Roses Are Red (book 1)

Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Rebellious Little Kid

Epsilon stood under the fading moon, still surrounded by roses, watching as his brother led the green-eyed girl out. His golden eyes lingered on her retreating figure, the soft sway of her red gown, the way her hand nestled in his brother's.

He exhaled, his breath warm in the cool evening. He stood in place, still as the statues that lined the edges of the estate. His eyes slowly stared down at the roses without moving an inch. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for—maybe for a certain girl with caramel hair to turn back with her green eyes.

But she didn't. She never would. Of course she wouldn't.

The garden somehow felt emptier now.

He walked slowly toward the swing under the tall oak tree, letting himself drop onto it. The chains creaked faintly, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He was too tall for the swing these days. Back then—-When they were kids—Orion had asked for a garden, and their parents made it happen overnight, they had people scrambling to build it. Epsilon had wanted one too, but no one built a second secret garden. Then Orion told him they both could have it. And for a time, they played here together. The grass was the ocean, the oak tree was their ship, and they were pirates hunting for treasure. Orion always let Epsilon be the captain, and they'd race through the trees, dodging imaginary cannon fire.

But soon, as always, Orion stopped coming. Epsilon, however, always found his way back—alone.

He told himself he didn't care. After a while, he actually began to like the emptiness—Because when no one else was there, he could almost believe it belonged to him.

The moonlight filtered through the tangle of roses. Epsilon sat on the swing, his fingers brushing lightly over a rose hanging from the tangled vines that crawled up the oak tree. The petals were soft, and delicate, barely brushing his skin, as his golden eyes remained fixed on them.

Perfect.

They were perfect—just like the roses.

Orion, with his perfect smile, his perfect life, his perfect fiancée—A girl with perfect, wavy caramel hair and those green eyes that shone like gems.—She fit into his world so flawlessly, didn't she? The thought flickered through his mind, Epsilon couldn't help but smirk.

Of course, she's the one Orion was marrying.

He pushed off lightly from the ground, the swing swaying in the quiet, the soft creak of chains echoing. He tilted his head back, staring at the sky with tiny, little sparkling dots.

Then the echo of footsteps distracted Epsilon from his thoughts, crunching on the gravel behind him, and someone was approaching.

"Young Master Epsilon," it was Thomas, the family butler. "The ball has ended." he paused slightly before continuing. "Your family has requested your presence. They're waiting for you inside."

Epsilon didn't move, "Tell them I'm not interested," he said flatly, pushing the swing higher with a sharp kick, the chains groaning as they stretched.

The servant hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. "Your brother said, if you don't come, he'll handle the situation himself."

A pause. The swing slowed.

Orion's words. Of course. Always the responsible one. Always cleaning up the mess his rebellious little brother made.

How noble of him.

A smile curled his lips as he finally stood, brushing the dust from his coat. "Fine, very well," he muttered, his voice low, "Let's get this over with."

Epsilon pushed through the heavy door of the estate, The grand hall was empty now, shadows pooling in the corners where light once danced. He took a moment to absorb the emptiness.

"Right this way," Thomas called beside him and led him down the corridor lined with portraits of ancestors who were probably gazing down at Epsilon with the same look his parents had ever given him. In the room at the end of the hall, his parents sat in the plush chairs, their expressions a mixture of disappointment and something similar to disdain. His mother's lips were a thin line, while his father leaned forward, crunched up brows on his forehead.

"Epsilon," Lord Lancaster began, "Your behavior at the ball was beyond unacceptable."

"I suppose that's nothing new," Epsilon let out a faint, sarcastic laugh, "Why do you even bother inviting me to these things if you're just going to disown me in front of everyone?"

"Enough," his father snapped, the command cutting through the air. "You are a Lancaster, yet you act nothing like one."

His father's gaze darkened. "We've decided it would be best for you to leave. Away from the estate, from the city, the society, and away from this family."

"So you're shipping me off to exile again."

His mother didn't flinch, her eyes narrowing. "Call it what you like. It seems to be the only thing that keeps you from embarrassing us any further.

"Perhaps a year of isolation will remind you of the importance of this family's legacy. We are sending you to someone this time who will ensure you learn to act like a proper gentleman instead of choosing to act like a fool."

"A year." He repeated, chuckled coldly, shaking his head, pausing before he breathed in. "Just admit it—you just want me out of sight, out of mind. It's easier than pretending you all want me here." His voice was sharp.

Silence

The silence stretched, thick and oppressive, until Orion's voice broke through. "Maybe this time away will do you good, Epsilon," Orion continued, his tone light, and smooth, a small smile on his face. "After all, it's not like your presence has made much of a difference with what's happening out there. The Night Market is growing more restless, it's dangerous for us all, even in the Lancaster mansion."

"But we'll take care of things." Orion added, his smile wider now, "The Order has it under control. We have resources and we're keeping a close eye on the Night Market. You have nothing to worry about."

Lord & Lady Lancaster glanced at Orion and both smiled.

"Right, I almost forgot—Orion, I'm guessing I'm no longer invited to your big day, am I?" Epsilon looked towards Orion,

Orion's smile faltered for just a moment, a flicker of tension crossing his features, but he remained silent before Lady Lancaster interjected,

"Absolutely not," she said, her voice crisp and icy. "You won't be anywhere near that day, Epsilon. This family has an image to maintain.

Epsilon smirked, then glared at his brother, opening his mouth to retort, but his mother's voice cut him off once again,

"You will leave at dawn. The car will be waiting outside." Lady Lancaster said coldly, Epsilon caught the faint glimmer of satisfaction in his mother's eyes—that maybe was for him to see in the first place.

"Hey, Orion," Epsilon suddenly turned towards him, "Do you remember—-when we were young, that time we went to the park with our skateboards?"

"No I don't." Orion said coldly, without even looking at him.

But he answered too fast.