by Isu Yin
He tilted his head. “Don’t jump, right?”
“What?”
“No?”
“Well, you’re not wrong.”
“I thought so.” His light, tight-lipped smile, strangely enough, lacked joy. That’s not to say he didn’t express anything, but simply that Fate failed to grasp what he felt at that moment.
She examined him from head to toe, unable to determine the source of her discomfort. The feeling eventually passed and she returned to her train of thought. “I know this is our first time formally meeting, but I need your help, and I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to ask again. I was sold to this brothel when I was seven. My father is keeping me here so he can marry me once I’ve matured.” She lifted two fingers. “There are only two ways for me to get out of here. The first is that I can get your father involved, and the second... is if Abyssus dies.”
“If you’re hoping to involve my father, then you’re making a mistake.” His expression relaxed in a way that appeared vacant. There was no light in his eyes, no emotion in his gaze, just a hollow shell where she expected to find a person.
At this rate, I’m going to lose my grip on him.
“I’m not asking your father, I’m asking you.”
His eyes moved back and forth over her face, studying every pore. “You don’t know me. How do you know you can trust me?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
He glimpsed down the hallway towards the theatre lights, which glowed dimly in the distance. He might’ve been watching for his father, or maybe he had the sense to check for informants. “What is your request?”
“I’d like to speak about this in more detail, but the only way I can do that is if I can get inside Nitor Palace.”
“You need an invitation.” He easily comprehended the dilemma, for someone so detached.
The Madam’s voice reverberated through the hallway. She called out for Fate, and her shadow appeared outside the theatre doors.
Fate crept farther down the corridor, pulling Hero along behind her. “Quickly.” They snuck around the corner into the courtyard, and entered the storehouse.
His calm indifference continued. “My father will come for me soon, so say what you must.”
“I can tell you the rest if you get me into the palace. I can’t trust you with everything, not yet.”
He cracked a smile. “Since there is still time, why did you stop me from jumping that day?”
Her thoughts spun in reverse, reaching to that distant day for answers. “It was the right thing to do.”
A deep line formed between his brows. “The right thing? You don’t know me.”
“So? Does that I mean I should watch you die?”
I realized that Hero of Nitor was not the person I expected him to be. In letters, he was both eloquent and thoughtful, but in real life, there was something very strange about his mind.
Often, he wore an unusual expression. His lips would part as though he intended to say something, but nothing ever came out. Due to this unexpected trait, a fear rose in me that Hero might find it displeasing to speak with his father.
I thought, ‘this person is going to be the death of me.’
Hero turned at the sound of his father’s call. “I have to go.” In the blink of an eye, he disappeared from the storehouse.
“Wait!” Fate dropped to her knees and clutched her head.
I only have a few months. What am I going to do? I’d rather die fighting than surrender to that man. Someone has to change this kingdom. Is this how the Lady Ulnaire felt when Solaris left her? Why is this person so unpredictable?
For a time, she sat in the storehouse just contemplating her future. “What have I done?”
The door to the storehouse opened and the light flicked on. The burst of light caused her temporary blindness and pain.
Tori shrieked. “Fate, you scared me! What are you doing in here? Madam has been looking everywhere for you! Did you say goodbye to your brother?”
“I’m not feeling well.”
“Shall I call the Madam?”
“No, I’m going to rest.” The night may have gone well, but it didn’t make Fate feel any better about her predicament. Everything she’d expected had turned out to be completely different, especially Hero.
She stood below the high window at the end of the hallway and gazed up at the glowing white haze around the moon. “Please, help us find our way.”
The morning light stabbed at Fate’s eyes and head as she fought her way out of the tangled blankets, groaning. The thickest cover remained wrapped around her long hair and head, blocking her view beyond the ceiling.
Hero leaned over her, his white hair and pale skin reflecting the light like snow. His voice sounded steady, unwavering, and yet he spoke in a murmur. “Morning.”
She cranked her head and studied him from another angle. He seemed to her a mere illusion after she had failed to coerce him the previous night. “You’re like a snowflake.”
“Pardon?”
“You’re small, white, and you glow in the sun.” In her drowsy trance, this joke struck a chord of amusement and she laughed much harder than expected.
His mint-colored eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly, and he flicked her hard between the eyes.
The pang snapped her awake and she clawed out of the blankets, rolling and thrashing. She stumbled over and leaned against her vanity several feet away.
“Good, you’re awake.” He sounded unaffected.
“Wha—Why? You’re real. What are you doing here?”
“The invitation. He said yes. It was your idea.” He tilted his head.
This time, she mimicked him. “Are you true?”
“Truer than you.”
She covered her legs with her robes and patted her hair into place. “Um, okay. Well, I’ll get dressed, and we can talk on the way to the palace.”
“Aren’t you?” He inspected her, half-pointing to her night robes. By the sound of it, he spoke very little, even if it meant his remarks lacked clarity.
