AN: Hope you enjoy reading~

Chapter 12:

Flavio had not slept well that night. His mind simply had not allowed him to relax. Every noise outside his door had him on high alert, waiting for someone to test the lock on his door. He had not realised how well trodden the hallway outside his room was until he found himself jumping at every single footstep.

He was exhausted.

And as he walked downstairs to join the others, his fatigue was something Fafnir and the others quickly picked up on, despite him trying to hide it.

"Oh my, Sir Flavio, are you feeling all right?"

"Seems like exhaustion has finally caught up with the kid."

"He needs to eat more meat. His iron levels are probably low."

"N-no no, I'm fine," Flavio automatically insisted.

Fafnir, however, narrowed his eyes as he looked him up and down. He was clearly displeased, concerned. Yet there was something else in his gaze. Something akin to…suspicion?

That made Flavio's heart skip a beat. What did he…?

"You're staying at the inn today," Fafnir stated, leaving no room for argument.

Flavio automatically put up a token fight, but inwardly he was torn. He was grateful not to be working that day. He needed to regain his energy for the birthday party that night. There were sure to be a lot of very important people from the gentry. He expected his anxiety to be off the charts.

But on the other hand, he did not want to stay at the inn alone. Far away from Fafnir and the others. Nothing had actually occurred during the day. So far. But there was always a first time for everything.

"And you're going to sleep in my room," Fafnir suddenly ordered, deftly ignoring all his protests.

That caught Flavio off guard. "What? Why?"

Fafnir levelled him with a telling stare. "So I can check on you during the day. And to ensure you won't 'sneakily' do some work in your room behind my back."

Flavio pouted. "I'm not that much of a workaholic."

Fafnir arched an eyebrow while everyone else looked at him in a deadpanned manner. Or in Arianna's case, a polite but knowing smile.

…Rude.

However, sleeping in Fafnir's room was not a bad idea, actually. His…admirers would not look for him there, would they? He might actually get some sleep. And that was what he needed; sleep.

"Fine, fine," Flavio relented. "I can't go to the birthday on the verge of exhaustion, anyway."

"Good." Fafnir clasped a hand on his shoulder, more than intent to lead him back to their rooms.

Flavio ducked into his room to grab a set of comfortable clothes to wear in bed before Fafnir all but marched him into his room. He, of course, fussed about how not to answer the door to anyone, how he was the only one with the keys, and, naturally, he was to rest and to not do any work.

The usual protectiveness of him.

Still endearing, nevertheless. And much appreciated.

"I'll stop by later with some food," Fafnir said as he walked to the door. "Get some sleep."

"Yes, yes." Flavio rolled his eyes fondly. "And you call me a fusspot."

Fafnir shot him a half smile over his shoulder. "I'll be back soon. And no cleaning my room."

Flavio ran his gaze over the room. Now that he mentioned it…Ah, that would have to wait. He really was tired.

With Fafnir again telling him to get some sleep with the promise of checking in on him at some point, he then closed the door and locked it with his key. Flavio could unlock it from the inside if necessary, so he was not trapped. But the sound of the lock and knowing that Fafnir was the only one with the key was reassuring, nevertheless.

Flavio took a moment to pull the curtains close before he changed into his nightwear. He folded back the blankets and slipped beneath them. A sigh escaped his lips as he sunk into the mattress and tugged the blankets over him.

The pillow and sheets…smelt like Fafnir. Earthy, heady…intoxicating. He instantly felt safe. Comfortable. Protected.

He had not realised how badly he needed to feel safe and secure.

It would be better if Fafnir was there with him. Physically there. But…it was nice all the same. He could fall asleep quickly like this…

… … … … …

Flavio awoke with a jolt. He did not immediately know what woke him from a deep sleep and he blearily looked around.

"It's me."

Flavio's response to Fafnir's voice was immediate; he relaxed into bed and dropped his head back onto the pillow. He heard Fafnir move about the room as he waded through the bleariness of post-sleep.

"What time is it?" Flavio murmured.

"It's around lunchtime."

"Is it?" That was a surprise. "Hm, I slept the entire time."

Fafnir set a paper bag upon the desk. "Good. I brought you some food."

Flavio stretched languidly before he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He sniffed the air, and a favourable scent had his mouth watering. "Hmm, curry."

