A.N.: Phrases and sentences in italics imply a language other than Crodinian is being used (eg. Dotriban, Thursaunian, etc.).
Chapter 9: His Net
"Repeat after me: thank…you."
"Fank you…?"
"Almost. Thank you."
"Thank you."
"Yes. That's good, Leon. Let me hear it again."
"Thank you."
"He learns fast." Across the carriage, the Shadow is observing his brother teaching his pet some Thursaunian. The language has roots similar to northern Dotriban dialects, making it easy for the prince to pick up in his younger years. For an Altorienese to pick it up, however, is a different matter. The tones are lacking, and there are certain enunciations that do not fall in Crodinian or Altorienese words. For now, the prince is teaching his pet the basics in the case he needs to use them. They have been practicing since they left the inn after breakfast.
"Leon has a bit of an accent, but it's not that noticeable," the prince smiles, stroking his pet's hair as a form of reward.
The Shadow's lips give a tug. "I'll say. Even you were having a hard time learning Thursaunian. It took you, what, six months to rid you of your accent?"
The prince scoffs. "Don't tease me, brother. I'd been practicing Tabrinish before that. You remember."
"Ah, how thoughtless of me," his brother subtly teases him. "Continue. Your lessons are going well."
Given permission, the prince and his pet continue to recite common Thursaunian phrases for the rest of the way. With the weather being fair, the innkeeper said it would not take more than half a day's worth of traveling to reach the southern resort.
As Thursaunian royalty has it, the "resorts" are nothing shy of small palaces. They are complete with all the adorned arrangements of fanciful guest rooms, galleries, ballrooms, enormous gardens, and private lake structures and pastures built for a feeling of solitude and tranquility. In the midst of the changing seasons, the king and his wife often travel between west and east to attend to affairs and enjoy the most of their alliance. Lukas suspects they will not be able to have an audience with the king this time around, but they may be able to meet some familiar faces, so he says.
Regardless of whom they will be meeting, the prince instructs his pet to be on his best behavior. In foreign territories, they are not only representing their positions of royalty but the common face of Crodinia as well. With that mentality in mind, the prince is sure to teach his pet as many polite phrases and proper responses to questions as he can.
As the innkeeper predicted, the sun has not yet fallen over the Thursaunian mountains when the southern resort comes into view. At the end of a winding pathway sloping down is a grand "small" resort situated on an island in the center of a lake. The scenery looks too breath-taking to be created by nature, as the island is leveled at a remarkably pristine angle and structured just right for heavy construction. Leading out to the back is what looks like a canyon from a crack in the mountains. To where it goes, the prince cannot see, as the southern resort bars his view. Complimenting the cool colors of the landscape, the roof of the resort is painted a deep indigo with walls white as marble and shutters and doors coated an ebony black. It is nothing short of beautiful.
"We're going to be staying here?" he asks, barely being able to conceal his excitement.
He can hear his brother smiling. "Yes, Emil. It's here we will be conducting business. Try not to get too carried away. We are still representatives of Crodinia, after all."
"Yes, brother," the prince replies, though he does not sound as genuine in his response. He wonders if they will be given a tour around the resort or even a ride through the lake and beyond the canyon. True, he knows he should not get his hopes up too much, but his childlike desires are still strong. If only he had been but two years younger, he hopelessly wishes and continues to gaze upon their destination until the carriage reaches it.
At the bottom of the winding road, an attendant positioned in front of a team of servants is already positioned in the front, ready to greet the arriving guests. The coachman helps the brothers and Leon out, to which the attendant welcomes them. "Welcome, to the southern resort, Your Highness, Lukas Bondevik of the Kingdom of Crodinia and to Prince Emil of the Kingdom of Crodinia. We hope you had a safe journey getting here and wish nothing but the best time here in the Alliance of Thursaunia."
"Thank you," the Shadow thanks him a Thursaunian tongue. "You may instruct your men to help with the luggage. Show the horses to the stables once you park the carriages, and show my men to the dining area and their rooms. I take it they're more exhausted than anyone here, and they deserve the rest as soon as possible."
"Will do, Your Highness," the attendant bows and proceeds to give orders to his servants in Thursaunian. In the meantime, a steward leads the Shadow, the prince, and the Altorienese pet past the foyer and out into the veranda where refreshments are prepared. "Please enjoy yourselves until your hosts return. I will be here to provide any assistance at any time."
