If The Hand Fits

3

A fortnight is two weeks. This is a snazzy fic written in the prospective of a very proper sounding Castiel. Also my mature adult friends and I call the game Forknife. Cause they got really cross faded once and my boy Bryan said, "Imma spoon you while playing Forknife." So now it's a thing.

A few days becomes a fortnight.

One becomes two and though Castiel is scared for his father, Naomi continues to reassure him that everything is fine. 

A knock on their door startles Castiel and he rushes to answer it. He swings the large oak door open to see a Page dressed in black. He hands Castiel a thick envelope with the neighboring kingdom's seal. The Page nods once and mumbles an apology before retreating to his horse. 

Castiel closes the door and opens the letter with trembling hands.

To the family of one Charles Shirley,

We regret to inform you that Mr. Shirley was killed by an elite team of thieves while attempting to leave the city. His carriage was over-taken and everyone was killed on sight. We apologize for the time it took to find the whereabouts of his surviving family.

Please bring this letter to our treasury and we shall gift you a small fortune in payment for his death happening in our city. We are sorry for your loss.

May God be with you in this time of sorrow.

Deepest regards,

Lord Bartholomew Harrington

Castiel is still sifting through the emotions of shock, anger, and grief when Naomi takes the letter from him. Naomi makes a choked sob-like sound as she reads but Castiel barely registers it through the whoosh of blood in his ears. He is not sure when he sat down but the cool hardness of the floor grounds him enough to move past the shock and anger. With nothing to hold on to, grief overwhelms him in crashing waves.

~~

Within a few days, Naomi was back to her hard-faced self.

By the end of the month she had formal, legal authority over everything; the house, the small fortune, the land, and Castiel himself. She made quick work about moving Castiel's bedroom to the attic so that Anna could take over his childhood bedroom.

His stepmother starts implementing chores to help save the little money they had or so she says. Castiel is the only one she requires to do such work. Before he knows it, he has become a sort of handmaiden to his stepmother and siblings.

The long days make it increasingly difficult to find time for himself. Unsurprisingly he does not see his only friend but Castiel constantly thinks about him. Bright green eyes that always seem engaged when Castiel speaks.

He misses his friend. He longs to see him.

'What would he think of me now? I am nothing more than a glorified maid burdened with tasks my siblings -my supposed equals- are not.' He mourns mentally. 'How could he stand to see me? To like me? I don't even like me...'

I'm sorry this is so short. I kept going back and forth on what should go in this chapter. I hope this works for now. Love yahll!