As he rested his back against the bed headboard, Fafnir gave him a bowl of rice and curry, one he readily retrieved. "Thanks." Hungry or not, he always had room for curry.

"How are you feeling?" Fafnir asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Better," Flavio replied. He honestly did. The last few hours were the best he had slept since…the whole ordeal had begun. A week?

A week…

Had it really been that long? It simultaneously felt longer yet also shorter. To think he had been dealing with the flowers, the notes, and the threats that long. On his own. By choice, of course.

He…still did not know what to do about them.

His gaze flickered over toward Fafnir and a sense of guilt settled in his chest. He should tell him; he knew he should. If their situation was reversed, he would want to know. But after Ginnungagap, with Fafnir needing to find strong enemies to defeat, with the request to find the grail from Lady Gadriel; there was already so much for everyone, for Fafnir to be stressed over.

Flavio just could not bring himself to add to it.

He couldn't.

Flavio was pulled from his thoughts by a gentle hand brushing against his cheeks. He blinked himself back into reality and found Fafnir staring at him, his hand being the one to touch the side of his face.

"You're stressing about something," Fafnir said, his voice a-matter-of-fact.

"Oh, ah," Flavio stuttered softly. "I guess I'm worried about the dinner tonight."

A half-truth, not a full lie. That was one of his many anxieties.

"What about you? Are you looking forward to tonight?"

Fafnir sighed. "Truthfully? Not really. It's going to be really boring; I can tell. And I'm sure I'll say something to piss off some snobby aristocrat."

That brought a smile to Flavio's lips, and he laughed softly. Fafnir's mouth did not have a filter. "I guess I'll just have to play interreference. As per usual."

Though, there was one thing he was looking forward to. He was looking forward to seeing Fafnir in a tux. The two of them have never been in anything close to formal wear before. Never. They were just a couple of orphaned kids, after all. Why would they?

But he was certain that Fafnir would scrub up well and would look good wearing a tux. They would have to make accommodations for his arm, but that would do little to hinder his handsomeness. Absolutely no doubt.

He just hoped that he looked alright standing next to him.

… … … … …

It was late afternoon when Flavio decided that he had better get up for the day. As comfortable as he was, he truly could not afford to spend any more hours sleeping in Fafnir's bed. He had to be wide awake for the social dinner that very night.

Codexes in hand, he made his way down to the tearoom and settled himself in front of the fireplace. Fafnir and the others were to return from the restaurant soon, anyway.

His anxieties were also beginning to creep up. Tonight's dinner was a very important event. Very important people from the aristocracy were to be there, so he had better ensure his posture was perfect and his pronunciations were correct. Not only was he representing his guild and the restaurant, but the Midgard Library as well.

It was going to be a nerve-racking night.

"Oh, Sir Flavio. Are you feeling better?"

Flavio lifted his gaze from his book and look over to the doorway of the tearoom, where he spied Arianna and he smiled at her in greeting. "Oh, welcome back. Hm. Feeling much better. Where's Fafnir?"

"He and Sir Bertrand are retrieving our eveningwear for the night," Arianna answered as she entered the room and walked over to him.

"Ah." Flavio closed his book. "How was the restaurant today?"

Arianna presented him with a peculiar smile as she sat down upon the settee next to him and folded her hands delicately upon her lap. "It was quite interesting. I have come to noticed that you are quite beloved by the people of High Lagaard."

Flavio tilted his head to the side questioningly. "Hm? What makes you say that?"

"While working at the restaurant today, your absence was immediately noticed. And those who did not were soon informed, and they suddenly left, stating that they had business elsewhere."

Flavio was left shocked at the revelation. "A-ah, really?"

Seriously?! That could not be true, could it?

"It was quite…informative." Arianna lifted her hands to lips to cover up an amused giggle, one that lasted a few seconds. It seemed she found the incident more amusing than annoying. "I should ask you for advice. As princess of Caledonia, it is important that I endear myself to my people always."

Flavio scratched his cheek, mildly noting how flushed they felt. "I d-don't do anything special. Besides, I don't think you need any help with that. You're a natural."

Arianna lowered her hands back to her lap, once again elegant and sophisticated. "Oh, you think so?" Her cheerful expression faltered, however, and her eyes became downcast as she looked down at her folded hands. "Poor Dame Regina, she will need some assistance, I'm afraid."