The prince's pet is already staring at the pile of spice cakes topped with frosting while Lukas asks of their hosts' whereabouts.
The steward clears his throat as if meaning to hide something. "Forgive the inconvenience, Your Highness, but I'm afraid they are, how you shall say, out for a tea party."
Lukas raises his eyebrows just slightly. "Then why have refreshments for us only?"
Almost uncomfortably, the steward replies, "The tea party they are attending is not one that particularly calls for a proper audience. In any case, they will be returning to join you shortly, I can assure you."
Deciding that the steward has had enough, the Shadow dismisses their temporary host and gestures for his brother to take a seat. "Sit, Emil. You must be hungry."
"There are so many sweets…" the prince mumbles as he takes a seat across from his brother. He immediately takes a dainty porcelain plate with a dainty laced napkin and daintily stacks it with spice cakes. He hands this off to Leon before deciding what to help himself to first.
Lukas rolls his eyes. "Roderich always loves sweets, but we're not seeing him today."
"Do you know who, then, brother?"
He smiles. "I think if you search through your memories, you might have an idea."
"Search my memories?" the prince echoes in slight confusion. "I've not been here before. Is it someone I know?"
"Oh, you'll see." Lukas silences himself as he takes a bite of a chocolate pudding roll. He makes a face as he swallows the first helping and goes for some tea. "Gods, even the tea is sweet," he mutters.
The prince chuckles and samples a chocolate-covered wafer. The amount of chocolate available is astounding, considering shipments have to be taken in from as far as Laciport and processed in a separate facility. There are no chocolate stores in Crodinia, but the acquired taste has not yet reached a frenzy among the common folk—yet.
The prince does not much care for the taste of chocolate, but he will not pass up on an opportunity to try some if only because of the rarity back home. He can see his pet can appreciate it, too, watching him politely snack on chocolate wafer after chocolate wafer.
It does not take long for the three guests to finish their refreshments, and it does not take long for their hosts to return. Riding in on horses, they come from the parting mountain road and dismount at the resort gates. The prince sees an attendant take their horses away, and by this time, he can make out two similarly dressed people approaching them. Both sport shortly cut blonde hair with ends that fluff out like golden dandelion flowers. Both have the same shade of green eyes with a tint of teal, a rich and regal color that accentuates the pair's appearance, though it cannot mask their obvious youth. Had it not been for the young man being slightly taller, the prince might have thought they were twins. Closer yet, he sees that the shorter one, barely looking older than fourteen, wears a satin ribbon in her hair. It is not until they leave the sun's glare that the silhouettes of their faces dissolve, revealing themselves to their guests.
"Hey. Long time, no see," the young man says in a casual tone of Thursaunian unlike that of most commoners.
"Likewise," Lukas responds with a polite smile. "You've both grown up since I last saw you."
The young man presses his lips together and means to speak when the girl shies away and hides behind him. "Hey, hey, what'd I say about being shy?" the prince hears him whispering. "You know these two. You played with Emil when you were younger, remember?"
Hearing his name, the prince's ears perk up, and he stares long and hard at the girl. "Lili?" he suddenly recalls aloud. "Lili, is that you?"
Sighing, the young man embarrassingly scratches his head. "You'll have to excuse my sister. She's at that age."
The prince then recognizes the brother. "Vash…! It's been so long since I've seen you two, I couldn't remember. I'm sorry—"
"No, it's fine," he cuts him off. He appears to be more focused on his sister who has still yet to properly greet them. After failing to coax her into saying something, he gives up. "She's always been like this. I'll say it for her, then: welcome to the southern resort."
"Thank you, Vash," the prince's brother continues to smile. "And no need to worry about your sister. My brother can still be like that sometimes."
"No need to bring that up, Lukas," the prince grumbles in Crodinian.
When the siblings approach the veranda, it is then that Vash notices the extra guest. "Who's this?"he asks, pointing at Leon. His speech is still informal but it has since transitioned to a cautious tone. He is even speaking Crodinian.
Lukas immediately steps in. "He's my brother's pet."
Vash wrinkles his nose. "He's Altorienese."
"No, he's a pet. He is under my brother's control. You will not have to worry about anything."
