The Rest is Silence

by Chii Rempel

  “Hey!”

  Both of them throw me a look that tells me to best leave it uncommented, before somebody brings something to the surface that I’d rather see stay buried.

  “Okay,” I announce enthusiastically and turn for the way to the gardens, “Let’s go. We have a ghost to catch.”

  I don’t wait before I go for the door.

  “I have to take a shower first,” I hear Xavier grunt behind me.

  Arcadia’s baffled voice follows me. “What did he just say?”

  5

  Xavier

  We end up at the fountain, in the centre of the gardens, in the middle of the night. I feel like I’m having a déjà vu. Sitting on the marble, Arcadia huddled between Xander and me, a warm blanket around the three of us, I ask myself how I could have found it so scary the other night. Everything seems so peaceful. Everything so beautiful. The fountain has been turned off for the night, but I still let my hand glide through the calm water behind me. There is hardly any wind. The circular shape of the castle blocks most of it, yet I am still grateful for the blanket and for Cadi’s warmth beside me. I snuggle up to her and she gives me a smile before doing the same.

  “Hey, don’t get all cuddly without me,” Xander protests from the side.

  I chuckle.

  “We wouldn’t dare,” Cadi says and lets Xander jiggle closer, so that he’s nearly sitting on her lap. He can be a giant baby sometimes. I wish I could switch places with Cadi. But that would be weird, I guess.

  “Would any of you fine gentlemen finally tell me what we are waiting for?” Arcadia asks. I throw a questioning glance at Xander behind her back. He catches my eyes and shrugs helplessly. I sigh.

  “Hey,” Cadi chides, elbowing both of us, “No silent conversations between you two! I want to hear it, so speak out loud.”

  “Well,” Xander starts, “It sounds kinda stupid out loud.”

  “It sounds major stupid out loud,” I agree.

  “You two sound stupid anyway, so let’s just get it over with so I don’t seem so desperate,” Cadi sighs.

  “You are desperate,” Xander points out and smirks.

  Cadi starts pinching him mercilessly.

  “Okay okay,” he laughs, “I surrender! I’ll tell you everything, just stop torturing me.”

  Arcadia snorts and nuzzles back into the blanket, a smug look on her face. “You, Alexander Maleth the fourth, are an awfully easy target.”

  “No, you are just plain evil,” Xander pouts, but lets his head rest on top of hers.

  “Hmm,” she hums in agreement, “Never forget that.”

  A silence falls around us, not the deafening kind, but sweet and protective, like a long lover’s embrace. I wonder shortly if the two have fallen asleep, when Xander abruptly says: “We are waiting for the ghost of my father.”

  The words seem so loud in the darkness. Cadi tenses beside me.

  “I was afraid it could be something like that,” she whispers, then turns to look Xander in the eyes. “What gave you that idea?”

  His eyes find mine. “Xavier saw him last night.”

  Immediately, her head turns to me, her eyebrow raised in doubt. I feel myself shrink away. I know how stupid it sounds.

  “I didn’t exactly say that.”

  “You didn’t exactly not say it either,” Xander corrects and I grunt.

  “I just … think I saw him – it. I don’t know.”

  “And why do you think he’s coming back?” Cadi looks at me like I have it all figured out.

  “I never said that,” I clarify. “I have no idea if it was even real.”

  “Then why are we –”

  “I want to see him.” Xander’s voice travels right between us, silencing Cadi. “If he was real – if he was here – I want to see him. I want to know what he wants. Why he can’t seem to find peace.”

  She snorts. “Your mother is marrying his brother one month after your father’s funeral. Of course, he can’t get his peace. I’d be pissed as hell and would haunt their sorry arses to their grave.”

  “Remind me to never cross you,” I say.

  “I wouldn’t advise it.” She winks and it brings a grin to my face. This night is definitely better than the last.

  “I just want to see if it’s true,” Xander whispers beside her. His chin is raised, his eyes fixed on the bright stars above. I know it’s not possible, but I think I can see them reflected in his eyes. “I just want to … talk to him one last time.”

  I reach over Cadi and pet his shoulder in sympathy. Xander’s relationship to his father has always been a special one. They were not exactly on best terms, but they loved each other fiercely. King Aelfred was a strict man, but he was a fair and righteous king and father. Xander could have used his guidance for a little longer.

  “Oh lords,” Cadi sighs and throws her arms around the prince. “We’ll stay for as long as necessary. I’ll even summon him myself, it that’s what it takes. Just stop looking like a lost puppy.”

