The shout echoed down the corridor—"Oi! Otto!"
Otto froze mid-step, The voice was unfamiliar.
He turned slowly, Klara halting behind him like a shadow.
Striding toward them was a tall kid—
Stretch that. Is. A. full blown adult.
golden hair cropped shorter than Otto's, green eyes narrowed in amusement. He wore a padded jack over his doublet, like he'd just come from the yard, mud still flecking his boots. A practice sword hung at his hip.
Fabian stopped a few paces away, arms crossed, smirk wide. " Father's waiting in the hall, and you dawdle like a maiden." Sighing "when will you learn you little twatt, never forget taking your prescribed medication ain't we?"
His gaze flicked to Klara, lingering just long enough to make Otto's skin crawl, then back. "Or is the new servant distracting you already?"
Otto's mouth went dry. The embarrassment from minutes ago flared hotter—blood rushing to his face before he could stop it.
Who the fuck is this guy? Wait—brother. Shit. Play it cool.
"I was… on my way."
Fabian laughed, low and sharp. "Good. Wouldn't want the family embarrassment to keep everyone waiting." He clapped Otto on the shoulder—hard enough to sting—then brushed past, boots thudding toward the hall.
Otto stood there a second longer, jaw clenched.
Klara waited silently.
He started walking again, faster now, turmoil churning fresh.
The great hall's noise spilled out ahead, warm light and clattering dishes promising more eyes, and more judgment.
stepping through the archway, Fabian already claiming a spot at the high table, shooting him a grin.
I don't have time to deal with him..