“By accident?” Picasso echoed in a chill tone. “We were sabotaging Ashe’s cleaning on purpose, you idiot!”
“We were?” Knuckles’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why?”
“Because…we hate Ashe!” Picasso snapped, rolling his eyes in a show of exasperation for his slow, dimwitted brother.
“Why?” Knuckles asked.
“Because father hates him! And he’s a slave. He’s beneath us.” Picasso folded his arms over his chest with a haughty expression on his face.
“But father is being nice to him again,” Knuckles pointed out. “And he’s our stepbrother.”
“Father is only being nice to Ashe to see what he can get out of him,” Picasso began to explain. “In other words, what father wants is information on his enemies. Don’t read too much into it. Nothing has changed, Knuckles. Just because Ashe is getting his ass plowed by Prince Snow doesn’t mean-”
Before Picasso could even finish that sentence Ashe punched him hard across the face. “Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about, Picasso. Prince Snow isn’t like that! Snow only has interest in the ladies, and they all find him to be irresistible because of his charm ability. No woman can resist Prince Snow’s charm…” There was a prideful note to Ashe’s voice as he praised his friend. “Well, except for a woman who’s already in love with someone else.”
A calculating glint shone in Picasso’s gray eyes as he rubbed at his sore jaw. “Charm ability, huh? How interesting.”
Ashe pressed his lips together when he realized he might have said too much about his friend. Shit.
Picasso was just opening his mouth to ask Ashe more about Snow’s charm ability when there was a knock at the front door.
“I’ll get it.” Knuckles sauntered over and opened the front door to reveal Prince Snow Flurris. Prince Snow was dressed to the nines as usual. He was wearing a dark blue shirt with puffed sleeves that had red accents, a red cape, black pants and black leather boots. Snow swaggered into the foyer, acting as though he owned the place. He removed his cape and handed it to Knuckles nonchalantly. “Greetings all!”
With a befuddled expression on his face, Knuckles took the cape and hung it on the coat rack sitting by the door.
“Hey, Snow,” Ashe greeted, giving his friend an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to need a few more minutes here.” He waved his hand at the muddy boot prints that were on the black and white checkered marble floor.
Snow glanced down at the muddy floor and clucked his tongue in a disapproving manner. “No worries. I’ll wait.” The prince turned to address Knuckles. “You there. Why don’t you make yourself useful and bring me some wine.”
“Uh…sure.” Knuckles started to walk off, heading towards the kitchen.
Picasso stopped Knuckles by putting a hand on the larger man’s shoulder. He shot Snow a glare. “We don’t take orders from you.”
Snow arched an eyebrow at Picasso. “Who do you take orders from?”
“Our father,” Knuckles replied honestly.
“And Lord Tremaine is a lord. And I am a prince,” Snow said thoughtfully. “I outrank him. So, you should be taking orders from me.” A roguish grin curled Snow’s lips.
“Makes sense,” Knuckles agreed with a nod. “I’ll go get you some wine.”
Picasso’s shoulders started to shake out of anger. “Knuckles, you can’t, you idiot-”
“I can think for myself, Picasso,” Knuckles snapped, stomping out of the entrance hall.
While Ashe resumed mopping the floor Snow gave Picasso an impatient look. “Well, don’t just stand there. Help.”
A vein started to visibly throb at Picasso’s temple and he ground his back teeth. “Inconceivable. That’s his job!” Picasso pointed a trembling finger in Ashe’s direction. “He’s the-!” Picasso bit down on his lower lip to stop himself from saying the word ‘slave’. “Whatever.” He stalked off.
Snow sighed and shook his head as he watched Picasso start to ascend the sweeping grand staircase to the second floor. “Lovely stepbrother you have there,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Ashe’s golden eyes glittered with amusement. “He’s usually a lot worse actually. You must intimidate him.”
Snow fingered one of the jeweled rings on his hand absentmindedly. “That’s what all the jewelry is for. Do you have another mop?”
Ashe paused in his mopping to gawk at Snow. “I couldn’t possibly put you to work, Your Highness.”
“Your Highness?” Snow snorted. “What happened to ‘flashy playboy bastard’?”
“That was before you saved my ass,” Ashe muttered softly.