It is clear that Vash does not welcome the new face. The prince remembers the hard-faced Thursaunian having a hard time warming up to strangers, and if it means protecting his sister along the way, he will not hesitate to interfere. It seems not much has changed in eight years.
"Why even bring him along?"
"My brother wanted to let him see the world. He enjoys his companionship."
"But still, this is…Well, the Dotribans let him through, I suppose,"Vash fortunately acknowledges after a while. "Guess that counts for something."
"Glad you noticed," Lukas smiles. The entire time he speaks, the prince notices how casually he talks. He does not use overly formal diction when speaking with those around his royal standing. It is interesting how that works out. Thinking about it, he has often found that most of the kings address each other by their first name and nicknames, sometimes even downright insulting them, though they have never minded.
"Thank you for having us, Vash, Lili," the prince quickly addresses before the opportunity is lost.
"It's just business," Vash shrugs. His sister does not say anything, though she is poking her head from behind out to look at the curious Altorienese pet. "Anyway, do you want me to show you around? We've got some time before dinner."
"Didn't you just have tea?" Lukas chuckles.
Vash scrunches his face and drops the subject, instead leading the guests and his sister back into the resort to commence the tour.
At some point, Vash manages to shake his sister off his back and let the prince and his pet take care of her. While discussing business matters, the prince gets an opportunity to finally speak with her.
"Lili, I'm sorry I didn't recognize you at first," he apologizes. "You cut your hair so short. It's…different."
Blushing, the shy girl looks his way just slightly. Lili's ability to maintain eye contact does not maintain itself very well; however the prince tries his best to make her feel at ease.
"Do you think it looks…good?" she asks in Crodinian. Her accent is about as rough as the prince's ability to speak Thursaunian, so he does not think ill of her; additionally, she is obviously nervous around him, only adding to mispronunciations here and there. Wondering if her speaking Crodinian is a hint at wanting to practice, the prince answers back in his native tongue.
"It looks very nice," he politely smiles. "I'm guessing it's easier to brush?"
"Y-Yes…" Lili coyly smiles back. Her wavering eyes look in Leon's direction, and she inquires about him. "Your brother said he is…pet? What is 'pet?'"
The prince searches for the correct word to translate into Thursaunian. He has never learned the word, himself, so he needs to find a way to properly explain it to her. "He is—Leon is mine. He belongs to me."
Lili curiously blinks, unsure if she understands him correctly. "Like a servant?"
The prince shakes his head. "Like a dog or cat."
This seems to puzzle the girl more than ever. Perhaps it is out of confusion and a need to clarify or perhaps it is because she does not want to offend their foreign listener, but she continues to speak in Thursaunian for the rest of the conversation. "Do you beat him?"
This troubles the prince, and he looks at his precious pet. "I would never do that. He is mine."
"But…he is…" Lili's voice fades. The prince has an idea of what she means to say.
"He is my pet, and that is all he is to me. He is not my friend, not my servant, and not my fool. You would not beat your animals, would you?"
He immediately regrets asking, as Lili withdraws from him and appears to shrink like a mouse. "…My brother would…" She swallows nervously. "I know he was only trying to protect me, but when my dog wouldn't listen or bit me, he would beat it until…"
Sensing the next few words, the prince cut her off before weighing her down with emotion. "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to make you bring that up, Lili. If it makes you feel better, Leon listens to me. I've never needed a reason to beat him, and I don't think I ever would."
Hearing that offers some relief, though she still looks wary about the fact that Leon is Altorienese. "That's good. I'm glad you don't."
"Emil." Vash is calling the prince to the end of the hallway. They have since gone up the stairs onto the second floor of the resort. "I'm going to be showing you where you're going to be staying. You get your own room."
"Oh." The prince takes his pet's hand and brings him along, making sure Lili is not too far behind.
Upon Vash opening the door, the prince can already see the pleasant furnishing of his room. It definitely has a Thursaunian design to it with the warm atmosphere opposed to the frigid regality of his castle. Nearly everything is coated with a light creamy color from the ceilings down to the plush carpet. Mathias might call it too feminine, but for the prince and his understanding of Thursaunian interior design, this is just perfect.
"It's lovely," he tells his hosts, and they smile.
"Enjoy it while you can, Emil," the prince's brother says. "You're not going to be spending too much time in here."
