Two: Questions

Mommy and Daddy had been acting strangely all day.

Usually, Asbel didn't pay too much attention to Mommy and Daddy during the day. He was six now, which meant that he really was a big boy, and he could go play wherever he wanted, so long as he didn't leave the manor grounds. Hubert was only five, but so long as Asbel was around, he could play wherever he wanted, too.

Yep, Asbel was in charge of protecting his little brother – which made sense, considering he was the big brother. After all, if he was the big brother, then he was bigger, and stronger, and always right, right? Right!

But anyway, the point was, Asbel usually didn't pay too much attention to Mommy and Daddy during the day, because that was his and Hubert's play time, and play time was serious business. (Unless, of course, he had to sit down for lessons, which he didn't like but put up with, anyway, because Hubert sat in on lessons with him, even though they said he didn't have to.)

But today, Mommy and Daddy were acting weirdly enough to catch even Asbel's attention, and it had all started when Daddy received a letter that morning. He'd torn it open and read it right there in the foyer, something that Asbel noticed as he and Hubert went down the stairs (and he was holding Hubert's hand, just in case, since Hubert was walking down the middle of the stairs instead of holding onto the railings, and Hubert was kind of clumsy). Mommy and Daddy hadn't looked happy, and ever since then, Daddy had stormed around the house looking grumpy and upset, while Mommy seemed close to crying every time Asbel saw her. It was really weird, but every time Asbel tried to ask about it, Mommy just smiled and told him to go play with Hubert. That was how they ended up out in the garden, trying to color on the ground with red colored rocks.

"Hey, Azzy?"

"Hm?" Asbel didn't look up from his drawing of a dinosaur at first, and only did when he was met with silence. "What, Hubert?"

Hubert had his bottom lip poking out, his eyebrows meeting in a very worried expression. He didn't look like he was about to start crying, but he looked close enough that Asbel tossed his rock all the way across the walkway, suddenly a bit worried himself. "What is it? What's wrong? Didja hurt yourself?"

"No." Hubert shook his head, looking down. He hadn't drawn anything, yet, but there were little red scratches on the ground to show that he'd at least tried. "Azzy, why does Mommy keep crying? Why is Daddy mad?"

Asbel loved his little brother. He really did. But Hubert had a tendency to ask a lot of questions, and more than that, he had a tendency to ask hard questions. 'Why is the sky blue?' 'Why is Cheria sick?' 'Why do people keep calling Daddy 'lord'? What does that mean, Azzy?'

And now: 'Why does Mommy keep crying?' 'Why is Daddy mad?'

In these situations, Asbel always did one of two things. He either gave the honest answer, or he made one up.

"I don't know, Hubert." The honest answer. "Maybe they saw something scary." The made up answer.

Yeah, sometimes he just went for broke and did both.

Hubert frowned, looking unsure, and Asbel knew what that look meant; it meant that more questions were waiting just behind Hubert's pouting lips. And sure enough:

"Are you sure? Daddy didn't look scared, he looked mad . . ."

"Well, I don't know," Asbel huffed. Hubert didn't seem satisfied, and instead just kept watching him expectantly, and so Asbel – knowing that this meant that he had to provide an answer, no matter what – stood up and offered a hand to Hubert. "But I bet it has to do with that letter."

"Letter?" Hubert took Asbel's hand, and Asbel tugged his little brother to his feet. Asbel nodded.

"Didn't you see? Dad got a paper this morning. He read it, and then he and Mom started acting funny. I bet the letter's in Dad's study. We could look at it, and see." Asbel wasn't very fond of reading, but he knew the basic gist, and Hubert was starting to read, too. His little brother was a fast learner. Hubert's eyes widened.

"We're not allowed in Daddy's study."

"So? We're big boys, now. We can go in anyway." Asbel grinned. "You in?" Hubert was still frowning, shifting his weight from foot to foot, wringing his fingers together. But Asbel knew Hubert's answer before Hubert himself did, because Hubert was only allowed outside if Asbel was with him, and Asbel was going inside to get the letter.

"I . . . guess . . ."

"Cool! Let's go." Asbel grabbed Hubert's hand and began to pull him toward the house, running, because why not run? Hubert stumbled and ran clumsily along with his brother, but with Asbel holding his hand, there was no way he could fall. And their daddy's study was right off the foyer, anyway, so Asbel was able to tug Hubert over to it almost as soon as they were in the house. Hubert crouched low, staying near the wall, as if he could blend into it and not be seen. Asbel, meanwhile, peered in through the crack of the slightly ajar, mahogany door.

"I don't think he's in there," he whispered, though he didn't know why he was whispering. Hubert started whispering, too.

"But what if he comes in? What if we get in trouble? What if—"

"If we stay here, we will," Asbel interrupted. He looked around quickly, but there was no one else around to catch them. He grinned. "C'mon, let's go!" He took his little brother's hand again, and – throwing caution to the wind – pushed the door open and pulled Hubert inside.

Their daddy's study was huge. Everything seemed gigantic to Asbel, from the bookcases, to the desk, to the chairs. He had actually been in here once or twice, when his mommy had brought him and Hubert in, but that didn't make this sight any less impressive – especially since he and Hubert were now in there by themselves. It seemed to take a year to cross from the threshold of the door to the desk, and even after they made it over, Asbel still wasn't tall enough to see on the top. He pouted.

To think, the maids had said he was growing "like a weed" . . .

"Where's the letter?" Hubert asked, and Asbel didn't really know, but he made his best guess anyway and pointed to the top of the desk.

"Up there. We've just gotta get up there and find it." He looped around the desk and started toward his daddy's chair, though Hubert grabbed the back of his shirt. Asbel looked over his shoulder. "What?"