She understood his question anyway and responded naturally. “Praise be, this is no way to visit the palace. I only have simple gowns, but they will have to do for now.”
He stretched out his neck, lowered his eyes as if sneaking another glance, and then left to stand against the wall just outside her room.
He seems confused. What a strange person.
She dug through her dresser for a change of attire, removed her robes, and slipped a black gown on over her head. From the corner of her eye, she watched Hero.
He stood silently and observed the building, presumably the screens that encompassed the entire wall. From a distance, a bright red scarf obscured part of his face, so it proved difficult to see his expression. Not that this mattered; both his expression and voice were fixed, conveying either detachment or indifference towards everything and everyone.
Fate had questions about him because she grew up in the brothel, where men always imposed upon her and her sisters. The girls knew to be wary of people with vague intentions, or lacking characteristics.
Praise be, maybe he’s a sociopath! Abyssus should’ve known this. Why didn’t he tell me? No, I shouldn’t judge someone I don’t know. I’m being ridiculous.
She soon joined Hero in the hall and they passed the decorative screens towards the bustling street outside. When the front door slid open, she breathed in the crisp winter air, full of charcoal and spices.
His eyes traced her carefully, as if asking: What are you doing?
“It smells like winter! It’s so crisp.”
“You like it,” he said, more a confirmation than a question.
“I do.”
He removed the red scarf and draped it over her head like a hood. “Sorry.”
“What for?” She followed the looping knitted pattern with her hands.
Instead of replying, he lifted his hand in a flicking gesture.
“Oh, it’s okay.” She disliked dwell
ing on negative subjects. If a conversation took a turn for the worse, she simply began a new one. “Why do you wear a scarf? You don’t get cold, do you?”
“A gift,” he said. He shifted his eyes towards the street and back to Fate, and then clarified. “From Abyssus.”
A black band wound around his neck, peeking out from the collar of his dress shirt. Fortuna called them chokers, but his differed somehow.
Fate sensed it served a different purpose, because Hero didn’t seem like the type of person to wear something without a good reason. After all, he barely spoke even with a good reason. “What about that?”
He touched the band the way one might brush their fingers across memorabilia, with a sort of soft appreciation. “Abyssus.” He continued studying her as they walked. His stare wasn’t as evasive as those of the men at the brothel, just full of curiosity. “You’re Iu.”
“Why do you ask?”
“You’re small,” he said, even though he was only a few inches taller.
Her retort came all too easily. “So are you. If I’m not mistaken, aren’t Caeles usually tall?”
He squinted at her and delivered a snide reply. “So you’re an expert.”
“Abyssus tells me all kinds of interesting facts.”
His mouth twisted from side to side. “I’m Fox Clan, not Wolf Clan. Don’t belittle me.”
She filled in the gaps of his sentences as he spoke: I am part of the Fox Clan, not the Wolf Clan. She really didn’t know the difference between one clan and the other. By context, one group must’ve been smaller.
He guided her past all the stores and stands, occasionally glancing at them and twiddling his thumbs.
His odd habits drew her focus and caused her to question each behavior. “Hero, do you want to go and look?”
He shook his head.
They shortly arrived at the palace gates and faced inspection from the posted guards, who concentrated on searching Fate. One of them put his hand on Hero’s scarf and glanced back at him for some kind of confirmation.
What, does he think I stole it?
Hero just gave his tight-lipped smile.
Its shape gave Fate the idea to start calling it the ‘U’ smile, which, truthfully, caused discomfort instead of reassurance.
Once the guards finished, she followed more closely behind Hero, to avoid further confrontation.
Another soldier standing by the entrance stopped them from entering. “Prince Hero, please take the Lady Fate through the side door.”
They glanced at each other, and Hero withdrew without argument. He led her through a side gate where a small, grassy courtyard lay beside another pair of doors to the palace.
The white panes brought out the mosaic glass so nicely that she stopped and admired it.
“Come,” he said, leaning out of the next doorway with his recurrent lacking expression.
Something about his demeanor reminded her of a child, maybe the awkwardness or simply his careless way of moving.
She held the door open and strode into the palace. The interior radiated as much light from its white décor as Hero had when he first appeared that morning. It differed completely from the dismal Macellarius, which seemed as though a demonic overlord had ruled over it, instead of her father.
She thought this might be an insult to any being who perceived her thoughts.
Fortunately, only Hero stared back at her with surprising innocence and curiosity. His gaze questioned her decision to glance at him... until footsteps echoed down the hallway. As the sound surfaced, he twitched and turned to face a maid skipping down the hallway.
Her long, brown braids swayed from behind a stack of towels as she approached a closet, next to a room on the opposite side.
Fate had already decided to ignore the maid, when the girl turned sharply.
The maid’s voice pierced the air in delight. “Oh, Hero! I’ve missed you!” Her hands wrapped around his wrists like vines. “You’d never guess what happened! This morning while I was trimming the hedges, I came across a wolf pup!”
Hero’s eyes opened wide. “What? Where? I want it.”
