This is not really an AU, rather something that could actually happen in the story.
***
My study smelled of knowledge. Old, open books with their well-loved covers and yellowed pages, the smell of wet earth wafting through a window, slightly cracked. Rain thrummed like fingertips against the glass pane, and my tea made the whole room smell of cinnamon.
Peace.
Carefully, I thumbed through one such book, words written not in the text of today, but rather ink so delicately inscribed.
A various amount of strange symbols and pictures were drawn there with the feather-soft strokes of some author long ago. Strange symbols and pictures... that I did not understand.
I scanned the page, running my gaze along it, searching for a pattern. Some sort of code.
Because surely, though no one else could do it, I should be able—
"Holing yourself up like this isn't good for you, Xian." My aunt entered the room silently, slithering like a snake might. Her face was a rare show of concern.
I lifted my eyes, heavy with sleep, to smile at her. "This is fun for me."
She blew a breath from her nose, arms crossed. Long, black nails bit into her skin. "Yes, perhaps it is, but don't you realize what a selfish mindset you have? You are supposed to be a king."
"I am a king," I say, sitting upright in my chair. Steeling myself, my voice. "No amount of reading is going to change that."
My aunt bristled. "You are growing weak. People are going to take notice of that, you know. I am merely looking out for you."
Looking out for me, her nephew? Or looking out for her direct link to the throne?
"Thank you for your concern," I say.
She hums, running her fingertips along the spines of some of my collection, all neatly aligned on shelves that reach for the ceiling. Nods, pleased with my answer. "Anything for you, my darling boy."
She cares for you. She's the only one you can trust, though it may not be ideal.
After all, beggars can't be choosers.
(The irony in that statement is that he's not a beggar, he's a king.)