"Ah, yeah, unfortunately." Flavio could not help but wince. He imagined Regina would still be annoyed and upset from what Bertrand said to her yesterday.

No one liked hearing the cold hard truth.

"I don't know if I can help," Flavio began, idly trailing his fingers over the edges of the book resting in his lap. "I've never had to, well, endear myself to someone. I've always been able to get along with just about everyone I've met. And those who have taken a dislike toward me for any reason, I've avoided in return. There has never been a reason for me to try to get along with someone for the sake of convenience or politics. I guess…I've been lucky that way." He glanced over at Arianna. "I don't suppose you have that privilege, do you?"

Arianna remained silent, her expression expertly pensive, yet her gaze held a faraway gaze. No doubt reliving memories of her own life. "…There have been times where I was required to share company with those who were unreceptive, you could say."

In other words, smile and grit your teeth to those who are rude and insufferable.

He could not imagine it.

"That must have been so difficult."

Being of royalty or nobility was not the life of luxury as many perceived it to be.

Flavio pivoted in his seat slightly to face the princess next to him. "Arianna, I think you are the best person to help Regina endear herself to the people of High Lagaard. To me, it comes easy. And to you it does. But you have also had to endear yourself to those who had first appeared to be adversaries. I don't have that experience. It will take more than Regina learning to smile."

Arianna gazed at him silently for a moment before a soft smile graced her lips and she nodded. "Yes, I agree. She will need to gain the trust and confidence of her customers. Prove that this venture is more than a whim of a noble."

"Yes, exactly."

This afternoon and tonight were going to be a big test for Regina. With them at the birthday event, she was to be working on her own. Hopefully, some customers would give the restaurant a chance. And that the dedicated chef took their gentle criticisms to heart.

"Dame Regina has begun to realise just how...underprepared she was for the role of a business owner," Arianna unexpectedly revealed.

They truly must have had a quiet heart to heart today.

"Her passion is cooking, but unfortunately, it takes far more than that to run a restaurant. It's probably luck that the restaurant has lasted as long as it has." Flavio paused before he winced. "Well, with our help, of course."

Arianna nodded as she idly trailed her fingertips over the stitching of her skirt's hemline. "Yes. The public can be a little...unpredictable, at times. Dame Regina was a little unprepared to face such scrutiny, now that she is no longer guarded behind the Dubois name."

A noble rocking up into the business district was akin to stepping into the wolf's den, he supposed.

"Perhaps it would have been better if Regina became the apprentice to another first. Gain some experience, in both the kitchen and public relations. Although, that's a little too late now, isn't it?"

Someone really should have pulled her aside and explained what could have occurred more clearly to her. It took more than a dream and determination to make a business work. Unless they were setting her up to fail from the beginning?

"I'm afraid so, yes. Dame Regina has made her public appearance, and it is best that she adheres to it. However, we will need to work on getting our favourite chef out of the kitchen to face said public, yes?"

That may be their most difficult challenge to date. Cooking was Regina's passion. All she wished to do. Unfortunately, a restaurant could not survive on a single, solitary chef.

"Is Regina still angry?"

The smile remained on Arianna's lips but took on a far more sympathetic feel. "She is still a little upset. Unfortunately, everything that was said, was true." She sighed and straightened her shoulders, taking on a determined stance. "Dame Regina will be all right."

"That's good to hear." It was clear that the two had grown quite close. "I'm glad Regina has someone like you in her life. I feel that you understand her better than anyone else could. Even her own family."

"Do you really think so?"

Flavio smiled encouragingly. "Absolutely. And that is what she needs right now, more than anything. More than the success of her restaurant. More than proving something to her family. She needs someone that understands her. Don't you agree?"

Arianna's expression softened and she nodded her head. "Yes, I do believe you are right."

Her eyes suddenly flickered over Flavio's shoulder, moving quickly as if something had caught her attention. And whatever it was, it was not a welcomed sight: her eyes widened, and her lips parted as the colour drained from her face.

Flavio felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck.

There was something behind him.

He whipped around, the book on his lap tumbling to the floor with a thud, and immediately looked at the only thing that could cause such a reaction from Arianna: the windows. The curtains were parted, allowing perfect, unimpeded viewing of the gardens outside.