"Azzy, we're really not s'posed to be in here," Hubert said, and he sounded genuinely worried. "And you're not s'posed to get in Daddy's chair! He'll get mad!" Asbel rolled his eyes, and gently removed Hubert's hand from his shirt.

"Don't be a baby, Hubert. I'll be fine! Wait there." With that, Asbel turned and scrambled up into the large, leather chair. It seemed to engulf him. He couldn't even see the desk when he was sitting in it, forcing him to stand completely up on the seat, just so that the top of the desk could come up to his waist. Really, the desk seemed like untamed wilderness, for as neat as it was (far neater than Asbel's desk, which was covered in half-finished drawings and a few books), it looked vast to Asbel, and he didn't even know where to start.

"Do you see it?" Hubert asked, voice hushed. Asbel twisted his lips in thought.

"Hmm . . ." Asbel leaned forward, hands on the desk, looking at all the papers on top. They were all stacked into neat piles and yellowish folders—a stark difference from how Asbel stored things. He didn't get a close enough look at the letter that morning to really see what it looked like, and so he grabbed a paper at random – one that wasn't stacked on others, just because. "I think maybe this is it."

"What's it say? Let me see!" Hubert moved over to the chair, leaning against it and craning his neck as Asbel dropped into a seated position.

"Umm . . . it says . . ." Asbel frowned, squinting hard at the letters written on the paper, trying to sound them out. "'Dear Lord As . . . ton . . . Dear Lord Aston—'"

"That's Daddy," Hubert supplied, and Asbel huffed.

"I know that, Hubert, shush! 'Dear Lord Aston: We re . . . gret to in . . . inform you that your bro . . . ther . . . brother, Aldan Lhant, has passed—"

"Asbel? Hubert? What are you doing in here?"

Hubert gasped and jumped behind the chair, as if that could hide him, and Asbel jumped so that his finger slid along the edge of the letter, giving him a paper cut. He quickly kissed the wound, as his mother would, before sticking his finger in his mouth. Their father stood in the doorway, but while he'd looked upset all day, he didn't necessarily look mad now; just off-guard.

"Um . . . reading," Asbel said, because he couldn't think of anything better to say. Hubert made a little unhappy noise from behind the chair, and he added, "Hubert's not here, though. It's just me, Daddy."

"Don't lie to me, Asbel." Their daddy sounded tired, somehow, like he needed a nap or a little bit of sugar, and he walked into the room, toward them. Asbel quickly tossed the letter on the desk. "I saw him when I came in, and you two are never apart, besides."

"Are . . . Are we in trouble, Daddy?" Hubert asked, voice tiny as he came around the chair. Their daddy looked down at his youngest son, and Asbel couldn't be sure, but he almost thought he saw a smile.

"No, Hubert. Not this time." Their daddy bent down to pick Hubert up, giving him a hug, and Asbel relaxed, because while he didn't mind being in trouble so much (like Time Out could bother him), he really would have felt bad if Hubert got punished, too. "Though you both know you're not allowed to be in here. Asbel, you in particular know better."

"I know," Asbel muttered, and even though he didn't mind getting in trouble, he did feel a little guilty due to his daddy's tone. His daddy didn't sound mad, after all; just . . . disappointed. And as far as Asbel was concerned, "disappointed" was always worse than "mad."

Their daddy sighed. "Well, I can let it slide, this time." He reached out and mussed Asbel's hair, making it even messier than before, and Asbel couldn't help smile a little, hopping down from the chair as their daddy set Hubert back on his feet. "Now, why don't you two run along and play? I saw a half-finished dinosaur drawn on the patio out in the garden."

"That was mine," Asbel said proudly. "I drew it there to eat the ants on the ground." Hubert frowned a little, tilting his head to the side.

"But Azzy, it's just a drawlin'. It can't eat the ants."

"Sure it can," Asbel said, folding his arms. "'Cause it's a dinosaur, and it's a magic drawing."

"A magic drawlin'?"

"Yup, 'cause I drew it with the red rock. All red rock drawings are magic drawings that can come to life. So, my dinosaur will come to life and chomp all the ants." Hubert was still frowning, but this time his frown contained a bit of disbelief. Sometimes, Asbel found himself surprised by how skeptical his five-year-old brother could be.

"Nu-uh. Drawlin's can't come to life even if they're drawed by red rocks. You're teasing me again, Azzy."

"Nu-uh, am not," Asbel insisted. "It's true, and you know why?" Before Hubert could answer, Asbel said, "'Cause I said so, and I'm your big brother, and that means I'm always right!"

Their daddy laughed, then, and for a second, Asbel had almost forgotten he was in the room. "Well, why don't you two go see who is or isn't right outside?" he suggested, and he gave them light little pushes – just enough to get them walking, not enough to push them over – toward the door. "I look forward to seeing what you two come up with."

Right then, at that moment, Asbel just took Hubert's hand and led them out of their daddy's study, their daddy closing the door behind them. At that moment, it didn't occur to him how strange that was—he didn't remember that their daddy usually corrected the stories he made up, usually told Hubert what the truth was instead of letting him believe whatever Asbel came up with. No, Asbel wasn't thinking of that right then, though there was something else relevant on his mind.

"Hey . . . that's kinda weird, isn't it, Hubert?"

"What is?" Hubert looked up at Asbel, who frowned.

"The letter said that Daddy had a brother—you know, like you and me. I wonder where he is?" Hubert's eyes widened a bit before he canted his head, frowning a little himself.

"I . . . I dunno, Azzy."

"Hm." Asbel just kept frowning, and for a reason he didn't understand, his chest felt a little tight and he held Hubert's hand a little tighter. "Weird."