Faramund, Guardian of Celeibra's prince Alcaeus, only cares about two things: keeping his prince safe and following the rules. With Alcaeus' rule in jeopardy, a bumbling mage failing at spying seems the least of his problems -- at least until the ma...
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Centuries passed and still not much had changed. Different humans, new orders, but always the same rules to follow. Humans were fickle, changeable, and impossible to trust — but rules were not. Rules were reliable. Faramund stopped in the hallway, beside one particular door. It was still the original wood of the castle, carved out of the largest tree across the continent. It hadn't perished in the flames of their conquest. The humans had started on this wall to replace it with classic Celeibran architecture. But in its unfinished state, even the stone appeared afraid to breach the room.
He glanced forward. He shouldn't enter. Not today. There wasn't time.
A meow from inside compelled him.
He snuck inside and closed the door behind him without a sound. The bedroom was dark, the only light from the single window and the rising sun. The cat blocked the light's intrusion into the room, tail flickering back and forth. Faramund strode past the familiar layout. Childish drawings lay cast across the small table, awaiting its artist to return. The bed was as unmade as it had been that last morning. Dust danced in the air. Cobwebs settled in corners. Caught between the past and present, the room was as familiar as it was unsettling. Faramund reached a hand for the gray striped tabby. Its green eyes shone bright despite the dark.
"He's not coming back," he whispered, petting the side of the cat's face. "Your siblings already realized that. Why haven't you?" The cat purred, nuzzling her head into his palm. "You'll get me in trouble one of these days." His hand moved to rub behind her ears. She meowed and gazed upwards, eying him hopefully. He raised a brow and said, "Of course I didn't forget." Faramund reached under his cloak for the pouch strung to his belt. The cat stood to attention as soon as he pulled free the bundled cloth, leaning her whole body closer. He pulled the small bundle away so he could open it, which she protested with eager cries. Once he lay the cloth open on the ledge beside her, she leapt to reach the meat chunks inside. She devoured it all.
"I'm only feeding you so you stop leaving mice in this room," he said. "You know that, right?" She ignored him, still chomping up every bit of meat. He sighed and ran a hand across her back. She paused to arch her back with the moment and gave a thankful mew. "I'll be back later." He'd wasted enough time. Being late would break at least two rules.
Faramund's gaze flickered down both ends of the hall before sneaking back out. Still empty, as expected. Even the staff avoided this route. He continued on his routine path. A few steps in, he stopped once again. He spun around and narrowed his eyes.
The cat was following him.
He waved a hand back to the room and mumbled, "You can't be here. Go back." She remained unmoved. He tried gesturing with both hands. "Shoo!" Her tail twitched as she lowered her body. She wasn't going to jump on him, was she? He winced and shuffled back. Harsh footsteps echoed into the hall from behind him.
"Faramund, where the hell are you?!"
Alcaeus! Crap! Faramund bent down and scooped up the cat, pulling her beneath his cape. He held her close in both arms. She mewed in appreciation. "Shh!" he hissed. Faramund whirled around, coming face-to-face with Alcaeus' approach. His boots pounded the floor with each step. Faramund bowed his head and said, "Apologies, my majesty."