And the pale, wide-eyed face that was pressed up against the glass looking in at them…

Flavio leapt to his feet with Arianna just behind him.

What? What the hell?! Why would there be someone staring in at them through the window?

Wait…

Oh no…

No, could it be them? Could that be the face of the person who had been leaving the flowers? The notes?

He did not recognise that face. Not at all. He did not look remotely familiar. Had he been at the restaurant? N-no, he did not think so? Only half of their face was showing, though. They appeared to be male. Face half hidden in a black scarf, only his nose that was slightly misshapen as if broken in the past and eyes of silver seen. Eyebrows were thick and unkempt, a line, a scar probably from his cheek and disappearing into his scarf.

He…who?

A flash of silver caught his attention as the man outside began to do something with the window. He was…attempting to lever open the window with a silver implement.

A knife.

He was…trying to get inside through the window?

What he was planning to do when he got in, Flavio had not a clue. Or why he simply did not just waltz in through the front doors like a normal person was another question he did not know the answer to. But neither mattered. The guy was trying to enter the tearoom through the window with a knife.

Flavio could not let that happen.

He lurched forward and grabbed desperately at the window, pushing down at it to keep it closed. His actions brought him closer to the man outside, leaving just a single pane of glass between them.

"Arianna, go!"

"Y-yes!"

Flavio felt sick to his stomach when the man outside paused in his movements to stare up at him with those silver eyes. He had stopped trying to force his way into the room, however. But Flavio did not relinquish his hold on the window frame in case he tried again.

"I just want to talk," the man said gruffly. And unexpectedly.

Flavio shook his head. Ah, no, they were not going to sit down for an evening chat!

"You don't understand, I have to talk to you," he insisted.

Flavio furrowed his brow and just gave him an incredulous look. Did he think he was stupid? He was not about to open the window to chat with someone holding a knife. If the conversation was vital, then he could have approached him like a normal person!

Whether it was from Flavio's facial expressions or lack of responses, but the man's eyes widened wildly. And he raised his hand to stab violent at the window with the knife, the tip of the knife cracking the glass.

Flavio threw himself backwards, heart pounding in his chest.

The man stared at him; the knife embedded in the glass. He then turned and darted away, taking the knife with him, and heading in the direction away from the inn.

Flavio placed a hand against his chest as he tried to level his breathing. That man…certainly was not Mandelson. He looked nothing like him.

There was no denying that he…he was one of his stalkers. He had to be. Flavio was the one wanted, the subject that was the centre of his attention. As much as he hated to admit it and as much as it baffled him.

But…why did he run?

Two new figures entering the garden and his line of sight caused Flavio to jump once more. But he breathed a deep sigh of relief when he recognised them, one in particular bringing him an immense feeling of safety. He darted over to the window, not the one that the man had been hacking away at with a knife, and quickly threw it open.

"Fafnir!"

Fafnir left Bertrand to continue his surveillance of the garden, looking for the intrusive creeper that was long gone, to join him. "What happened? Are you all right?"

Arianna must have gone in search of the two. "I'm fine. He's gone. He left just seconds ago."

"Where?"

"Away from the inn. He tried to get in through that window. No idea what he was trying to do. Pretty stupid prank, if it was one."

Fafnir frowned deeply, his lips pressed together tightly and his brow creased tightly. His expression somehow darkened further when he turned a crucial gaze to the damaged window. The chip in the glass was a most unwelcomed sight to him, as where the gouges within the wood of the windowsill.

"It certainly wasn't a prank," he muttered. "Did he say anything? Anything at all?"

Flavio shivered from both the cold window the opened window brought into the warm tearoom and the memory of that guy's husky, dry voice. "Only that he really needed to talk to me."

Fafnir's eyes narrowed sharply. "By knife point?"

Flavio forced out a short laugh. "Right? I'm not stupid. I certainly wasn't going to let him in after that little stunt."

Flavio was trying to be light-hearted, but inwardly he was a wreck. He could barely believe that actually happened. To him. Because of him.

At least he now had a description!

Question was: was he the one sending the flowers? Or the one sending the notes telling him to stay away from Mandelson?

He supposed he could work that out later. At least he had a description. Someone to look out for. His eyes, those eyebrows, and that nose was distinctive. Flavio should be able to recognise him again.

But…it was clear that things were escalating.

He had no idea what could happen next.