BXBX NOVEL Chapter 157
Augustus scrunched his face. “Bourdain?”
“Yes. But they no longer share any connection,” I quickly point out. Much like myself, she never had any choice in who her father is.
It’s a touch dark but I can still see Augustus’ smirk. “Look at you speaking in her defense. You must already be good friends,” he laughs. He is right in a way.
We are in a room jam-packed with esteemed individuals from around the Erudian Empire, many still in town from the crown prince’s disastrous coming-of-age ceremony, yet I only notice the youngsters. Meanwhile, Duke Finn murmurs into the ear of his evening date, a recent debutante whose name I cannot remember but one who was prominently spoken of as the most eligible bachelorette of this slow social season. Janice, or more precisely, the fat jewel fashioned into a choker that adorns her neck, is burning my eyes with how much it glitters from the front row. I know she will be the talk of the town tomorrow. Chancellor Duvernay’s seat is so close to our elevated box seat that I bet if I sat over the edge, it would be a bull’s eye.
“Nonsense,” I spout shyly, turning my attention across the rest of the expansive house. “That’s Elsbeth over there. The host. She is kind as well.”
“Ah, to be young again when everyone was kind,” my brother laments.
.....
“You are not even 20 years old yet,” I deadpan, raising an eyebrow. What is it with kids pretending to be older than they are? But rather than hearing whatever jovial response Augustus comes up with, an unwelcome voice joins the idle conversation.
“Some people are older in spirit. Wouldn’t you agree, Winter?” Julian suddenly pipes up. He has a strange smirk on his face, no doubt from butting into the conversation and alluding to a topic only he and I would ever know.
I pull out a tried and true card from my middle school days, scrunching up my forehead and looking at Augustus in confusion.
“Did you hear that? It sounded like a bug or something.” I squint as if searching for a fly in the air.
“Very funny, Winter,” Julian chides.
I snap my fingers in a eureka moment. “There it is again! Such an irritating sound.”
“Don’t pay it any mind,” Augustus says, trying and failing to bite his lp to hold a chuckle.
“Don’t worry,” I tell Augustus firmly before my eyes slide to the annoying individual seated beside him. “I won’t.”
The lights dim completely, cutting away from a face that looks as untrustworthy as I had feared the first time I met him. I sometimes think back on those days, when I’d spoken to Julian at the shrine and thought I had another ally in my corner. Instead, I’d found a snake. A smart snake solely dedicated to his own desires and involved in events beyond my understanding.
The curtains rise on the stage before us. A few minutes in and I can already smell a tragedy brewing.
Two lovers from different social classes fall in love after a chance encounter, a noble daughter and a cobbler. She confesses her love to her father, but he rejects the cobbler in favor of a family friend with a son who’d just come of age. They are betrothed against her will and the cobbler is forcibly conscripted into the army due to her father’s influence. In order to become worthy of marrying his bride, the cobbler fights hard in the war, becoming injured on enemy territory and presumed dead. The noble daughter takes his death hard and throws herself from a tower to her death.
Meanwhile, he takes the chance to assassinate the enemy and becomes a lauded victor. After the war, he returns a decorated general to his beloved’s home. But all he finds are mourning shrouds and a grieving family. Right on the doorstep, he stabs the sword he used to kill his enemy into his heart, proclaiming that, “To live without my love is like living without sight, sound, touch, or emotion. I am already a corpse, but for my beating heart.” He fell to the ground, bringing the local townspeople to weep at the sorrow of unfulfilled love.
“Bootleg Romeo and Juliet,” I snort under my breath, amidst sniffles from the packed opera house. I take off an itchy opera glove so I can scratch my face without mucking up the fine silk. The set changes and the male lead and female lead emerge once again amidst clouds and are dressed in white. Apparently, now they are angels in heaven, proclaiming that at least in Helio’s realm, they may finally be together again.
“At least she is talented. What is her name?” I ask as the female lead displays an impressive vocal talent that I can appreciate from my days in my church and school choir.
But Augustus is transfixed by the performance, his eyes baring a shiny sheen that I’m all too familiar with. If this was enough to make him emotional, just imagine if he watched a sad movie from my world, like The Notebook or Titanic. There would be enough tears to fill up the fountain in Winnifred Plaza.
In boredom, I look across the row of seats in the imperial box. Julian looks similarly bored, although he’s mastered the college stare of looking attentively while his head wanders off to God knows where. Julia clutches her handkerchief to her breast and sneaks loving glances at Augustus, causing bile to rise in my throat. Empress Katya attentively watches through a pair of gilded binoculars on a stick, but no emotions flicker across her face. She’s just as good of an actor as the people on stage. Only one chair is empty, my father’s.
“I’m going to freshen up,” I say to no one in particular. “Sage. Come.” I bark as I sweep out in my tinsel-colored dress, enjoying the cooler air of the narrow halls that connect all the elevated box seats like vines.
“Yes, your highness!” she chirps as she flies after me.
“Did you see my father leave?” I ask Sage conversationally.
She nods like a woodpecker. “Yes! He exited the box around 10 to 20 minutes ago.”
“And he’s still not back?” I mutter to myself. Obviously, he did not just leave to go relieve himself.
I’m split between looking for where he may have disappeared to and just going to the lady’s room as planned. On one hand, I’m followed by a literal spy who will no doubt report whatever we find to the empress’ ear. On the other... hold on. There is no other hand. I’m getting ahead of myself again, hungering for a taste of danger after enjoying a period of tentative peace.
I shake my head and stalk towards the rest room annoyed with myself. But true to form, trouble finds me. Or rather, I find trouble, in the form of a face I thought I would never, ever see again for the rest of my life.
Lord Bromely. In the flesh.
Lightning flashes under my skin and I flinch, catching Sage by surprise. The darkened halls that still echo with song feature the men’s room and lady’s room only a couple feet apart from the each other. He leans against the wall beside the men’s room, waiting in leisure as my heartbeat kicks into overdrive.
I want to duck out of sight behind a velvet red curtain, but that would just signal to Sage that something is amiss. I see her eyes briefly wander to the older man, who is clearly standing in the hall as if waiting for something, but there is no flash of recognition.
He hasn’t spotted me yet. But there is no saying what could happen if he does notice me, and worst of all, engages me in conversation. Do I turn back? Do I keep going and pray for the best case scenario, that Lord Bromely pretends he doesn’t know who I am?
I draw a large blank when it comes to my father’s former mentor who turned him from a meek bastard son to the blood drenched conqueror he is today. Tracking his movements are near impossible with my still juvenile spy network, it’s like the man has been a ghost ever since that day he tried to entice me at the Tower. According to the webnovel, he and my father had a tumultuous end to their relationship, one that resulted in him being ousted from his cushy government role and into a life on the constant run. Yet, here he stands, a picture of good health and calculated patience.
“Your highness?” Shit. I’ve been still for too long.
Lord Bromely rises from the wall as if he heard her voice and the walls begin to cave in on me. But the door to the men’s room swings open as Finn strolls out.
“Your Eminence,” Lord Bromely greets in the deep voice that had hung at the edge of my dreams and nightmares, leaving both indistinguishable from the other.
“Thank you for waiting,” Finn, no, the Duke of Avernall, says with an easy grin that he had flashed at me a thousand times at the Rose Palace as he shakes Lord Bromely’s waiting hand. His lady friend is no where in sight. As if I am invisible, the two turn and disappear down the opposite end of the halls with obvious familiarity.