy's eyes trailed over towards Elias, watching the dimmest twitch of his jaw as he let out a sigh. The faint scar running from the corner of his eye down to the tip of his chin swelled to life as Elias shook his head.
What other scars did he get from those wars? Andy wondered.
Then again, he gulped, did he really want to know?
Elias blinked down at the gentry, who had realized the boundaries he had crossed and had shrunk back against his wife, with a thin line pulling at his lips. His voice steadied into an eerie calm as he brushed a lock of hair behind his ear and looked towards Lady Lenore. "Lady Lenore, you love to dance don't you?"
Lady Lenore flinched, snapping her gaze to Elias's with a quiet mutter of yes. Elias's lips pulled into a soft smile.
"You remember my younger brother, yes?" "Elias glanced over his shoulder at Andy, beckoning him closer with a sway of his head. Andy blinked, quickly stumbling behind Elias. Lady Lenore nodded, barely sparing a glance at the boy before Elias continued. "You have to forgive me, I'm quite a horrid dancer, but my brother on the hand is a prodigy." Andy gawked at him, ready to open his mouth to retort before the elder's ice, blue eyes twinkled down on him. "Andy, why don't you give Lady Lenore a dance, hmm? I'm sure she would appreciate a break from these…heavy subjects."
"O-of course," Andy shook his self out of his daze, offering his arm to woman with a nod, "My Lady?"
Lady Lenore tentatively grasped onto the boy's arm as the small orchestra's quiet music slowly thawed the ball room's thick atmosphere. Elias watched as Andy and Lady Lenore disappeared among the throng of other gentries before glancing down at Lord Louis again. His mouth fell into a small frown as he grasped a champagne flute from a server. After nodding his thanks to the man, he eyed the intricate glass in his hand, barely noting Lord Louis's presence.
"Lord Louis," he said, eyes roaming over the bubbling gold grasping along the edges of the glass. "Did you know that I was barely 13 when I killed my first man?" The man squirmed in his spot, running his fingers over his thinning hair as he nodded.
"I heard rumors."
"Rumors." Elias chuckled. "If only they stayed that way." He brought the glass down from his gaze and stared at the man. "My lord, I know the horrors war brings as well as you do. How it corrodes the innocence of man into a broken shell of his former self and I, too, notice the signs of the Draugen Clan bearing its teeth at the rest of the world. However," Elias stepped forward, towering over the man as his voice dropped into a frail—venomous whisper, "I won't risk innocent lives of my country without their say as well as ensuring their protection. War makes a monster out of all us."
"But," the lord gulped, "I didn't mean to imply…you're by no means—"
"Oh, I am Louis. I am." Elias chuckled absentmindedly. "I just do a better job keeping my fangs hidden than others." The gentry gulped, glancing at the pale mop of wife in the crowd, guilt prickling in his stomach, before returning to the king's narrowed glare. "Now, unless you wish to discuss saving your people from mercury poisoning in their wells, there is nothing left to speak of."
Elias pressed the champagne flute into the other's sweat slicked palms, turning on his heel before the man stuttered, "Wait!" Elias froze, casting a glance over his shoulder as the man said, "I…my people need fresh water, my king."
Elias's frown slowly faded into a smile as he turned back and patted the gentry's shoulder.
"Of course. We'll work together on the process shipping and purifying methods as soon as possible, but for now," he tapped the glass. "Please, enjoy the rest of the meeting." Elias moved away from the gentry, his thin, almost translucent edge of his cape flapping at his heels.
As the man was thrown into another throng of issues—coincidentally all revolving around the Draugen—a hand brushed against Lord Louis's shoulder.
"Pleasant evening, isn't it?" Lord Louis jumped, turning around to be greeted by a thin smile.
Lord Louis raised an eyebrow as he tapped the rim of the glass against his lips. "Oh, Sir Ingvar, y-yes a pleasant evening it is."
Ingvar chuckled lowly, his pale hair swaying against his back, and nodded in Elias's direction. "I hope your conversation turned out well."
"Yes it did. Please excuse me for that little scene earlier. Your nephew has…quite a way of persuading others. You taught him well."