"Er, right." The prince has to remember that he is here on business, not pleasure. Still, knowing he will have this room at the end of the day is an enticing thought to hold onto during his stay in the southern resort.
"And this is your room, Lukas," Vash leads them right across the hallway and opens the door to a similarly decorated room but complete with a light blue theme. It is almost comical the way the colors are suited to the prince and his brother, though neither of them mention it aloud.
"Likewise, it's very beautiful," the prince's brother says, nonetheless, and displays a gratuitous smile.
Vash shrugs. "It's nothing. Just something that comes with the place."
"That's right, this isn't your home," Lukas comments. "Pity, it seems to suit you two. How are things faring back in the west?"
"Fine, I suppose. Father's bank is almost complete. When that happens, there won't be anything to worry about."
"I'd like to hope so."
It is then the prince remembers blurbs of memories from the past, back when he used to play with Lili before the war started. Being born of lesser royalty and barely considered an official prince and princess, Vash and Lili Zwingli were often free to travel on the whims of their father while not having to worry about carrying the weight of the kingdom. As Vash grew older, he started to take up his father's trade and dream of starting a large bank within the western section of Thursaunia, a feat that has still yet to be realized even after his father's untimely death.
During Vash's absence, Lili was often passed around as if from one royal babysitter to another. The prince remembers his family's turn being the last, but those days had been fairly pleasant. While shy in nature, he found it easy to get along with her. She was petite and modest, bearing a love for animals and eager to inquire about the curious events and wonders Crodinia had to offer. It was not until when the war started to gear into motion that Lili was withdrawn from Crodinia and locked into the safety of western Thursaunia. Everyone still remembers that western Thursaunia played no part during the war, and while the east offered troops and financial support, its western counterpart never budged.
After the war, when the Alliance of Thursaunia was officially recognized, the west's banks and coffers were dried to relieve the efforts of the battles and relief efforts as a mean of compensation. It was a devastating blow to the Zwinglis, as not only did it halt their bank's construction, it resulted in Vash and Lili's father overworking himself to a crippling physical state. His final years were spent struggling to keep finances afloat all while putting food on the table. Eastern Thursaunia had bled them dry, and before long, their father finally succumbed, leaving a heavy legacy and mountain of responsibility for Vash to bear.
With time, experience, and some partial financial support from Roderich's and Elizabeta's families, the Zwinglis were able to recover and soon were able to resume construction on their father's bank. Once it finishes, it is claimed to be known as the most secure and strongest bank Thursaunia will have ever known—possibly even to the world. This and more have been accomplished by Vash Zwingli, a prospective and able young man hardly reaching eighteen years of age.
The prince wonders if he can ask Lili what kept her brother going up until now. His legacy? His father? Their future? It cannot be just one singular reason, he thinks, though it is nothing short of remarkable at how a single person can accomplish so much in such short time.
Having been shown to their rooms, Vash continues with the rest of the resort until the sun disappears from the mountains and the servants fill the halls with candlelight.
"It's just about time for dinner," Vash tells everyone. "Perfect timing. We just finished with the last rooms."
"Um…Brother?" All heads turn to see Lili speaking up to her brother for the first time since commencing the tour.
"What is it, Lili?"
While nervously tugging at her dress, his timid sister tugs at her dress. "We haven't shown them the stables."
Her brother raises an eyebrow. "Really, Lili? Can't we show them after we eat? It's been a long day for them."
"But…I guess you're right. I'm sorry…"
Sensing her distress, Lukas turns to Vash. "If you have the time, I wouldn't mind checking out the stables. I've seen your horses. They're very beautiful."
However, having heard from her brother already, Lili does not seem too fond of bringing up the subject again. "It's alright. We can go to dinner instead. I'm…I'm pretty hungry."
Lukas raises an eyebrow. "You're certain, Lili?"
Both the prince and his brother watch as she starts to lean towards her brother until she is within the safety of his back. "I'm certain…"
Vash sighs and rubs her head, much like the way Lukas does to his brother. "Sorry about this," he apologies. "It could take some getting used to. Well, if my sister says she's hungry, and if you're both fine with it, we can just go to the dining room as planned."
"That's fine with me," Lukas speaks with an even smile. The look on his face as he watches Lili cowering behind her brother appears to remind him of his own relationship with his brother. Thinking of this, the prince rolls his eyes and beckons for his pet to come with him.