Her smile faded as she noticed Fate. “This is....”
“Fate,” he answered. “Focus, Lola.”
Fate glared at him. “At least introduce us properly. You can stalk your pup later.”
The maid gripped his scarf. “Did you take this from him?”
This again? Why would I take it? He’s standing right here.
His lips curled down in an expression that resembled a pout. “But I’m here.”
She shook a finger at Fate. “I know you. You’re the former Princess of Macellarius.” With a nod, the maid scoffed. “Isn’t it ironic that we should meet this way, when you so coldly left us to die in the street?”
He gently guarded Fate with his arm. “Stop. You can’t blame her for something that happened when she was a child.”
Fate watched carefully, curious about his reaction. It was the first time he had spoken more than three or four words at a time since the start of the morning.
When the maid realized she couldn’t get past him, she said, “She watched us freeze to death from the warmth of the palace!”
Fate remembered watching, but never closely enough to note the details of a citizen’s life. The balcony was too far to see everything that happened. She slipped between Hero’s arm and side. “Who are you?”
The maid answered, “My name is Lara. I grew up in Macellarius... at least, until I was rescued and brought to Nitor.”
I thought Hero called her Lola. Did I hear her wrong, or him?
Fate bowed. “I am very sorry to hear that you suffered in Macellarius, but I am glad to know that you now live here. I no longer live in the palace. I am a courtesan at the brothel.”
Lara averted her gaze. “Maybe now you understand what it feels like to be cast aside.”
By the time Fate lifted her head, Lara had gone into a room by the closet. The door slammed shut, leaving a wake of awkward silence.
Hero lifted a hand towards Lara’s bedroom door and scrunched his nose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize she felt that way.”
Fate reassured him with a smile. “Well, it wasn’t all bad. You’re talking a lot more now.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose until there was a small red spot. “I tried telling you before, but my father isn’t here. He doesn’t come around often.”
“Even though you’re here?” She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. Any mention of King Niteo turned Hero cold and distant.
“We can talk in the library,” he said, opening the door behind them.
The room teemed with books organized neatly on built-in shelves. A red sitting chair rested beside a fireplace and a standing lamp.
Fate bent down to read some of the book titles. “Seems dangerous to have all this paper next to a fireplace.” She plunked down on the chair, powerless to reach the floor. Her feet dangled over the edge while the rest of her petite body sank into the cushion.
Hero sat on the arm of the chair. “If you’re not here to see my father, then why have you come?”
“To see you, obviously.”
He tilted his head instead of asking why.
“I want to make a deal,” she said, reading into his mannerisms.
“A bargain?”
“Word has it you’re next in line to be High King. I don’t suppose you’ve heard the rumors about me?”
He raised a brow, but didn’t say anything.
“What if I told you I’m the Lost Heiress?” She had no confirmation of this, but she always used bits and pieces of information to pry answers out of people. The truth usually had a way of revealing itself. “I was supposed to marry Prince Kyou.”
“So?”
She bounced back quickly, despite her surprise. “I want your help to restore this kingdom.”
His eyes wandered again, and he stared at some distant place. “You probably don’t realize it, but I’
m the last person you should be asking. Did Kyou put you up to this, or was it Fortis?”
She sank back into the sitting chair with a sigh. “You know Prince Kyou?”
“Yeah, and he wouldn’t marry you.”
“Why not?”
“Haven’t you heard? He’s the Wayward Prince.” His mouth twitched as though concealing a smile.
Something about this gave Fate the impression she had slipped up. “The what?”
“In short, he’ll bed anyone he deems acceptable.”
She stopped herself from glaring at him. “You’re too pretty to speak like that.”
He partially opened his mouth, but nothing came out. For a moment, his throat made a strange sound, as if about to expel words, and then he gave up and closed his mouth again.
“Sorry for prying,” she said. “I’ll stop asking questions for now.”
He leaned forward, looking at her very closely. “You remind me of Abyssus. He’s a prattler too.”
“Prattler?”
“An incessant talker.”
Her cheeks burned furiously. “I’m not a prattler!”
“I don’t know how you’re expecting me to help you. I can’t leave the palace without permission, and you hardly know me. What would you do if I was tainted?”
“I don’t think you’d ask me that if you were.”
He flashed his ‘U’ smile and stepped down from the arm of the chair to scan the book titles. “Lady Fate, what do you know about Undal?”
“You mean the Old World? It’s just a myth, isn’t it?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Is it?”
“That’s what everyone says.” Tales of the Old World had arisen during Fate and Abyssus’ studies of the Grim. Only children and the old still believed that it once existed.
Hero frowned at her response. “You’re surprisingly pure of heart, unlike Abyssus.”
She scowled at his suggestion. “What are you suggesting?”
He removed a thin book from the shelf. “Perhaps you don’t know him as well as you think.”
“Then tell me what you believe about the world, and my brother.”
He sat down beside her on the cushion. “I started doing that a long time ago.”