Snow frowned. “Don’t call me ‘Your Highness’. It’s weird. We’re friends, so just call me ‘Snow’ or one of your mean nicknames.”
“Alright. Fine, Snow,” Ashe said, continuing to mop while the corner of his mouth twitched.
A few minutes later, Knuckles returned carrying a bronze and glass wine jug and a bronze goblet. Knuckles served the wine into the goblet before handing it to Prince Snow. “Here you go, Your Highness.”
“Thank you.” Snow flashed him a charming smile. “What’s your name?”
“Knuckles.”
Snow raised his goblet towards Knuckles and smirked. “Fitting.” He took a sip of wine and gave the large man a curious look. “And what do you do for a living, Knuckles?”
Knuckles scratched his head in a confused manner. “Uh…I beat people up?”
“Indiscriminately?” Snow asked, and when Knuckles only gave him a blank look he clarified: “I mean, at random?”
Knuckles chuckled lowly. “Oh…no. I only beat people up when they can’t pay Dad back the money they owe him. He’s a loan shark. And sometimes people need a little persuasion to pay up.” Knuckles punched his left open palm with his right fist.
“Ah, yes. I heard about Lord Tremaine’s profession,” Snow said. “I also heard your father has very high interest rates. Some might even say they’re outrageous.”
Knuckles lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug. “I don’t know nothing about that. But people shouldn’t borrow money if they don’t intend to pay it back. We’re not running a charity here.”
“Many of the citizens of Glass Kingdom seem to be plagued by an addiction to gambling,” Snow said, his expression turning thoughtful. “There are rumors that it may be a curse. It’s like the people who live here can’t stop gambling even if they want to.”
Knuckles nodded. “A lot of people owe my Dad money. Including…” He glanced at Ashe, and then shut his mouth to stop whatever he was about to say next.
Snow took another sip of wine. “This wine is superb. What’s its vintage?”
Knuckles shrugged. “Don’t know. But Dad said it was expensive.”
Snow gave the large man a curious look. “Won’t your father be angry you gave the wine to me?”
“No. You’re a prince. Only the best should be served to royalty,” Knuckles said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “And my Dad wants to know your weaknesses and your deepest, darkest secrets.”
Ashe shot Knuckles a disbelieving look. That dumb fuck…
Snow didn’t appear to be too bothered by Knuckles’s words. In fact, he appeared amused. “Does he now? Well, you can tell your father I have no weaknesses, except for the ladies and wine, of course-”
“Snow!” Ashe interrupted in a warning voice.
Snow chuckled at the worried expression on Ashe’s face. “What? Don’t be such a worrywart, Ashe. I doubt Lord Tremaine will try to poison me. Poison is a woman’s weapon. And as for the ladies, well, none can resist me because of my charm.” Snow held his chin in his hand and struck a gallant pose.
“I don’t know what Lord Tremaine is and isn’t capable of,” Ashe said. “I wouldn’t put poisoning past him.”
“Father wouldn’t do something cowardly like that!” Knuckles snapped, clenching his hands into fists at his sides.
Ashe gave Knuckles
an incredulous look. “God. You really are as dumb as a rock.”
Knuckles bristled with anger at the insult, and was about to punch Ashe in the face when Snow placed a hand on his arm. “Do you have a spare mop around here, Knuckles?”
“What would you need a mop for?” Knuckles asked, giving Snow a confused look.
“To help Ashe finish cleaning up this mess, of course,” Snow explained. “We have somewhere we need to be, and we’re already running late.”
“Oh. I’ll do it,” Knuckles offered in a gruff voice. Ashe stared at Knuckles in disbelief as the large man stretched his hand out to him in an expectant manner. “Give it here.”
With a dazed expression on his face, Ashe reluctantly handed Knuckles the mop. “I must be dreaming.”
Snow patted Knuckles on the back. “Hey, thanks, man. I really appreciate it!”
Knuckles beamed at the prince and looked incredibly pleased. “Anytime, Your Highness.” Knuckles started to fidget nervously, and opened and closed his mouth a few times before he gathered his courage to speak. “Er…Prince Snow, do you think I could, um, get your autograph, maybe, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble?”
