Mess of a life

12- Sinking in

"Does that look like a proper time to come back?" The cold voice of Nicolas greeted us when we crossed the threshold.

From our brief meeting in Paris, I only kept a vague impression of cold. He didn't say much to me, occupied in handling professionally my trip to the homeland. He treated me like a business deal, efficiently and without much emotion. I was just another case to solve among the pile on his desk.

Now that I saw him at home, I couldn't say my first impression was wrong.

He was sitting in the living area at the front of the house, ironically the one I had met my three youngest older brothers at. Charles was next to him standing by the window as the eldest brother was on the couch, an open laptop on his lap. He looked regal. Back straight, legs crossed, at ease and yet alert. At home. The King was undeniably back, and he knew how to occupy his space. His attention was completely on the small group we formed in the entryway, his chilling eyes seeming to petrify me on my spot. Despite it being near ten, he was dressed formally in pants and a shirt, not a button nor hair out of place.

"Chill out man, we just showed her a bit of the city." Answered lightly Elliott, stepping inside the living room and plopping down on the couch without a single care. I wondered if we were seeing the same person. The blood-freezing look he got in return to his words would have made me curl up on myself or flee.

"Good evening, Camille." He turned to me, and I froze like a deer caught in headlights.

"Hum, hello." I answered unsurely. My voice came out a little squeaky. I cringed internally. I had seen better second-first impressions, but between the hospital and now he really must think he had a weakling of a sister.

"Welcome to your new home, though I don't doubt your other brothers have already told you. I believe we have much to discuss, would you like us to talk now, or later?" He spoke calmly, his gaze not leaving me for an instant, and I felt like I was on a trial.

"Thanks-"

"Let her rest first", interrupted Charles. "She had a long day, and she was sick this morning."

Nicolas' cool gaze travelled to him. He'd moved from his post by the window to stand next to the coffee table, closer to us.

"Sick?" The word sounded foreign in his mouth.

Charles nodded, but I cut in before he could dramatise any further. It seemed like an exaggeration to call a bit of fatigue and a few coughs 'being sick'.

"It's nothing, I'm okay." I was proud of my voice for coming out stronger, though it still sounded frail next to my brother's deep voices.

"Darling, your health is not a matter to dismiss as carelessly", was Nicolas' cold response. Even the term of endearment, which I would have found cute in any other circumstances, wasn't enough to make him sound friendly.

I shut up, recoiling in my mental shell. His whole presence was unnerving, and I was conscious of every flaw I presented to his eyes. He looked like a man who didn't accept anything below perfection.

"Go freshen up, I will talk to you after." He concluded, immediately turning his focus on the next thing in his mental to-do list. He closed his laptop. "Elliott, a word."

If I thought he sounded cold when talking to me, then this was below freezing. With a nod of his chin, he instructed his brother to get up, which he did unhurriedly. They both excited the room, passing next to me in the process, and I tensed even more. I swear I could feel cold emanating from my oldest brother's body.

Charles went to leave the room too, winking when he passed next to me.

"Nice outfit."

I blushed, but followed right after him, not wanting to be left alone with Dane.