"Oh, no. He learned that his self. I was just there to pick up the pieces and provide him with the best." Ingvar grinned sheepishly, crinkling the frail wrinkles around his eyes. He soon tilted his head to the side, the grin slimming into a frown ever so slightly. "You've been in combat yourself haven't you, Lord?" Lord Louis nodded, blinking curiously. "But have you've ever seen him in combat? I was only able to see him in one battle before he had to part, but there is such a tragic beauty to how he fights. To bring him into battle is to sentence every last morsel of opposition to a fate worse than death, so I've heard from other soldiers who've seen him at closer range."
"Is that so?" Lord Louis asked, eyeing the king listening intently to a princess regent. "Well, it all turned out right in the end didn't it? He stopped two wars and lived to tell the tale."
"Yes, he did. Which is why," Ingvar started, snatching a champagne flute of his own in hand. "It was quite risky for you to reopen scars." Lord Louis fought the urge to glance back up at Elias again, finally swigging the champagne from his glass and looked back at the former king beside him. "Ready to make him turn against you."
"But, he didn't. He has enough feeling left not to do that."
Ingvar hummed at that, moving away from Lord Louis for a moment before looking back at him. "You know he killed his first man at 13, yes?"
"I know," Lord Louis retorted with a roll of his eyes. "He told me that just now."
"He didn't mention how he did it?"
Lord Louis shook his head as a ghost of a smile turned grimace crossed the other gentry's features. "Let's just say that by the end of the battle, the poor soul didn't need his vocal chords or brain anymore."
Andy's hand trembled around the silken violet around the small of Lady Lenore's back as they slowly waltzed in a small circle of dancers. His eyes constantly glanced down at his feet, then back up at the woman as she drawled on with another tale of her visits to foreign lands.
One, two, look up. One, two, look up, Andy told his self with each step, careful not to snag his boot onto the glittering hem of her dress.
"And would you believe that the native chased me for my hand all the back to my ship. Alas, 'it wasn't meant to be' I told him as I pulled my hand from his grasp, for—would you believe it—Louis flies down from the masts and battled the native with his sword, knocking the poor thing into the water." Lenore exclaimed. "Oh, it was all so terribly romantic!"
"Of course." Andy nodded, only catching snippets of what she said as he continued to monitor his steps. A chuckle rumbled from Lenore's throat, the heavy amethyst gem laced upon her jugular as he looked up only to wince. A dark mauve bruise slithered from the top of her bodice to tickle just below the broach around her neck. Andy fought the urge to glance back at her husband and mumbled, "Romantic."
Lady Lenore shook her head, dusting Andy's vest with fractals of powder and tilted her head at him. His stomach twisted at the thin, blue veins throbbing painfully at her temple where her hair was tightly pulled back until she spoke again.
"You must feel so lucky to have a man such as the king as your brother." She said.
"Yes," Andy replied, "lucky, me."
"Well, since we're well acquainted now Andrew—"
"It's Anders actually."
"—you must tell me, and don't leave out any details," she leaned closer towards him, causing him to stumble back slightly. The sickly stench of flowers made the boy's eyes water, fighting back the urge to stare at the fleshy lips stark against the woman's pale face. "Has our king been having any burning desires as of late?"
Andy arched an eyebrow at her. "I beg your pardon."
"Oh, you know boy," she said swatting at his arm lightly. "What kind of women does he have a strong interest in?"
Andy blinked, the question slowly sinking in until he flinched. The two stumbled back, bumping into another couple dancing before he regained his footing. He swallowed thickly.
Elias and women? The two words tasted foreign in his mouth. In fact the idea never dawned on him that one day an heir would have to be produced at some point. He shuddered, the words crossing between sour and bitter.
"I'm sorry, but I really don't know." He said. "My bro—king seems to be too busy to worry about…romance."
Is it even legal to put Elias and romance in the same sentence? He pondered to his self.
Lenore snorted, "Oh, I know that! Men never have time for romance and chivalry of the sorts, in fact neither do women. Romance has lost its place in the world, but I digress."Andy blinked at the woman, before she continued. "Surely your king must be stressed and have some sorts of relief, hmm? What better way to kill two birds with one stone with a wife."