"Come on, Leon. I'm going to guess you're not allowed at the table, so I'll just bring you some food and take you to my room. Is that fine?"
Like with every time since entering this resort, Leon nods his head. He has not spoken since getting out of the carriage. However he chooses to respond, the prince tells his brother and Vash of this, and they are more than happy to consent.
"Sorry about this, Leon," he apologizes to his pet. "I wish you could eat with us, but I don't want to cause any trouble around Lili and Vash." He knows his pet will not reply here, so he formulates a quick question his pet can silently respond to. "You understand, don't you?"
As he expects, his pet nods with a slight smile, and they then proceed to the dining room. Having already been shown here, the prince is not as startled by its appearance, though it does not cease to fascinate him. The glittering orbs of glass that make up the chandelier in the center casts a rainbow of lights all throughout the room. The tablecloth, laced with intricate flowery patterns, is made of a fine silk only that looks arranged for only the most important of guests. The dinnerware set out is equal in elegance, boasting light but strong ceramic with gold edges and hand-painted floral designs.
Layout aside, the dishes appear just as enticing: roasted lamb with seasoned bulbs and potatoes lie at the center of the table surrounded by dipping sauces and an assortment of breads; crisp coated potatoes and breaded meats sit as smaller courses alongside a savory palette of foods; and complimenting these is a large bowl of fruit still glistening as if freshly picked.
"My gods…" the prince breathes. "It looks lovely."
"Thank you," Vash says. "Please enjoy."
As a sign of politeness, the hosts wait for their guests to eat first. The prince eats as quickly as his manners will allow him to, taking note of each dish and trying to predict what his pet might enjoy the most. He knows Leon is not particularly fond of bland foods and tries to avoid getting too many potatoes. He suspects Leon must be tired of them at this point and will not hesitate to try something new; that is one thing he has at least learned about his pet's eating behavior. After he makes a decent selection, he requests a different plate that might be used for piling food on. The dishes presented to the guests are too small and fancy for someone like Leon to use, and he suspects he will not be allowed to bring it outside of the dining room and kitchen. Once presented with a proper plate, he takes some samples as humbly possible and excuses himself from the table.
"Leon, come quickly," he calls to him from the parlor, as he did not think it best to let him watch the others eat. "I don't want to be gone from the table for too long. I brought you some food."
His pet follows him up the stairs and into his room at the end of the hallway. He opens it and finds it already lit by the servants. His luggage is also in his room at this time, unpacked and organized. The prince finds his pet a spot on the study table and presents him with a handkerchief.
"Try not to make a mess, alright?" he quietly instructs him. "I'll be back as soon as it's time for bed." He kisses Leon on his cheek and strokes his hair for a time before leaving. Just before closing the door, he hears a soft voice calling from behind.
"Thank you, Master."
Smiling, the prince turns around and looks at his pet a final time. "You're welcome, Leon." He closes the door and walks with a quick pace back to the dining area. He has since memorized the route and does not have trouble navigating back. However, before he even exits the parlor, going down the stairs, he hears a loud voice cutting through the tranquility of the atmosphere.
"Give me your best wine! The stronger, the better!"
The prince's heart drops. He knows that voice. It has not left him since his sixteenth birthday. With great trepidation, he makes his way into the dining room and confirms the speaker's identity.
"Y-Your Highness…"
It is Gilbert Beilschmidt.
"Look at that, the little prince's finally arrived!" the Crimson King widely grins. He is sitting in the prince's chair, but none dared to correct him, not even Lukas. "What are you standing there like a ghost for? Sit down!"
Sheepishly, the prince is forced to take a seat in between Lili and Gilbert. Suddenly he is no longer hungry, but the Dotriban king insists they eat.
"What's everyone so worked up about?" he asks while noisily wolfing down on a piece of lamb. "Did someone die?"
Lukas clears his throat. "Fortunately, no, Your Highness," he speaks in his native tongue. The prince does not entirely know the reason behind it, though he does not have to worry about Gilbert misinterpreting him; the Crimson King while arrogant and teaming with terrible manners, is a master in several languages—Crodinian included. "Your sudden arrival tonight just gave us all a shock. We didn't know you were coming here."