Snow’s eyes flared in surprise before he grinned. “Sure, man.” He whipped out a piece of parchment, signed his name on it using a magically refilling ink quill, and handed it to Knuckles. “Here you go.”
Knuckles looked down at the signature with a starry-eyed expression on his chubby face. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
“Let us depart, Ashe,” Snow said, heading for the front door.
“Er…sure,” Ashe said, quickly running after Snow. He still couldn’t believe how weird Knuckles was acting. “Are you sure your charm ability doesn’t work on men too?” Ashe whispered to Snow in a teasing tone.
Snow let out a low chuckle. “No way, man. He’s just a fan. I blame the Glass Gazette.”
Snow exited the château followed close behind by Ashe. Ashe had been expecting to see a couple of horses waiting for them or even a horse-drawn carriage. He definitely hadn’t been expecting to see a horse-drawn wagon. “What the fuck?”
Snow casually hopped up onto the driver’s seat and grabbed the reins. “Stop dillydallying, Ashe.”
Ashe hopped up onto the seat next to Snow. “What’s in the back? Oh.” Ashe looked over his shoulder and saw that the back of the wagon was filled with shiny, red apples. “What’s with all the apples?”
“You’ll see. It’s a surprise. You’re going to love it,” Snow said smugly, but then a dark cloud fell over his face for a moment as he remembered something unpleasant. “I haven’t gotten to go there in quite a while due to the continued attempts on my life. It just wasn’t safe. But with you tagging along I have nothing to worry about.”
“So I’m here as your bodyguard?” Ashe asked.
“And friend. Yep,” Snow agreed.
Ashe placed a hand on the hilt of the Glass Sword. “I don’t mind. Anything to get me out of the château and away from my so-called family.”
“Picasso seems like an asshole, but Knuckles doesn’t seem so bad,” Snow said, stroking his chin in a pensive manner. “Just a bit dim.”
Ashe considered raining on Snow’s ‘I can see the good in people parade’ by telling him how Knuckles enjoyed beating him up when he was strapped to a St. Andrew’s cross. But ultimately Ashe decided against destroying the hopeful look on Snow’s face, and made a noncommittal grunt. “Hm. Well, he sure seemed to like you.”
Snow rubbed the back of his neck in an embarrassed fashion. “It’s the bloody Glass Gazette. They have nothing interesting to write about so they write countless articles about my personal life. Bit annoying really. People think they know me as a result. But they don’t. Not the real me, at least. It’s no wonder it was the villains that invented the printing press.”
“You don’t like all the attention?” Ashe asked skeptically.
“No, not really. Maybe at first, but now…after the attacks on my life I’d prefer a little privacy.” Snow sighed. “Also, whatever girl I go out with ends up in the papers. Some girls are just after me for their five minutes of fame. They just want their name and picture in the papers. None of them really want me. They want the idea of me. It makes it hard for a guy to find anything real.”
Ashe’s eyes narrowed on Snow. “Whoa, wait a second. Are you saying you’ve never been in love before?”
Snow shook his head. “I’ve been with a lot of women, and had a lot of sex. And I do love sex, but…as for ‘love’. I’ve never felt it for any of them. I’ve never been with a girl I couldn’t live without. And I don’t think they’ve felt love for me either. Maybe in the end I’m…unlovable or something.” Snow’s tone was lighthearted, but Ashe could tell how much this bothered him.
Ashe patted Snow’s arm awkwardly. “That’s ridiculous. You just haven’t met the right woman. That’s all.”
Snow gave Ashe a hopeful look. “You really think so?”
“I know so,” Ashe said firmly.
“Here I am taking advice from a man who hates women…” Snow said, shaking his head in wonderment. “Well, except for maybe that pretty stalker of yours. Think she’s following us right now?”
“Probably,” Ashe said.
“Did you ever get to see her face?” Snow gave his friend a curious look, and when Ashe blushed his eyes widened. “You have! So…how is she? Hot? Not?”
“She’s very…” Ashe trailed off as he tried to find the right word to describe a girl with eyes like diamonds. “Otherworldly.”
“Just stick to words like ‘pretty’, ‘beautiful’, or ‘sexy’,” Snow advised, patting his back in a patronizing manner. “Well, good for you. I’m happy for you, Ashe.” There was a mischievous twinkle in Snow’s sapphire-blue eyes. “It would have sucked if she were an old hag!”
