Cecilus and his family were quickly greeted by servants — their crisp uniforms gleaming in the lamplight — and by Alison's father, Lord Regnier.
"Reymund! My old friend!" Regnier's voice boomed across the courtyard. His cheeks were already flushed red, and his breath carried the sharp scent of alcohol.
"Long time no see," Reymund replied with measured politeness as he stepped down from the carriage, helping Zylee down after he approached her carriage. "Have most of the guests arrived?"
"Some," Regnier said, waving his arm in a loose, carefree motion. "We expect more over the next few days. Still plenty of wine left, though!" He let out a loud laugh that broke into a brief cough.
He turned on his heel, motioning toward the grand entryway. "Servants will show your family to their rooms. Come, Reymund — the main hall's packed, but the wine will never run out!"
Reymund's expression twitched faintly, a near-invisible crack in his composure, but he nodded and followed.
Regnier stopped abruptly when his eyes caught Cecilus. The boy stood slightly apart from the rest, hands tucked in his pockets, crouched near a single purple flower growing by the path.
"Oh, Cecilus! Join us!" Regnier roared with a grin. "Thirteen's old enough to handle your liquor!"
Reymund's gaze sharpened in warning, but Cecilus simply met his father's eyes with a calm, almost indifferent look — and nodded.
He left his crouched position near the flower and followed Regnier alongside his father.
Silently, he whispered to his father.
Rising from his crouch, he brushed the dust from his trousers and followed the men. As they walked, he leaned slightly toward his father and whispered, "Don't worry. I'll stay for a bit and slip out after I get bored. I wouldn't dare touch alcohol."
Reymund exhaled through his nose, his stern features softening just slightly.
As Cecilus trailed behind them, his thoughts drifted back to the flower he'd left behind.
Many of these flowers are grown around my families garden. My mother seems to like the purple hue. Strange how colors can mean so much to others. Beautiful, they call it... while I still can't see what's so fine about that shade.
They entered the grand ballroom — a vast chamber filled with murmuring voices and the scent of sweet wine. Bars lined the walls, and clusters of men stood talking in heavy coats and jeweled cuffs. The marble floors gleamed, reflecting the gold chandeliers that swung above.
It wasn't as crowded as Cecilus had expected, mostly older nobles with drinks in hand. His eyes caught his cousin Alison in a far corner, seated with a circle of young noblewomen. Their laughter was light, practiced, and distant.
"There are many people your age here!" Regnier said, turning toward him with enthusiasm. "Like—ah! There!" He pointed proudly toward a small child wobbling near a column. "That's my son, Timothy!"
Cecilus blinked. The boy couldn't have been older than five.
He forced an awkward smile. "Ah... yes. I'll be fine from here. Thank you for the warm welcome."
Regnier, already distracted, didn't respond. He'd turned back to Reymund, beckoning him toward a boisterous group of half-drunken men.
A small voice tugged at Cecilus's sleeve. "Want to play?"
He looked down at Timothy, who stared up with wide, expectant eyes.
"Sure," Cecilus said, forcing some warmth into his tone. "Do you like dogs?"
No! Aldo's voice barked inside his head.
Damn it, how did you—
Silence.
Timothy shook his head. "No... they're scary."
Well, the puppy doesn't seem like he wants to come out anyway...
"Alright then," Cecilus said. "How about hide and seek?"
Cecilus planned on ditching the kid after getting him to hide.
Timothy frowned. "Father said no. Last time I hid, nobody found me. They just gave up without telling me."
Cecilus nearly choked back a laugh. You've been abandoned that many times? Wait... am I evil for thinking that's funny? He sighed inwardly. No! I'm sorry! I won't betray you like the others! I'll do whatever you want!
"So what do you want to do, then?" Cecilus asked.
"Let's prank my sister! She said she's moving away, and she deserves it!" the boy said with a tiny scowl, arms crossed.
Cecilus watched him, mildly amused. Blunt little thing. His father isn't much different. Honesty's admirable, I suppose... if you don't care who hates you for it.
"Well," Cecilus said, "you've come to the right person. But—one condition."
Timothy perked up. "What is it?"
"No matter what happens, if you get caught, you don't tell anyone I helped. Promise?"
"Yeah, promise!"
Cecilus leaned down and pinched the boy's cheek lightly.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"Verification," Cecilus said. "I don't trust verbal agreements."
Timothy pouted, rubbing his cheek, but soon began skipping in circles again. Cecilus smiled faintly — the test worked. Heightened emotions always revealed truth, and the boy's soul had flared honest.
"I'll handle the distraction," Cecilus said. "You think of a prank."
The child nodded vigorously. "I know exactly what I'll do!"
