The Serenader

Chapter 5

Atlas' POV
In the middle of a sentence, my father stopped addressing me and turned his attention to the door.

"Did I miss something?" He asked, that strange mixture of confusion and humor showing on his face again.

I looked over in that direction. Blythe, Cal, Des, and Eclipse all stood by the doorway, covered head-to-toe with dust. Needless to say, that's not entirely how I expected the family reunion to go.

"I found them," Blythe said plainly, skipping over any details. Behind her, Cal, who had grown nearly six inches since I saw her last, looked a little unsteady on her feet. She leaned on the wall, and I worried she might collapse. Clearly, there was a story that nobody was eager to share.

"Where were you?" I asked. "Six feet underground?"

"Something like that-"

"Enough," our dad cut in, and I figured it was probably best to leave it at that. "We have a lot to do in the next two days without such childish behavior."

That seemed a bit unfair, seeing as Des and Eclipse hadn't yet reached adolescence. It was obvious that something had changed since I'd left, something in our father that made my siblings all wary of him. I made a mental note to ask Blythe about that later.

"What needs to be done?" I prompted, changing the subject.

"You know what you have to do," he replied to me. "I know what I have to get done." He turned towards my siblings, still clustered at the door. "The rest of you, help with what you can. I expect you to dress in your most formal attire. If the servants need assistance with anything, you do not hesitate. Do you understand me?"

His voice carried echoes of his glory days in the military, the days before he'd married into the crown; the days where he was just a Phyrgian Noble. After the wedding - based on love and not power - he and Queen Cadence had ruled as one for years, until my mother had been found dead at the conclusion of a voyage to Lydia. That was twelve years ago. We were never given any answers beyond the suspected heart attack. At times like this, where her throne sat inescapably empty next to his, it was impossible not to wonder about it. But those were just whispers of another time, not worth all the pain and grief they caused.

Cal was the first to answer, seemingly fully recovered from her dizzy spell. "We understand," she said, speaking for all of us.

I tore my gaze away from the empty dais. Cal seemed different now, but I suppose that applied to everyone. I had been gone for such a long time, longer than I had realized. Cal wasn't thirteen anymore; the twins were no longer nine. And Blythe and I, we were both old enough to marry, not that either of us even wanted to think about that. Hell, my father even expected me to do jobs never entrusted to a prince before. Things were changing. Things had changed. Now I had to accept that.

Later that day, I made my way up to the oratory, the worship room on the very top of one of the towers. Its entire west wall was made of stained glass. During sunset, it lit the room with streaks of blues and reds and yellows in a way that made my head spin. I had waited to come
up here until now just to see it again.

I curled my fingers around the small matchstick in my hand. What I had to do wasn't hard, per se, but it was intimidating in its own way. Up against the window was a small table holding seven candles, six forming a circle and one in the center. They were each a different height from the amount of times they had been lit.

Each one of the candles represented a region. The candle in the center of the circle, the smallest one and the oldest one, stood for Ionia. Then Doria and Phrygia started the circle, the next oldest regions. It continued like that all around, forming a kind of spiral staircase, until Locria, the newest region. That candle was the tallest, barely ever lit. It looked strange next to Doria, whose candle was almost as short as Ionia's.

Carefully, I lit the Ionian candle. My hands were trembling, but I kept the match steady enough. Slowly, I went around in a circle, lighting each one. As my hand hovered over the Aeolian candle, the sixth one and second-to-tallest, I was stopped by Blythe.

"I didn't expect to find you here," she said. I didn't answer, so she nodded toward the candles and asked, "Are you supposed to?"

"Yes, I am." I blew out the matchstick, even though my job wasn't finished. "How'd you know I was here?"

Blythe shook her head. "Cal. She's nearly psychic these days - told me you were hiding something."

I wasn't sure what to make of that. "Well... am I?"

The question lingered in the air for a moment, then two, three. Finally, she said, "I think we all are."

I asked the obvious question. "What are you hiding?"

She picked at her ruby necklace. Suddenly everything strange that had happened since I'd returned clicked into place: Blythe's casual conversation with me, her uptight attitude with my father, my father's insistence that she wear heeled shoes - it all made sense.

"You're engaged," I realized.

She nodded, confirming my suspicions. "To some Aeolian Noble. I barely know his name." After a moment, she added in a hushed voice, "I'm not in love."

"Why?" I asked, my voice tense. "Why is he rushing you like this?"

Blythe sighed. "I haven't the slightest idea."

"You can refuse," I said. "You don't have to do this."

"I've tried. So far all I've done is lose his favor."

"I doubt that's true." I relit the matchstick with the oil lamp on the wall, then turned to light the last two candles. When all seven were burning brightly, I turned to check the room for any stray flammable materials. The area was clear.

"Be glad you left," Blythe said, a bit spitefully, and understandably so. "This isn't the castle we grew up in. Father... he's forgetting. About her."

"You don't mean that."

"I do," she said. "Wholeheartedly. Do you remember what it used to be like? How the hallways would echo with the melodies from her music room? How we could walk in there whenever we wanted, and mother would always let us poke around at the piano or pluck the violin?"

"Of course I do." That room was the setting of many of my fondest childhood memories.

"Well, he doesn't - not anymore. Have you gone into the music room since you came home?"

"I haven't had the time," I said, my mind reeling. "The second I got home, I bumped into you."

Blythe turned to go, her shoes clicking rhythmically on the staircase. "When you do have some spare time," she called over her shoulder, "I suggest you take a look."

"I will," I answered, even though I knew she couldn't hear me.