The Lout's Pet Squirrel (og alcale)

Part 15

The first thing that anyone needed when aiming to achieve a new goal was information.

Alver's paws moved soundlessly across the carpeted floors of the Henituse estate in the early morning. He had about an hour before Cale was due to wake up and he couldn't waste any time if he wanted to outwit the unpredictable.

Somehow his heart was pumping.

It was this excitement. The excitement that let him know he loved dancing on the pinhead of politics, waltzing across the tightrope of manipulation, and vaulting into void through his strength alone.

Alver thought he'd never feel like this again after losing his place. The anxiety mixed with excitement, the eagerness to succeed, and the way his thoughts raced to stay ahead of his opponents. He thought it was what made his chosen field fulfilling.

He never could have imagined that he might feel like this because of one crazy lout.

More and more, he was starting to question just how much of the things he loved about politics were necessary to achieve through politics.

But that was just background thinking, something stirring in the back of his heart while his twitching nose guided him through the halls and to his ultimate destination.

It was the smell of paint that he searched for.

He smelled it faintly on her during breakfast each day. And there were rooms in the estate that smelled thick with the stuff.

Alver turned a corner and snuck in through a crack in the door, smirking to himself as he found what he'd expected.

Violan Henituse was seated elegantly on a stool, the pre-dawn light illuminating her calm expression as she patiently caressed the canvas with her brush.

Strangely, he could really see the familial resemblance between her and Cale in that moment. And it was even more odd because they weren't blood related or in a close relationship. The shared elegance between stepson and stepmother was worthy of note however.

It was part of the reason he was here.

Alver cautiously approached silently, wanting to gather as much information as he could before he revealed himself.

The first thing that Alver needed to address with regards to the information he lacked was to locate and assess his own bias. This had been a crucial step back when he was a prince and one that was so much easier said than done. But a person simply couldn't change the hearts of others unless he was willing to really and truly understand those hearts.

To empathize with the enemy and walk a mile from someone else's perspective.

Family was a hot button issue for him though and ever since he'd arrived here, he'd been superimposing his own pain and regrets onto the Henituse family. Creating expectations of Cale from his own life experience.

Among those issues that needed addressing, there was the matter of the stepmother.

Queen Margarette wasn't Alver's stepmother. However the relationship was similar enough that he found himself creating expectations on Cale based on it. Alver was perceptive enough to recognize that Violan was nothing like Margarette. And so he'd resented Cale for not being kind to his stepmother when she was a good woman.

But a lot of that came from preconceived notions about what he knew about the Henituse family from before. Information that could easily prove erroneous. Was Violan a good woman? Or was she simply quite a bit more subtle about her cruelty?

Alver would assess the Hentiuse family with his own eyes.

Violan looked away from her painting, her ice blue eyes landing on the small creature and widening ever so slightly.

"Oh..." Her voice was softer than he was used to hearing it. At the breakfast table, Violan's voice was sharp and decisive. Quite a bit like Cale's, now that he was comparing them.

Violan placed down her paints and knelt down a careful distance from Alver, silently holding out her hand for him.

Cautiously, Alver crawled onto her palm. A slight smile tugged at her lips as she lifted him up. "Lost?" She asked in the same gentle voice that he now realized she must be using in an attempt to tame the animal. Alver watched her carefully, chittering an affirmative lie. Her smile grew and she sat back on the bench. "You mustn't get lost like this. My son really treasures you."

...was everyone in the Henituse family two-faced? Although, it wouldn't be fair to call Violan two-faced. It was just that the impression she gave was entirely different from the strict countess he'd seen before. He chittered at her curiously and she scratched behind his ear gently.

"Come. I'll take you back to him."

Hm. Not quite how he wanted to spend his hour gathering information but it did tell him that Violan did have a sincere fondness for her stepson, although she was strict to his face. Then again, with a reckless son like Cale, perhaps being strict was the best thing to do.

"I am curious though." Violan mused as she moved through the halls Alver had traversed moments ago. "Have you told him you're a beast person yet?"

Rule one of politics, never underestimate your opponent.

Alver sat in quiet shock the rest of the way to Cale's room, trying to work out if she'd just been guessing based on the squirrel's unusual behavior or if she knew something that others didn't. He gave no indication that he'd understood her words and she didn't push the matter.

Outside of Cale's door however, Alver decided it was time to take the leap into the void.

He turned to face Violan and saw in her eyes a knowing amusement.

She knew he'd come to see her on purpose.

She knew he was a beast person.

Yet, she played along. She'd probably continue to play along for as long as Alver remained in Cale's life.

"Changed your mind?" She asked, her voice quiet to avoid disturbing Cale behind the door.

Alver nodded, standing as straight as his squirrelish form would allow.

"Would you like to have morning tea with me then?"

Alver nodded again.

Violan would either be a powerful ally or a terrible enemy and it was best to learn everything she was as quickly as possible. Especially if he wanted to win his bet with Cale.

Never underestimate but never run away from a challenge.

Violan wore a cold smile. "I like the look in your eyes." She placed him down onto the ground. "Come along then, we have quite a bit to discuss."

The sort of woman who insisted that he walk on his own feet if he wanted to be treated as an equal.

Alver could respect that.

Violan was formidable and unpredictable. Yet another way she was all too similar to Cale.