Good. Give him the hard part, Cecilus mused. If I plan it, it'll get too elaborate for a five-year-old. Would be bad if everyone finds out I am involved.
"Alright! I know exactly what I'm going to do!"
"Tell me when you need the distraction."
As Timothy ran off as Cecilus gave him his last piece of information, Cecilus then scanned the room.
Distracting her should be pretty easy. I just need to go up to her and say hello since I haven't done so yet. She's already looking clueless, talking to that large group of... only girls. I can bear the slight awkwardness of walking there, right?
Just then, he saw a drunk man walk over to the group. He was shot more glares than Cecilus had ever seen in his life.
Maybe I can just go jump off the nearby stairway? No... that's too soon after the events that happened a few weeks ago.
He turned toward the bar first, claiming a glass of water while his eyes wandered. That's when he noticed his siblings entering from the side door. Relief.
"You two want to meet our cousin Alison?" Cecilus called, stepping toward them. "She hasn't met either of you yet. I can introduce you."
In truth, Cecilus just wanted Zylee beside him— and insulation from the coming wave of noble stares.
Zylee eyed him suspiciously. Why is he suddenly being nice? He's plotting something.
"I'm fine," she said briskly. "I'm going to talk to Father."
"Have fun," Cecilus replied dryly.
Ayas shrugged. "Sure, I'll come."
Cecilus's face drained of color. Great. Another witness to my suffering. Zylee, I'll haunt you for this.
He led Ayas toward the spot where Timothy had stood earlier.
"Why are we just standing here?" Ayas asked.
"My legs decided to stop working for five minutes," Cecilus said flatly.
"I'll time it."
Cecilus groaned inwardly. He bought it? Or he's pretending to. I'll take either.
After a few minutes, Timothy ran back, tugging Cecilus's sleeve.
"Who's that?" Ayas asked.
"Our cousin. Lord Regnier's son," Cecilus said.
"And why is he here?"
"No reason."
Ayas sighed, deciding not to push further. Cecilus almost smirked. The perks of being the older brother? Or maybe he just doesn't want to put up with my bullshit?
Timothy darted away, and Cecilus finally steeled himself.
"Alright," he muttered, "let's do this."
Ayas frowned. "It hasn't been five minutes."
"Approximately five," Cecilus corrected. "And don't tell me you're scared. Come on."
"I saw some drunk man try to talk to them and get humiliated," Ayas said quietly.
Cecilus blinked. Maybe I'm not alone after all. That might be the best news I've heard in years!
"Grow a backbone!" he said instead, patting his brother's back with forced enthusiasm.
Together they approached the group. Most of the girls were several years older — the youngest perhaps twelve or thirteen. Cecilus and Ayas, though short for their age, still looked around eleven.
To his surprise, Alison smiled brightly when she saw them.
"Cecilus! I saw you arrive! I was wondering when you'd come greet me."
Maybe they just hate drunk men, Cecilus thought. Understandable.
"Hello, Alison. It's wonderful to see you — how long has it been?"
"Almost four years," she said warmly. "Time flies, doesn't it?"
"Indeed. You were fifteen back then — now you're grown and getting married. Congratulations."
"Thank you!" she said, her face glowing.
Cecilus studied her quietly. She used to only brag endlessly about her jewelry... guess time really does sand down the edges.
"Oh, and this is my younger brother Ayas," Cecilus said. "He's nearly twelve, and he's... uh..." He hesitated, then pushed Ayas forward. "He can introduce himself."
Ayas blinked. "Um... hello."
Cecilus mentally winced. I should really do research before social interaction.
Alison smiled brightly. "Ayas! Your father's told me so much about you!"
Both brothers froze.
"He said you're a gifted pianist — the best he's heard! Could you play for us later? Maybe even during the wedding?"
Ayas stammered. "Oh, um... I promised my sister I'd dance with her. But I can play now, if you'd like."
Cecilus blinked. What? Since when—?
Aldo, he hissed inwardly. Why didn't you tell me this?
I did, Aldo replied lazily. You just weren't listening. Also, I wanted to see you squirm.
Bad dog.
Ayas sat at the nearby piano, fingers poised over the keys. When he began to play, the music filled the ballroom — calm, intricate, flowing like water. Conversations softened as the melody grew.
Cecilus, however, wasn't listening. His gaze had drifted upward — and froze.
Buckets.
Buckets of water floated near the ceiling, glimmering faintly in the chandelier light.
What? How does no one else see this?
Each bucket wavered, their surfaces trembling. They hovered directly above the group — centered over Alison.
Cecilus's stomach dropped.
Shit. I completely forgot.