"Hrm? I ha' to," Gilbert responds with his mouth full of bread. The prince wants to make a face, seeing as how the glutton is biting off more than he can chew, but he is not in his homeland. He has to better represent himself and Crodinia. "I waf in ve area an' I heard you were pass'ng fru. It wavn't even less van a day's ride, so I though' I'd stopf by."
The Shadow maintains a pristine smile the prince can never hope to match. "That's very thoughtful of you, Your Highness."
Vash, who has a loose grasp of Crodinian, rolls his eyes and speaks in his native language. "Yes, it's a shame we didn't know you were coming here. I might've better prepared the place for you."
"Oh! Mm—" The rest of the diners watch in awe and disgust as the king swallows his food with a loud gulp. "Shadow, don't let this guy here fool you. He's just like Teacup over there."
Lukas blinks. "Roderich, you mean?"
"The very one!" Gilbert snickers and tears into a slice of lamb. "He acts all rich and prissy, but in reality, he's a cheap stinkwad! His house has a bunch of reused crap. Even his underwear's probably the same one he wore last month!"
Having understood enough of his Crodinian insults, Vash's eyes darken, and he stands up from the table. "What are you trying to get at here, Gilbert? Are you saying my habits of saving money aren't good enough for you? Did you forget whose money helped your precious Elizabeta's family during the war?"
The Crimson King's eyes flash a bright red. "Don't bring her into this. I'm talking about you, Zwingli."
Huffing, Vash crosses his arms. "Really? And for what reason did you have to mention my history? Honestly, you don't even have a right to be here, Gilbert. You're trespassing on Thursaunian property. If you have no urgent business to attend to, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave right now."
"On whose account?" Gilbert challenges him, not appearing fazed in the slightest.
"Mine," Vash speaks with defiance. Not once does he falter in front of the king. He does not use sincerity or diplomacy when addressing the Dotriban king, and even in his position, he does not back down from his piercing red-eyed gaze.
The king snickers, amused. "I'd like to see your try, lesser prince. But that would be unfair of me. I know I'd win in a heartbeat at anything you'd name."
From the corner of his eyes, the prince sees his brother growing impatient. He is digging his fingernails into his palms again. "I believe there is something you cannot win against Vash, Your Highness, if I may be so bold as to make that claim," he speaks through a strained yet even tone.
This has the king listening. "And what is that, Shadow?"
"Preservation. The Zwinglis have been long known to keep relics of not only their family traditions and legacies but their physical possessions as well, some dating back to the unification of the Tabrinish islands. With how your family handles possessions, I wouldn't be surprised if you lost a few things along the way."
This takes a blow to Gilbert's ego, as he finally cracks an expression besides one radiating with arrogance. "That's not true. I can prove it. I have the records to show."
With his sharp nails, Lukas combs his blonde hair. "Oh? And pray tell where are these records, Your Highness?"
"At my castle!"
"Well, we're not at your castle, are we? But until we see proof, there's nothing stopping me from being right. There are records within this resort documenting Zwingli possessions and accounting numbers. What do you have to show?"
"A bunch! And I can prove it in three days' time! It'll only take me that long to go fetch my records!"
"I don't see any records." The prince can tell at this point that the Shadow is playing with him.
"Fine! Then I'll go get them right now!" With that, Gilbert stuffs his mouth with some meats and bread, takes a quick drink from the pitcher, itself, and storms out.
While leaving, Lukas speaks just loud enough for the leaving king to hear him. "It's dreadfully dark out there. Are you sure you don't want to try in the morning?"
"I'm the awesome Crimson King! A little darkness doesn't scare me!" And like that, the main door slams on the resort walls, and the entire space falls into a hushed silence. The storm has passed.
Lukas is the one to break the ringing silence after a good minute of sitting in baffler. "Dotribans will be Dotribans. I'd say that could've gone a lot worse. We just have to make sure we get done here within three days so that won't happen again."
Vash wrinkles his brow. "He's going to be back. And if he finds out we've gone our separate ways, he'll track down at least one of us."
"That'll most likely be me, but it's better than having your sister and my brother go through that at the same time."
"True…" Vash looks to Lili who has fallen into compete silence. She does not touch her food while the older brothers continue eating. Having taken notice, Vash speaks to her. "Lili, you should finish your dinner. There's still food on your plate."
His sister shrinks into her chair and lowers her head. The prince cannot see her teal-green eyes beneath her bangs. "I'm not hungry, brother."
