Sins of Royalty

CHAPTER II | THE SHADOW LURKER

AFTER PUSHING DOWN his reluctance to get married and agreeing to attend the ball, Landon began the long walk back to his bedroom. His hair blended perfectly with the castle, for everything in it—the walls, the ceilings, the doors, the stairs, the railings—was white. However, at this time of night, the darkness would cast shadows that made the walls and the prince's hair appear grey.

       As he glided in an almost ghost-like manner along the vast corridors, past door after door—the servants' bedrooms, the kitchens, the studies, the libraries—he was startled by a dark figure that emerged from the white-walled shadows.

       He yelped out loud in surprise, but the sound was cut short when a hand clamped over his mouth to silence him. Landon placed one hand over his chest, where he felt his heart beating rapidly against his palm. With the other, he pried his younger brother's hand away from his mouth and glared at him.

       Harding Vaughan looked very similar to Landon in every conceivable way. His hair was precisely the same shade of platinum blond, due to whatever magic was in their blood. His eyes were a slightly paler blue than those of his older brother. Landon's eyes were the frozen ocean, whereas Harding's were the winter sky—both were an ice-cold blue.

       In addition to this, Harding's shoulders were less broad and his legs were longer—however, other than those minor traits, he was a carbon copy of Landon.

       "Harding," Landon hissed through gritted ivory teeth, "why?"

       The other boy gave him a tight-lipped smile, wiping his clammy palms on his pants. Landon saw that he was, once again, wearing only black—this was clearly what always allowed him to sink into the shadows so efficiently. The robes he wore were as tenebrous as a devil's kiss.

       "What?" Harding asked guiltlessly, his eyebrows pulling together to create a look of innocent confusion. "You know very well that one of my hobbies is lurking in the shadows." His smirk deepened—he was slyly referring to his gift of invisibility, which he frequently used to his advantage.

       "How could I forget?" said Landon, pursing his lips.

       Though he quite enjoyed his younger brother's company and connected with him in a way that he was unable to do with his sister, mother and father, he was not in the mood for Harding's antics. Fatigue was already weighing his eyelids down. He attempted to sidestep him, but Harding grabbed him by the arm and violently yanked him back.

       "So," he began, amused, "what was it that Father required you for at this late hour? Has he perhaps discovered that he is dying of some rare magical disease and prepared to bequeath the throne to you behind Mother's back? Or is he simply being held captive and his life being threatened until he is able to lure you to him?"

       "Where do you come up with these ridiculous, nonsense ideas, brother?" Landon asked, reluctant to tell him the truth. If he told him and actually voiced the fact that he was being forced into a marriage, it would instantly become a reality.

       "Ah, the wonders of literature—it can bring to life even the most incredulous of ideas by planting them into the minds of the living. Now, stop avoiding my question and answer it. What did Father want from you?"

       "Can it not just be a father wishing to have an earnest conversation with his son?" Landon offered meekly.

       Harding began to laugh silently, his thin shoulders heaving. "Yes, I'm certain that Lord Vaughan summoned you late at night to exchange pleasantries and to kiss one another's feet." He shook his head, simultaneously rolling his pale blue eyes. "Please. You are only his second favourite child. If he wanted to show his love to one of his children, he would have called Jolecia. Do not think I am an idiot. Tell me."

       Landon sighed in defeat and began to walk down the long, winding hallway with slow and tentative strides. Harding trotted at his sides, waiting for the older of the two to speak.

       "He is forcing me to get married."

       "What?!" Harding exclaimed, shocked. His lips parted in surprise. "Oh, that is much different—and perhaps worse—than I had imagined."

       "Worse than Father dying?"

       "Well, maybe... depending on whom you ask," he replied.

       "But why exactly are you acting so affected by it? This is solely about my fate and my own life. I'm the one being forced into marriage with a woman I have not even met!" Landon reasoned adamantly, roughly stuffing his hands in his pockets.

       "That may be true," Harding agreed with a quirk of his eyebrow, "but if dear Edmundus is doing this to you, it means that he will do the same to me. I'd very much like to marry for love. I am hard to please when it comes to women. I need one who fully supports my introspective nature and my craving to be alone most of the time."

       He trailed off for a moment, before another question seemed to creep its way into his mind.

       "So what is this alleged woman's name?"

       "Desirata Restault," Landon responded.

       "Desirata," he enunciated, tasting the name on his tongue. He winced. "What a desperate name."

       "I am to meet her tomorrow," the older one explained, swallowing nervously. There was a lump in his throat that he could not rid himself of. "There will be a ball. That's where I meet her for the first time. The decision of marriage, however, is already final. I am merely unsure of precisely when I will be required to marry her."

       "Might I suggest hiding in the library during the entire ordeal?" Harding offered. "That is what I do for everything."

       Suddenly, the two heard the sound of footsteps resonating ominously throughout somewhere in the castle. Landon found that he was unable to tell whether the footsteps were approaching them or moving away from them. They pounded rhythmically, like the beating of a heart.

       "We must go," he insisted in a state of panic, turning to face the other boy. "If Father catches us here at this late hour, I can't imagine him being happy."

       Harding shrugged indifferently. "I've nothing to worry about," he said. "If anything," he continued, his figure gradually fading into thin air, "I can... disappear."