Cecil took the shortcut by the creepy statue, then straight into someone. They both landed with a grunt in the dirt.
Cecil grinned when he noticed who the other person was. They both stood and Cecil couldn't help himself, “how many did you get?”
Oakley grinned back, “Three. They’re hard as rock, and didn’t break on the way down. Unlike you. The palace healers must be pretty good to get you up an running like that in just a few days.”
Cecil shifted his feet, “yeah… So, can I have one?”
“Guess so. You owe me in the future though.”
Oakley pulled out a small leather pouch no bigger than the palm of his hand, and gave it to Cecil, who grabbed it eagerly.
“Sure, but what do you want this time?”
Inside the egg was sky blue, and brighter than any diamond.
“Oh, I dunno. I’ll let you know when I think of it. But I’ve gotta go now, pops will want help getting the horses back in the stall before night gets here.”
“Sure. I have things to do too.”
Then they parted ways, Cecil carefully held the pouch from within his pocket all the way to his room.
He opened his door slowly. If Fanny was in there, he might be able to sneak in and out without her knowing. Or maybe she would be gone again. When it was open enough for him to slip through, he did.
Right into her gaze.
“Took you long enough to get here. The healers sent your mother an update the moment you left. And she sent a note telling me to get you to her.”
“Oh.”
She sighed, “Oh is right. Where have you been disappearing off to lately? I need to be able to find you so that this doesn’t keep happening.”
As much as she may be right, he had promised Oakley not to share. But two of his problems might make one solution.
“Well, when I come back you aren’t here. So, where have you been?”
Her face reddened, making her freckles stand out.
Huh.
That was unexpected.
She folded her arms and growled, “Your mother is waiting. We’d better go”
She grabbed Cecil’s hand and dragged him out at a brisk pace.
What did all that mean? Mayrie had said that she was down in the kitchen a lot.
Maybe she was hungry? Girls often got touchy over their weight. But would she blush for food? The only other thing of interest in the kitchen were the people. But why…
He watched her long red braid swinging in time with her steps. Did she like one of the chiefs? His maid? His face scrunched up. If true, gross. He needed to investigate some more to confirm his theory.
Then they stopped.
Cecil’s mind caught up with the situation at hand and broke out in a sweat. Fanny opened the yellow wood doors painted with white flowering vines, then shoved him in vindictively before she shut the door.
His body shuddered once before he forced Madam Wyntrop’s lessons to the forefront.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Mind over body.
Spine straight, look at the host, and bow to her.
Her nails clicked on the table.
He bent at the waist stiffly, and waited for her to acknowledge him.
His collar itched.
He needed to pop his ankle.
Was that someone whispering behind his back?
But it was just the door. And no one outside would dare whisper and risk the wrath of the queen.
“Welcome back from the infirmary, son.” Her hand made a slight gesture that showed off her red pointed nails, “come sit.”
Cecil rose from his bow, and hurried to a small chair in front of her. It had no back. But it wasn’t like he could relax in it anyway. He sat down and planted his feet firmly into the floor to preemptively resist the urge to swing them or cross them.
The only thing he was allowed to do was watch. And wait.
Click.
She sat as she always did, behind a large blocky desk that was engraved with lines of gold wire and decoration. That way the design was still protected under the guise of useless leaves and trees. Her pale complexion was striking with black hair and eyes, cold as obsidian.
The only warmth was in her red dress, sensible in cut, but a red darker than strawberry jam. She was writing on papers in front of her, slowly going through the stack to her left. The papers that ran a kingdom. Usually his father would stand behind her for meetings to lend his power to her, but tonight he was blessedly elsewhere.
Click.
She was the brains, and he was the power. He could easily see Eriss or Arron becoming rulers. He was hopeless. Which meant he had to work harder to be of use.
Click.
“Cecil dear.”
He sat up straighter, “Yes ma’am?”
“You broke your arm. Who did it?”
His heart stopped cold. “What?”
Click.
“All of my children are perfect. Yet, you became broken. You have never been wild enough to try anything like climbing a tree. Who influenced you?”
He wanted to throw Tavv’s escapades into her face, but had promised not to. He couldn’t rat out Oakley either.
She had fired a serving maid who had snuck cookies to him when he had been grounded. There was no telling what she would do to the person who broke the arm of her precious little boy.
Although, Cecil didn’t feel particularly precious at the moment.
It felt more accurate that he was part of her image.
The image of royalty.
Of power.
It wouldn’t do to have a weak link in the bloodline. A compromised link in the chain of power.
“There was no one mother. I was hot, and it was cool up there.”
Her eyes narrowed, “and how would you know if you had never climbed a tree before?”
He swallowed, “a book.”
“Which book?”
He scraped his brain for a book that might possibly have the information that he mentioned, then made a gamble, “I’ve read so many recently that I don’t remember.”
Click.
“Hmm. I guess it is possible. Pro Ostrian has given a glowing report on your literary activity.” she waved a hand, “you are dismissed.”
Cecil sighed internally as muscles relaxed. He stood to leave, when she made one last remark.
“Oh, and if I find out that you are lying, there will be grave consequences.”
Cecil nodded then darted out the door as fast as politely possible.
Outside Fanny had been waiting for him, took one look, then hugged him.
“It’ll all rise into a nice loaf in the end, don’t fret. But let us go to Mayrie. I’m sure she has some late night sweets we can steal.”
Cecil nodded woodenly and followed her. He hadn’t realized how nice it was to have a friend until the friend had been threatened. He needed to come up with some sort of contingency in case his mother found out. Because she always found out sooner or later.
It wasn’t long before they were in the kitchen, and Mayrie was fussing over him, trying to get him to eat as many cookies as possible so that he could “get some meat on his bones”.
It wasn’t until she went to brew him some tea that he noticed that Fanny had struck up a conversation with a lanky boy with curly black hair. He frowned at the interaction.
They were talking in an awfully familiar tone. Were they friends?
Fanny must have noticed his look, because she turned slightly and introduced him, “Cecil, this is my friend Brons. He is Thom’s new favorite assistant.” she elbowed him with a grin, “ain’t that right?”
He stumbled from the slight blow, “Be gentle! I have to be in tip top shape y’know?”
“Uh huh. No other reason to be in tip top shape?”
His face grew red, “Nope. If I’m going to own my own shop, I need to make a favorable impression here.”
Her eyes grew predatory, “you’ve made a favorable impression on some of the kitchen girls already.”
Cecil tuned out the conversation.
The case of the disappearing maid was closed.
She was here for a boy.
Eww.
/? - ? -マ