"You need to eat," Vash insists, pushing her plate towards her. "The servants took all afternoon preparing it."
"But—"
"Eat!" The table freezes at the sudden outburst from Vash. The prince has long since lost his appetite, and it does not improve at this moment. He watches with pity as Lili forces herself to clean her plate however slowly she makes progress.
Shortly after, Lukas turns to him and speaks in a quiet voice. "Emil, you should finish your meal, too."
He does not need to be told twice. Within minutes, he eats every last crumb on his plate and thanks the Zwingli siblings and the servants for the meal. Like a releasing breath, the tense atmosphere deflates as each diner leaves the table.
After dinner, Vash goes with Lukas to find the appropriate said "records" for Gilbert in the library while their younger siblings are free to go venture into the stables. Lili is more at ease here being surrounded by her horses, and it is here that she is able to open up to the prince alone.
"I like this one," she says as she strokes a white horse with a gray muzzle. "He likes to stop and eat the flowers in the garden. It makes the gardeners upset, but he's very friendly. You can pet his ears if you want." She gestures for the prince to pet him, though he knows to be wary. Not all horses are used to warming up to strangers right away, and he approaches this one with caution. Luckily, this one is as friendly as Lili claims, and he manages to stroke the horse's velvety ears.
"You're right, Lili," he smiles. "He's nice."
The little princess offers a soft smile before leading him to a pile of hay. Here she sits down, and with her thick velvet dress, she does not feel the sharp ends poking her skin as the prince does. He withstands the pain out of politeness for now and listens to what she has to say.
"Emil, what Gilbert said when he was here…He wasn't lying…"
The prince tilts his head. "The part about being able to beat your brother at anything?"
"N-Not that. That I'm not so sure about. But when he brought up my brother's living habits…those were all true."
The prince does not know how to respond to that. He hopes with silence, it is enough of an answer and Lili will respond. And she does.
"After Father passed away, it was so hard, Emil. So many people took advantage of our savings, and they tricked my brother into nearly losing our house. Servants had to be let go. Some of them were friends of mine. We had to sell off all of the animals—even if it was for a few copper pieces. The furniture was sold, too. Brother told me they were all very precious once, but he also told me we had to do what he needed to in order to survive."
She clutches her skirt. Her hands tremble. "I remember being so hungry. There was hardly any food. Anything we managed to save or get from other families was put towards the bank except for what we could afford for food. Brother and Father had so much faith in it that bank; they were willing to sacrifice so many things to keep its construction going. There were times when my brother was wearing the same clothes for weeks. I-I also…"
She cannot continue. Her voice cracking, Lili breaks out in tears. She weeps softly and delicately, the tears hardly blemishing her youthful appearance. The prince, not knowing what to do, watches from a distance. He wants to comfort her, though he does not want her to think it rude of him to touch her.
Fortunately, Lili's tears dry quickly. She takes a handkerchief out to dab her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Emil. I promised myself I wouldn't cry."
"N-No, there's nothing to be sorry about," the prince assures her. His heart is heavy with sympathy. It is no wonder her brother made her finish her dinner. "My brother would tell me it's good to let your emotions loose. It's not healthy to always contain things." A mere part of his statement is true. His brother has since instructed him to keep a proper face as an adult. But Lili is still young; she can be a child for a little while longer.
Her tears gone, Lili recovers and gets up from the haystack. The prince is eager to follow. "Thank you, Emil," she weakly smiles. "I'm happy you could listen to me. It's been very hard these past few years."
"I can only imagine," he sympathetically smiles back. "Thank you for telling me. I'm glad to have listened if it made you feel better."
Lili nods. "It did." She pauses. "Do you think differently of me?"
"No, not at all. You're still the girl I had tea parties and rode horses with. We're still friends, aren't we?"
The smile she gives him appears different. It conceals something, but unlike Lukas' smiles that deceive, Lili's feels like it is holding something back. She does not give the prince a verbal response. Instead, she nods and looks to him as if silently asking him to follow, and he does.
The night is no longer young. Vash and Lili have since retired to their rooms, and Lukas has bid his brother good night. In the prince's washroom, a basin of hot water has been prepared. He takes Leon to this place and washes them both for the morning to come.
"Did you like the food tonight, Leon?" he asks as he takes a washcloth and cleans the back of his neck.
