𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝟎𝟎𝟑

That day, you had forgotten to give him the sweet treats you had packed. And even as the next day rolled by, you found yourself forgetting — again. All you had brought then was a flimsy little stack of cards that you guys had played merrily with. Silas had won every round, much to your chagrin.

So the next day, as you made your way to the palace once more — this marked your fourth meeting with Silas — you consciously reminded yourself to bring the food out.

You were spending an awful lot of time with Silas. Your father's business meetings in the palace stretched for a long period of time. You found yourself in the palace with Silas for five to six hours, with him occasionally disappearing to do random things. Silas told you that he had to show his face at times to assure people he wasn't up to no good — for example, burning the palace down. You were slightly alarmed by that, but you didn't pay it any mind.

But this time, much to your relief, you had brought the fruits and biscuits.

"I brought food," you told Silas.

You would have expected for the Imperial Palace to be surrounded by guards, but to your surprise, Silas and you were completely alone, if not shrouded by bushes. It was peaceful and quiet — at that moment, all you could hear was the occasional chirping of birds as well as the rustling of leaves. You two had made your way to your usual spot, which was a small spot in the Imperial Garden.

The garden was scenic, and you plopped down on a wooden bench, gesturing for Silas to take a seat too.

"Fruits?" Silas echoed, "was that what you were carrying in your bag?"

"Yeah," you nodded your head. "My mom packed some peaches, mangoes, and apples. I took some sugar cookies."

Silas didn't react — but a darkening of his expression told you he wasn't pleased. Which was strange, because which child didn't like sweet things?

"You might want to check that out," he said softly.

"Huh? Check my fruits out?" Needles to say, you were confused.

"It might be poisoned," Silas clarified, before his eyebrows knitted together. "You said that you were older and that you would guide me along. But really, you're so naive."

"And you're so rude!" You shot back, incensed by his words; "did anyone teach you manners?"

There was silence, and Silas narrowed his eyes and looked away. "No. But I learnt from books."

You stared at him, jaw agape.

Now you felt terrible — was this considered bullying? You had unwittingly hit a sore spot. Here you thought your family's relationship was skewed and even dysfunctional, but Silas didn't even have anyone to teach him manners! Was he a child from a fallen noble seeking refuge within the walls of the palace? How had he stumbled here?