Naru Henituse

Part 7

Cale forgot about Deruth.

It wasn't that he didn't love his father, far from it, his love for his family was in large part the reason he was working himself into an early grave. It was just that among the staggering amount of work that he couldn't delegate, everything from paying the servants salaries to making larger economic decisions for the territory and that was without even counting the time he needed to spend raising Naru, Cale simply hadn't been able to spare a thought for how Deruth was doing.

He couldn't really remember how his father had coped when Jour died the first time, other than the chaos attempting to revive her, and he didn't have the luxury of caring.

Cale was used to living in a world where Deruth Henituse was already dead and so it was all too easy to forget that he was an entity residing within the estate as well.

To be fair to Cale, Deruth lived the last year like a dead rat within his own home. A ghost of his former self and unable to let go of the memory of his dead wife. The anniversary of her death was the last horrible straw that broke his spirit beyond repair and he spent a month hardly eating or drinking, nearly starving himself to death in despair.

It was only when one servant asked Deruth in desperation to please think of his son's that Deruth found something to cling to.

Late December, a full year after his wife died, Deruth wondered for the first time about Cale and... the other one.

He couldn't even remember his second son's name. He was only sure it was a boy because of the servants fervent begging.

It would be easy to condemn Deruth for spending so long without concerning himself with their care but it was a far more natural thing for him to do than to take time with them. Neither Deruth nor his dearly departed wife had spent very much time with either of their son's. It was natural for nobles of their status to leave child-rearing to the nanny and to only visit their progeny if there was something important to say or the whim struck them to see the children.

Whereas losing Jour had been like losing a limb for Deruth, a constant presence ever by his side, the children were vague entities that he loved. He could recall that he visited Cale with his wife a few times and the memory burned painfully inside of him, missing her all the more because seeing their child was something that they had done together.

Deruth wasn't a horrible man, he simply embraced the culture of child-rearing that he had also been raised with. Hands off parenting where he provided the children with all the money that they could ever need and the occasional affectionate family meeting.

The Count and Countess were a happy married couple who loved one another to distraction and they had no need to raise their children directly and so they didn't. Especially since the first few years were the most difficult to deal with. So much mess and crying and tantrums. It was much easier to leave those years to the nanny, as was proper.

However, it tickled at Deruth's senses that he hadn't signed any chitties for a nanny in quite some time.

Surely the children were still being cared for though. His relatives were probably handling the matter effectively.

But the feeling nagged at him that perhaps there might have been a hiccup somewhere. Besides, perhaps he could find some trace of Jour left behind in her children. Perhaps seeing them would fill him with pleasant memories of the past.

Perhaps he could feel like she was still alive just for a moment.

So he slumped through the halls like a ghost and haunted outside of the nursery door, hesitating while he thought about how to greet them. Cale would be one thing but the other one...

Deruth bit his lip.

He knew it was wrong. He knew that the baby had done nothing wrong. But somehow he just couldn't bear the idea of looking at the creature who stole his beautiful wife from him. The crying bloody mass that the midwife had pulled from his wife's stilling body. It was too visceral. Too painful.

"Fucking piece of shit–I hope he dies in a fire after I flay the flesh from his bones!"

Deruth jumped away from the door, alarm and fear and confusion all fighting for supremacy in his thoughts. The voice had been that of a child's, despite the vulgar words spoken, but he couldn't imagine Cale or the other one saying anything so vile.

He swallowed thickly, gently opening the door so as not to make a sound and peeking inside with a morbid curiosity that filled him with fear.

A toddler with Jour's beautiful red hair was toddling with some effort toward a tiny desk where a child had his face in his hands. Cursing and glaring at whatever he was working on with such vicious vitriol. The toddler reached him and tugged at the pant leg to get his attention.

Cale tore himself away from the paperwork and picked up his baby brother, cradling the toddler in his arms as he leaned back in his chair. "Every one of those bastards is worthless."

"Worthless." The toddler agreed, plopping down comfortably in Cale's arms.

A smile tugged at Cale's lips and he gave the toddler a pat on the head. "Your pronunciation is getting better."

"Don't patr–pato–pat...don't mock me." The toddler gave up on the difficult word with a scowl and got a hearty laugh from his older brother.

"I would never dream of patronizing the young master." Cale teased and got headbutted for his sass. "...ow. You're getting stronger too."

The toddler settled down with an expression of self satisfaction. However his gaze meandered just enough to spot Deruth in the doorway.

The toddler froze.

"What's wrong?" Cale followed his line of sight and froze as well.

Deruth didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't remember how he'd handled visits to Cale when Jour was still alive. It was all hugs and warm words but somehow he felt like a trespasser.

As though he didn't belong.

Cale's jaw clenched.

"Father."

Why was it that his son sounded so distant...?