Andy grimaced at the thought, quickly batting the bubbling images from his mind. "I'm sorry, but I truly doubt Eli—the king would want to venture into that territory right now. He's quite serious about that sort of thing and would rather wait."
Lenore's teasing smirk twisted into a frown as she shrugged. "I suppose you're right. You can't rush these things to early, you know. However," her lips brushed against his ear, "I heard that there's a proposal brewing right now as we speak. In fact, it could be announced later tonight."
Andy froze, Lenore stumbling over his boots and crashing against his chest.
"He…never told me anything about that." He murmured.
"Like you said, he was probably too busy ruling and what not." Lenore said, straightening the folds of her dress as the music came to an end. She gave him a small curtsy. "If you excuse me Andrew, I have some other gentries to speak to, but I'll look for you for the next dance."
Andy nodded with a sheepish grin, watching the overgrown dress bop through the crowd while wiping the side of his ear. He glanced at the thick pink residue from her lipstick crumble in his fingers and frowned. "It's Anders."
Looking around in the sea of gentries and politics, Andy let out a breath as he moved through the crowd towards the balcony. Drawing the doors closed behind him, Andy leaned against the balcony with a groan.
"Wars, politics, marriage…I'm surprised no one brought up any famines while they were at it." Andy mumbled into his palm.
He glanced up at the darkness devouring the sky, watching the crest of the moon slice through the night as it drizzled its stars down upon them. A soft smile crept across his lips. "The moon is lovely tonight," he sighed, pressing his weight against the stone railing. His smile soon melted into a pout as Georg's words before they entered the castle echoed in the back of his mind.
"My younger sister and I watched the moon every festival." Georg smiled. "Maybe you and the king could during the meeting."
Andy's hand clenched around the railing at the thought, while Lady Lenore's words twisted his insides into knots. A shudder raced down Andy's spine until a sharp burn pinched his cheek. He yelped, falling back from the railing as he looked down at the garden below. Another burn pinched the other side of his cheek, causing him to squint at the ground. A small pebble wobbled back and forth along the ground while a hissing sound pierced the air.
"Down here, Prince Clueless!" Andy snapped his gaze over the railing, peering through the thick bushes to find a figure waving up at him.
A grin roused over his lips as he whispered, "At least I'm a prince, Beastie."
The figure leapt over the bushes as the thin moonlight washed over her head, making her straggly, blonde hair seem like a broken halo. She tilted her chin up at him with a smirk.
"You look like you need an escape," she said.
"You have no idea!" Andy groaned.
She clucked her tongue, jerking a knapsack over her shoulder. "Then come on."
"What?"
"I mean get your ass down here so we can go to the festival. You can just stay there for a couple of hours then slip back into the meeting like you weren't even gone." Andy gawked at the blonde, shaking his head before she held up the knapsack. "I got a disguise right here for you, so don't bother whining."
"Kristjana, this is my first meeting. If Elias—no, if Ingvar knows I'm not there, I'd be lucky to even have a social life with a coat of arms." Andy exclaimed, running a hand through his hair.
Kristjana blew a strand of hair from her face, turning on her heel. "I just said to come on if you really needed to." She stomped along the winding path in the garden, leaving behind a trail of twigs and crumbled flowers as she called back, "And here I thought you wanted to spend some time with me when you have so little already."
"I'm said was sorry last time. I didn't mean to leave you in the boat for an hour, I had a lesson."
"It was three hours, you dope!" Kristjana snarled, continuing her walk. "It's such a shame though that you'll miss out on festival. The bakery was giving away krumkake, the bar was giving out free mugs of pear cider, oh, and you won't believe what the autumn dance they—" She trailed off at the crash behind her. She whipped her head back to find that Andy was gone from the balcony while a plume of leaves erupted in the air.
She raced over towards the bush in front of the balcony, pulling back thick branches to find Andy lodged in the center of the bush. Twigs made minuscule cuts through his suit while a small crown of leaves littered his hair as he gave her a sheepish grin, groaning, "You had me at krumkake."
A/N: Warm hugs for readers!