"It was different but good," he comments.
The prince smiles. "It is different, isn't it? They like sweet things. And I remember Lili likes that thing…'cheese fondue' I think it's called."
Suddenly, his pet asks something else of his master. "There was a different voice I heard. Who was it?"
"Hmm? O-Oh, it was…it was Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt. Do you remember him?"
"The one I protected you from," his pet says. The prince's eyes freeze on him. He remembers the Crimson King not for the punishment he dealt or the threat he made, but the fact that he thought only to protect his master. The prince has mixed feelings about this. True, his pet is loyal, but he has to remember that the Dotriban king is not someone to trifle with. On top of that, he and Lukas have a strong feeling he will be showing up to find them sometime during their trip, and when that happens, he will need to make sure Leon is on his best behavior.
"Leon, listen to me." He puts the washcloth down and places his hands on his pet's bare shoulders.
"Yes, Master?" the Altorienese blinks his golden eyes.
He takes a deep breath. "My brother said some things to Gilbert during dinnertime. Those things he said may come back to haunt us—not that it would hurt us, but there's a high chance that we will be seeing him sometime while we're in either Thursaunia or Dotriba. When that happens—if that happens—I want you to be on your best behavior. Do not strike out without permission. Do not say anything unless you are told to. And if I were to get hurt because of him, don't—"
The prince holds himself. "—don't protect me. Protect yourself by not protecting me, Leon. You remember what happened last time. Had it not been for my brother, you would have been killed. We're not in Crodinia anymore. You're not safe. I can only protect you so much." He takes Leon's head and deeply kisses it. "Promise me you will listen to what I have to say."
"Master?" Leon remains staring at him. "Are you afraid of him?"
The prince blinks, stunned. "What?"
"Gilbert. The Crimson King. Are you afraid of him?"
"I…" His voice falters. "I-I don't…Why is this relevant, Leon?"
"I want to know," is his response, and the prince has yet to give him his.
The prince heavily sighs. Staring hard into his Altorienese pet's eyes, he admits his feelings. "…Yes, Leon. Yes, I am afraid of him. But it's not for the same reasons others might be. It's his unpredictability. I can never tell what he's thinking. Beyond that arrogant exterior, there lies a cruel and calculating mind. He's a mad genius, but at the same time, he has extreme loyalty to those he holds dear. I cannot understand him, and for that I fear him. I do not know the point to which he will listen to reason, and if the time comes that he fails to do so with me or even my brother, then I won't know what to do."
"Then I will not be afraid of him."
The prince pauses and stares, baffled by his pet's bold statement. "What? L-Leon, why—? Do you even know what you are even saying?"
"Your brother said it: I will be your shield. It is my purpose to protect you."
"You…?" The prince is at a complete loss for what to think. He barely remembers the statement, himself; it happened so long ago. "Leon…that was before I even taught you Crodinian. My brother told you that on the day we met. How could you have remembered that?"
He shrugs. How typical of him. "I remembered everything I was told if it meant serving my purpose to you."
The prince raises an eyebrow. "Is that really it? You didn't even know what he was saying."
"I remembered it until you taught me the meaning of the words, Master," Leon claims, unwavering. "You taught me well. I am grateful."
"Thank you…?" He is speechless. He has known of Leon's ability to learn Crodinian quickly, but never did he expect him to retain so much. Does he remember other things people said about him before he learned, he wonders?
"Master…" Leon turns around and wraps his fingers over the prince's pale hands. They are still slippery from the soap still bubbling on their skin, yet Leon kisses him regardless. "I love you. Let me protect you if I must—not just from Gilbert but from anything that comes in your way."
"Oh Leon…" The prince wonders if his pet is just being naïve. He surely cannot protect him against everything there is to fear, and what will happen when the time comes that he will no longer be able to do that for him? Leon cannot hope to understand it. It is a hopeless claim for him, but the prince has the feeling he will not back down from it. His heart appears set on his decision.
So, he humors him. "Alright. I'll give you permission. But it can only be on my command. I love you, too, Leon, but I can only protect you so as long as you are under my control."
He is not sure to what his pet means in context of his words. He loses himself when his pet kisses his cheek and nuzzles his hair the same way he has taught him. "I know, Master." His tongue drips with a sweet, sticky voice like honey luring an unsuspecting fly. "I know."