The Red King [Book II]

XIII

James was in the cellar again. More accurately, he was in the attic that the cellar tunnelled up to, by the glass lamb. It glowed dark from the outside torches below, like blood.

ㅤJames had always thought this space to be empty, which was why he'd favoured it. But, this time, he'd stumbled over a loose floorboard, discovering it lifted by design—a concealed cache.

ㅤHe sat on the floor, a lamp flickering next to him, threads of light creeping outwards. With trembling hands, he cradled the booklet he'd found inside.

ㅤOn the front, faded letters angrily etched out Fabian's childhood nickname: Fable.

ㅤJames wasn't sure how long he'd sat there, unmoving, staring at the word. It hadn't been the only contents, but it'd been what he'd taken out first, and the weight of the small book had chained him from sifting through the rest.

ㅤHe hadn't expected to react this way. He'd been surrounded by Fabian's belongings since the day he'd arrived, successfully ignoring it all. Yet this had snapped him awake.

ㅤEverything else, the palace, the decoration, was the casket, but this was a piece of him. An echo of Fabian's heart— a part that hadn't burnt with the rest of his body.

ㅤHis thumb delicately stroked the cover, the flame wavered, and James curled up on himself, holding his head up with his knees, the book pressed to his chest in an attempt to refill it.

ㅤThe silence stung. James released a low breath and straightened.

ㅤThat emotionally messy little boy with grassy green eyes hadn't existed for a long time already. He'd killed himself long before James came along.

ㅤHe returned it to the box on top of a brick of documents, crumpled together in a rush, the string untying itself. It could prove to be important if it was hidden.

ㅤJames didn't feel emotions, so he bit down against what threatened to well up. Where his hand usually clenched Eris, it fisted nothing, the skin of his palm thick and stiff. But it was fine.

ㅤDownstairs, James took the box under his arm. This late at night, only the odd patrolling guard and mercenary trudged around, chuckling quietly within their pairs. When they spotted James, they would flinch and nod—a better response than before. Fletcher slowly replacing the soldiers was good for cohesion, even if it meant they were less skilled. It was a little less dangerous now.

ㅤAlex was safer.

ㅤJames was going to squirrel his find in his office. He unlocked the anteroom but immediately noticed Alex's door was ajar, a dim light glowing from within. Pausing, he heard the turning of pages and a deep thoughtful mutter inside.

ㅤAlex.

ㅤJames hid the box in the ceiling of his office, before returning. At the crack of Alex's door, he peered in.