Harmonia Calendar 715, Thal 23 - Ashspire Estate, Elandor
Late Evening - Adonis' Room
His room smelled faintly of soap and fresh sheets. I stood in the center, hands on my hips, tilting my head as though considering them with the gravity of a general inspecting troops.
My hand lifted toward the blue tunic. My voice came firm, decisive.
"Blue. It matches your eyes."
Adonis turned, holding both up, his lips pressed thin.
"What if I look like a pond?"
The corner of my mouth twitched before I let out a soft laugh. I stepped closer, taking the blue from his hand. I held the tunic to his chest and tugged the hem straight.
"You'll look like someone who listened to his stylist."
His eyes flickered down.
I studied his face. The way his brows knit. The small twitch at the corner of his lips. How his shoulders drew in.
I read him like a book. My voice softened.
"You are nervous."
His back straightened, chin rising, eyes glancing to the side.
"I am not."
I crossed my arms, leaning closer, voice teasing but sure.
"You are. I can tell if you lie. Just stay still and talk less, and nothing happens."
He let out a breath before he took both tunics in his hands, setting them aside on the chair. Then he sat heavily on the bed. I followed, perching beside him, our shoulders touched. I didn't move away.
His eyes gazed at mine, voice quieter.
"You will stand beside me?"
My eyes met his, bright blue on emerald. I held his gaze.
"I will."
He smiled, soft and genuine.
"Thank you."
We paused, gaze locked. Heat climbed up my neck. I broke away too fast, and words tumbled out to cover it.
"You remembered your dancing lessons? Or will you grind noble toes into paste?"
His answer was too fast.
"I learned."
I narrowed my eyes.
'Liar.'
I smiled, voice soft.
"Show me."
He blinked, startled.
"Now?"
I stood and seized his hand before he could refuse, tugging him up.
"Yes. Now."
He hesitated, stiff at first, but then set his right hand against my back, his other lacing with mine.
We froze there, his breath caught, mine shallow. He waited for me to lead. And I made my choice.
I slid his hand lower, guiding it down to my waist. My voice carried the tone of a teacher, though my heart raced.
"If you dance with a lady, your hand goes to her waist. Not her back."
'It was a childish lie. But I didn't care."
The space between us shrank. Closer than a lesson.
I stepped lightly, pressing him forward. My voice came steady, instructive.
"Count. One, two, three. Don't look at your boots. Look at me."
He obeyed. His blue eyes locked on mine, unblinking. I swallowed, forcing my racing heart to slow.
We turned once across the rug. His foot landed on my slipper. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. He adjusted quickly, grip tightening at my waist. The second turn was smoother. His breath brushed my cheek. His scent wrapped close.
'Too close.'
My whisper came low.
"One, two, three. See? You won't die."
His eyes were on my lips as I spoke. My gaze snapped to his collar, anywhere else.
Knock.
The sharp sound broke us apart. I dropped his hand.
The steward's voice muffled through the door.
"My lady. Master Adonis. The steward requests you to rest. Tomorrow will be long."
I rolled my eyes, making a face at the door before turning back to him. My hand rose of its own accord, smoothing his collar one last time. I let it linger, a heartbeat too long.
"Wear the blue. And eat something, or I'll feed you cake until you're fat."
He smiled.
"Yes, Dori."
Heat rose. I tapped his arm, light, quick.
"Don't call me that in public."
I turned before he could see my face and left.
***
Late Evening - Adonis's Room
I met Theodora outside his door. She smiled too brightly, hands folded behind her back. Her ribbon had slipped loose, and hazel strands fell to her cheek.
I stepped closer and fixed it with a slight tug. My voice came low, half warning.
"Don't spoil him."
Her lips curved, defiant as always.
"That will be hard."
I shook my head and pushed the door open. She stayed behind.
Inside, Adonis carefully folded a blue tunic before setting it aside. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, watching him.
"I don't like the air in this house tonight."
He glanced up, a laugh breaking from him.
"Did you ever like it?"
I let the joke slide and pushed away from the door, voice firmer.
