Something Wicked This Way Comes

Chapter 47

It was early when Douxie finally couldn't stand sitting around anymore. The sun was just peeking over the canopy. Carter was still asleep, Archie too beside him. Douxie silently pulled his clothes back on, heart thudding rapidly. He needed answers. He needed someone to tell him everything was going to be okay. He placed a gentle kiss to Carter's temple, hand lingering on his shoulder before he turned and walked out the door.

As Douxie was walking down the hall, unsure where he was heading, he nearly ran into a servant.

"Oh!" She jumped nearly out of her skin. "Oh my gods, I'm so sorry!"

"No," Douxie said, helping her pick up the bundle of laundry she'd dropped. "It was my bad, I should have been looking where I was going."

Her smile was thin, like she wasn't quite sure what to think of him. "Thank you," she said anyway as Douxie helped her arrange the clothes in the basket. "Were you looking for the king, Your Highness?"

Douxie blanched. "What?"

"The king? Did you need him?" She stood, perching the basket on her hip. "Highness?"

Douxie slowly got to his feet. "Don't... call me that. I'm not... I'm not a prince."

She pursed her lips, shifting her weight uncomfortably. "It... would be improper to address Arawn's grandson as anything less."

Douxie frowned, sighing deeply. "Aren't there legal things we need to go through before anything like that is official?"

She smiled wanly. "Yes, but regardless the people know who you are. We see you." She shifted the basket's weight again. "And we're all glad you're back."

So saying, she curtsied, then continued her way down the hall. Douxie watched her disappear around the other corner, unease creeping into him again.

Why were they all so insistent on him being something he wasn't?

With a sigh, he turned and continued his way to... wherever it was he was going. Eventually, he found his way back to that little sitting room. It was empty and dark, save for the morning light coming in through the window. Douxie wandered inside, curling up on one of the long sofas that sat in front of the cold fireplace.

He didn't know how long he sat there, staring at the charred wood in the fireplace. But it was quiet. Quiet and thought provoking in a way the bedroom hadn't been. Douxie could think of nothing but Carter in that room, listening to the sound of his beloved's shallow breaths. But right here, he could give himself room to breathe. He guessed this was why Arawn liked it in here.

He was so lost in thought, he didn't even notice the door opening.

"Douxie?"

The wizard almost jumped, craning his neck to see who had walked in.

Arawn shut the door, brows drawn together. "Why are you in here?"

"I needed to think," Douxie said, relaxing in a way he thought he couldn't allow himself to anymore. "I needed to breathe."

Arawn slowly made his way across the room. He stood next to the sofa, standing still like that for a moment. He looked like he hadn't slept at all. After a while he asked, "Can I join you?"

Douxie nodded slowly, glancing up as Arawn sat on the other end of the sofa. He watched his grandfather for a long moment, trying to see all the resemblances everyone else did. And what he was looking for, he found. It was there in the shape of their noses, the color of their skin, the shade of their hair. Douxie looked like his grandfather.

Arawn looked at him with a fond but worried smile, elbow resting on the arm of the sofa. He had his fist pressed against his mouth in a contemplative way. Douxie did that too, when he was thinking. How many mannerisms did they share?