The Balance (First Draft | Discontinued)

Chapter 17 (Aleksander)

Aleksander paused while pulling on his plain muslin shirt. His skin was already a constellation map of scars, but most of those marks had long since faded to pink-tinged silver. Now there was a puckered red line stretching across the expanse of his ribs, stark against faintly mottled flesh. At least the wounds had stopped weeping pus, but he knew that they would join the ranks of all his scars.

Another line. It doesn't matter. But it did— not that he had been wounded, since that had happened more times than he could count, but who he had been wounded for. He curled his lip. The Laniková girl.

Letting go of the shirt hem, he grabbed his uniform jacket, slipped it on, and buttoned it up to his throat. Anything less would be punishable, and that was the last thing he needed. With that, he climbed up the stairs and away from the cells, heading in the direction of the larders. He hadn't had a thing to eat in at least a day, certainly an honest mistake on the guards' part as they handed out food to every occupied cell but his. In any event, he could intimidate the men watching the larders. Half of the time, they were sneaking food themselves, and he could hold that over them while he stole whatever he wanted. His stomach growled in anticipation.

The larders were in the opposite direction from the barracks: to the left and up another flight of stairs. There was another near the kitchen, but in his opinion, it was better to go to a higher floor than it was to deal with the chef, who slept near the warmth of the ovens cradling a ladle like a newborn. The man knew how to use it, too. So Aleksander passed the barracks and stepped out into the Rotunda, glancing around to make sure he was alone before ascending the stairs and stepping into the hall.

About to round the corner to the larders, he heard the slight creak of a door and stopped. Likely just another noble who had cornered a maid; he didn't need to risk angering whichever courtier it was by walking in on it. But there was something odd here— no footsteps. It was too close to dawn to begin anything, and usually the maid scurried away before she could be caught and face reprisals. A moment later, the short, sharp clack of men's shoes reached his ears. A languid pace, unhurried...

Making sure that his shadow remained out of sight under the gas lamps, he took one noiseless step and then another. The man was turning the corner at the end of the hall, but there was no doubt in Aleksander's mind as to who it was. That was a face he had dreamed of kicking into a bloody mess for almost ten years.

Food could wait. He didn't know which room Marek had been in, but he would search all of these apartments to find even the smallest clue of what his half-brother had been up to. It wasn't like Marek to keep his lovers secret, but there were plenty of things that he did in the shadows. If there was a woman in there, sex wasn't what he wanted. It was merely a means to an end.

The door creaked open once more and Aleksander ducked back. It couldn't be as simple as a late-night tryst, so who was this woman and what was Marek after? Once he felt sure that she wouldn't see him, he took another step... and froze. Glancing down the hallway, head tilted, was a figure not in the clothes of a woman and too short to be an adult— a boy. And not just any boy.

Aleksander had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to stifle a laugh. Ah, Marek. It would have been better for you if this were a woman. As the young king stepped out into the hall, Aleksander pressed against the banister and waited. Anyone with two functioning eyes in their skull could see that this was not meant to be discovered, but what exactly were they doing? Better yet, how could he use it? If he rushed in and confronted Marek now, then the advantage he had was squandered. Best to think about it and come up with a plan; besides, judging by the light on the horizon, it wasn't long until sunrise, and so it wasn't long until the morning drills.

Waiting a few moments until the boy king was out of earshot as well as sight, he finally continued on his way. When he reached the larders, only one guard was standing outside, meaning the other was inside and presumably snatching anything he thought wouldn't be noticed. Aleksander shoved the one guard aside, ignoring his protests, and stepped inside.