The Labyrinth Heiress

Chapter 6

Andreas~

A repeated banging on my doors wakes me up from my hazy slumber. I throw the covers over my head and groan. Last night's Drink or Dare with Rory did not go as planned.

"Andy, Mother has a guest coming in ten minutes, get your––" he barks out, but before he can finish his sentence I chuck a nearby shoe at my door to shut him up.

"Rory, I promise you if this is some sick joke, I will personally murder you in your sleep tonight," I shout from under the covers. My pounding headache along with the feeling of cotton covering the insides of my throat only intensified my regret over last night. Quickly, a set of light footsteps pad towards my door.

"Andreas? Would you please get dressed, the arrival of our guest is imminent," The muffled voice of my mother rang out, her words concise but assertive. I remove the covers from my face and crawl to the nearest pair of pants.

"Just a minute Mother," I reply hastily, shoving on last night's crumpled blouse, the top two buttons undone from the prior night's... engagements.? I slip on some shoes and swing the door open with a small smile.

"All ready," I exclaim with a grin slowly spreading across my face. She observes me as I stand before her, her gaze lingering from the soft scruff on my unshaven face, and my unruly hair, to my loose blouse and slightly crinkled pants. I wince internally. Not my best impression, especially for what I plan to propose later today.

She walks off without a word, ignoring my existence. As she strides towards her office, I trail right behind. Her heels click against the polished marble floor, sunlight from ample windows beaming light into the hall. My mother has always been slight in size, but her values and morals reflected the opposite. Her posture is impeccable, her strides succinct, and her dress is perfectly pressed. She isn't afraid of conflict and bloodshed, in fact, she embraces it.

"Mother, when you have a moment, I would like to speak to you... privately," I ask, my sunny nature slips into something significantly more serious.

"Andreas, don't you see I am busy with the arrival of our new guest? Make yourself useful and tell the maids to set up both guest bedrooms. After they arrive I'm all yours." Her tone was quick and efficient, although sparing me minimal attention. Her mind clearly elsewhere.

They?

We reach her office, and just as she's nearly inside, my mother looks back at me as if she had forgotten something. Her blonde hair shines against the morning sun, her eyes a reflection of mine. Unlike my brother, I take after her. I find it almost comical that even though I am nearly her replica, she favors him the most.

"And Andreas, my boy, clean yourself up. We desire to make a good impression, correct?" I go to respond, but the door abruptly shuts.

My fists clenched and I let out a shallow breath. I stand there motionless a few feet away from the door. I run my fingers through my hair repeatedly. I knew it was my fault. I should've acted assertively like Rory, and shown her the son she wished me to become. But I don't, I'm just...not. I have all these ideas in my head, they fill my thoughts, paralyzing me late at night.

How to rule, how to help, how to thrive.

But every time I try to piece back the folds of my life, they crumble to the floor. It's as if the existence of a fixed, comfortable life does not apply to me. I am a boy constantly searching for an answer, an adventure, a cure for this vast pit drawing me into its claws, threatening to swallow me entirely.

A deer in headlights, blindly stumbling through the dark only with hopes of being seen.

But even if visions of hope elude my head, my heart clears my consciousness to see something worth yearning for.

One day she'll know. She'll see that I am serious about my people and not just her dutiful spare of a son. That I am someone worth betting on.

Get yourself together Andreas, if not for anyone– for yourself.

As I pull away from my thoughts, I snap back into reality. But as my consciousness cleared, this time it wasn't as the boy who would shake it off and smile. Not the boy who would tolerate his mother's clear disregard for him. Not the boy who would drink away the pressure, the sorrows, the disinterest. But as someone who is driven by the hunger to succeed. A person with a singular goal beating in their head.

For the good of the kingdom.

For the good of my people.

For the good of the thieves with nothing left to lose.

Bet on me Mother, and I will not falter.

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A/N:

I feel like this is worst chapter I've ever written but please bear with me, I know this chapter is very short but the second (better ?) part will hopefully be out in the next few days. The trials are about to begin, be prepared for the long haul! If you have any suggestions, please comment them, I would love to hear them!

Love,
Luci