"Listen. I don't have details. Father hides them. Favian looks like he has already decided something. If you can avoid attention, do it. If a choice comes, choose safe."
His eyes locked with mine. The humor slipped out of them.
"I did nothing."
I stepped closer.
"I know."
His voice dropped.
"Then why does it feel like it will not matter?"
'Because it would not.'
The thought stayed.
Instead, I set a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
"I will be near. If something happens, I will come."
He gave a slight nod, voice soft.
"Thank you."
I forced a smile, though it didn't reach my eyes.
"Sleep well, brother."
I let go of his shoulder and stepped back toward the door.
***
Night - Servant Wing
The servant wing slept in silence, it smelled of soap and damp linen.
A girl stood there, pressed to the wall. Her hands clutched at her apron.
Favian blocked her path. His posture was relaxed, shoulders loose, red eyes steady on her face. His smile curved gently.
He spoke softly.
"Your family's debt is heavier than you can carry. I can lift it."
The girl's eyes darted to the floor. Her voice trembled.
"M–my lord…how could I?"
Favian reached into his coat and drew out a coin. He caught her hand, turning it palm up, and set the coin there. His fingers closed hers over it, slow, deliberate.
"You will cry. You will say the words I tell you. You will be a victim."
Her fingers tightened around the coin as words stumbled out.
"My…lord, I—"
He leaned closer before she could finish, his breath brushing her ear, voice soft.
"If you refuse, their debt stands. Is that what you want?"
Her heart stopped, she flinched as he drew near. She shook her head faintly and whispered.
"I don't want any of this."
Favian straightened, his hand resting briefly on her shoulder, tone smooth as silk.
"Then do what helps. You are not lying. You are helping justice."
Her body tensed beneath his hand, a shiver running through her shoulder where his fingers rested.
With no other way, she weakly nodded.
Her voice was small when she asked, eyes fixed on the floor.
"What…what do I say?"
***
Night - Corridor
My footsteps echoed softly against the stone until a maid darted around the corner.
She nearly collided with me, only stopping a step away. Her face was pale, drained of color. Recognition flickered in her eyes before she bowed.
"Please forgive me, Master Lucien."
I didn't care for the apology, but I was concerned about her well-being. I steadied her with a hand, my voice even.
"Are you unwell?"
She shook her head too quickly. Her eyes flicked up for a heartbeat, then slipped past my shoulder.
"I am fine, my lord."
I frowned, studying her. I had seen her often enough in the laundry yard.
'Sarah...Adonis helped her with the laundry.'
My tone softened, though I kept my gaze firm.
"Has someone troubled you?"
Her answer came, sharp and fast.
"No, my lord."
Too quick. Her hands clutched the edge of her apron. Whatever she carried, she wasn't ready to speak it aloud.
I let the silence linger a moment, then spoke again, softer.
"If you are in danger, find the steward's wife. Tell her Lucien sent you."
She hesitated, then gave a slight nod and hurried away.
I stood alone in the corridor, the quiet returned as her steps faded. My thoughts circled back to father.
'If I were stronger, I wouldn't be here measuring shadows. I'd be ending them.'
The thought cut, but wishing did nothing.
I drew a breath, straightened, and turned back toward my chamber.
'Enough. Tomorrow, I will watch every step. I will be the wall between my brother and whatever they throw against him.'
***
Late at Night - Favian's Room
The chamber lay in shadow, except for the single lightstone on the desk.
Its dim light carved a thin circle across the mirror, showing Favian's reflection.
He straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin, and spoke to the glass.
"A true heir protects the weak."
The words were smooth, his lips curving into pity, his eyes softening into feigned sorrow. He observed the reflection, measuring every detail.
"Too flat."
His mouth moved again, repeating the line.
"A true heir protects the weak."
This time, he let the last word hang, his tone breaking faintly as though grief cracked his voice.
His red eyes narrowed, studying the man in the mirror. Slowly, a gentle, convincing smile spread across his face.
"Perfect."
He reached out, tapped the stone. The light died. Darkness swallowed the chamber.
The smile stayed.