Ashe smacked Snow upside the head. “Don’t be a superficial bastard,” he chided.
“Ow!” Snow laughed. “Or maybe you like wrinkly, old women…” This comment earned Snow another smack to the back of his head. Snow let out a whimper. “Okay. I’ll stop now. Geez.” The playboy prince wiped a tear from his eye, and suddenly he noticed that Ashe was carrying a bag. “What’s in the bag?”
Ashe’s blush deepened. “A present for Julie.”
“You got your stalker a present?” Snow exclaimed in surprise. “Let me see!” He made a grab for the bag.
Ashe quickly pulled the bag out of Snow’s reach. “No. You don’t get to see it first. It’s for Julie. Not you. And I didn’t get it for her. I made it.”
“Stingy.” Snow pouted as he continued to drive the wagon down the road into the forest. By this time they were in Apple Kingdom’s forest and it took another hour before they reached a small, white stucco church that was quite literally out in the middle of nowhere.
Outside of the church there was a group of children running around and playing tag. Ashe estimated their ages to be around five to twelve years old.
The corner of Ashe’s mouth quirked into a smile. The happy atmosphere the kids were creating was contagious. “What is this place?”
“An orphanage,” Snow revealed with a note of pride in his voice.
“For young witches and wizards…” Ashe murmured as he watched a few of the children performing simple spells.
“Actually, it’s a mix of magical and non-magical kids,” Snow revealed, and upon noticing Ashe’s astonished expression continued to explain. “This orphanage is for all the orphans that were created during Reginald’s war against the dullards, who originally owned this land and ruled Apple Kingdom.”
“War orphans,” Ashe breathed sympathetically. “How did you find out about this place?”
A lascivious smile curled Snow’s lips. “I heard rumors that a very pretty nun was taking care of some war orphans with only the help of an elderly priest. I decided that I would make her acquaintance, and put her vows of celibacy to the test.” Snow waggled his eyebrows at Ashe in a lecherous manner.
> “You seduced a nun!” Ashe said in a scandalized toned.
Snow let out a boisterous chuckle. “No way! Sister Avaron is very devoted to God. She loves God, and so my charm ability doesn’t work on her. After my failed romancing attempt, we became friends, but I was so amazed that magic and non-magic children were getting along here so easily. You see, no one has ever told them that ‘magic users are evil’ or that ‘non-magic users are lesser beings’. They don’t harbor the prejudices and ill will that the adults in Apple Kingdom have.”
Ashe’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But are the witches and wizards really safe here? I thought the Church frowned upon magic.”
“You’re referring to The Inquisition,” Snow said. “That’s just a group of religious fanatics that hunt down and kill witches and wizards for sport. Father Abellio and Sister Avaron are very open-minded and kindhearted. In their eyes magical and non-magic children are all children of God. They don’t turn their back on anyone who needs their help.”
“If the magical children are not in danger from the Inquisition…what about the dullard children being in danger from Apple Kingdom’s wizard knights?” Ashe asked. “If they’re discovered here…won’t they be enslaved?”
A shadow fell over Snow’s face, and his grip on the reins tightened until his knuckles turned white. “Even if they are discovered here I won’t allow these dullard children to be enslaved.”
“I’ve been wondering about this for a while now, but…why don’t you hold a prejudice against dullards?” Ashe asked, giving his friend a scrutinizing look.
Snow let out a bittersweet chuckle. “As you know, my magic never worked for me. I’ve lived most of my life as a dullard. The only magical ability I seemed to possess was my charm ability. But that changed when we fought against that chimera monster in Rose Kingdom and my powers finally awakened.”
Ashe nodded. “Now it makes sense why you never looked down on me for being a dullard.”
“Well, you’re pretty badass for a dullard,” Snow teased.
Loud giggling drew Ashe’s attention to a twelve-year-old boy seated in a wheelchair. A girl around the same age as him was pushing his wheelchair quickly across the grass. Ashe was surprised the other children appeared to be letting the boy in the wheelchair participate in their game of tag.
Ashe and the Glass Sword Page 21