  Xander chuckles and closes his eyes. I follow his example and soon sleep is taking me away over the dream’s shore.

  How we manage to sleep through the whole night is beyond me. We end up huddled half against each other – half on top of one another – in a pile of limbs at the foot of the fountain. Good thing we fell forward, not backwards. I appreciate not freezing my balls off a second time in a row.

  “How in the fuck did we fall asleep?” Xander mumbles disbelievingly while trying to tame his golden locks, which – to be honest – look quite ridiculous in the morning. He grants me a narrow-eyed look, as if reading my thoughts. Not that they aren’t obvious. His bed hair is one of my favourite things to tease him about.

  “My lord, my lady.”

  Somebody is standing right before us, and she doesn’t sound happy. I look up and find Sylva eyeing Xander and Cadi intently. “The Lord and Lady Maleth and Lord Riverstone await you in the dining room.”

  The maid’s sour expression shows no room for refusal. I can imagine it’s not a peachy task to look for the prince and his fiancée, both missing from their beds, only to find them sleeping outside in the grass like savages. Good luck explaining that to their parents.

  Sylva raises an eyebrow expectantly, her lips forming a thin line. “They are not to be made waiting.”

  Xander huffs irritated while he helps Arcadia to her feet.

  “Frankly, I don’t give a vættir’s arse about what they are or are not to be. I will go freshen up, change into a fresh dress and then I am willing to join the breakfast table. As the future queen, I need to look presentable, do I not?” Cadi looks Sylva in the eyes challengingly. The older maid’s face hardens even further, but she doesn’t argue. With a short nod she retreats towards the castle, without a single look at me. Why should she bother with me anyway? I am merely the captain’s son, not royalty. Sometimes I forget that I am different from Xander and Arcadia. Other times, like this time, it hits me like a rock.

  Xander and Cadi are going to be king and queen one day. They’re going to be married and then they will forget about me. They will be happy. I know the two of them love each other – they might not be in love with one another – but arranged couples seldom are. They’re lucky though. I’m sure they’ll fall in love sooner rather than later.

  My heart aches a little at the thought. It’s been doing that for a while. I used to think it was jealousy … that I wanted what they had. A plan, a secure future, a written destiny. But I realised that is not the case. I do not want wealth, I do not want a path set in stone for me. What I want is Xander – stupid, arrogant, naïve Alexander, with his mood swings and his terrible taste in poetry – and the thought kills me a little every time.

  “Xavier?” Xander turns around and throws me a quizzical look. “Are you coming?”

  Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I stand up and smile at him. He cocks his head sceptically, which makes me smile even wider. The mixture of confusion and delight is quite possibly my favourit
e expression of his and I make it a personal goal to put it on his face as often as I can. It stays on his face while I hook my arms both around Xander and Cadi and pull them towards the castle.

  6

  Xander

  The morning is a deceptive promise and I hate it. Every morning, the sun comes up like nothing happened, with the prospect of a new and better day. But what happens if that promise is broken? If the new day isn’t better? If it is so far from better that you want to bury the sun and its lying light deep into the darkness of the brutal night? Because the night might be cold, but it is honest. It never promises improvement, it only gives what is there.

  I hate mornings. But the last night has left me unsatisfied, too. It was supposed to be eye-opening … I’m not sure if I actually expected to see the ghost of my father, but something in me hoped that it was real. That Xavier did not hallucinate this all in his drunken state of mind. I just need a few last words with him. As a goodbye. I didn’t get a goodbye.

  He died in his sleep, unexpected and unfounded. Nobody knows what caused his heart to stop so suddenly … he had been healthy. He had been strong. Now he is dead and I am stuck with his bastard of a brother. Gods, I hate him. I fucking hate him so much.

  I used to like him. He wasn’t the most considerate of uncles, but he was fine. He taught me to ride and to shoot a bow. He gave me my first drink. He’s been a decent uncle – he’s not a decent brother. I hate him for taking my father’s place, even though it was my right to do so. I hate him for planning a wedding when we are still supposed to be grieving for my father. I fucking hate him for taking my mother to bed. Not that I’m blaming him alone for this, she is as much to blame, if not more. My mother is … I hate thinking about her nowadays. I hate thinking about most things nowadays.

  The water in the tub has started to cool. How long did I space out? I doubt anybody is still waiting for me in the dining room, but nothing could be less important right now. I dry myself and walk back into my room in search for clothes. Today is one of those days. I know the exact right outfit.

  When I make my way downstairs, one of the servants – Ansgar – stops me. He is very tall, with short blonde hair and blue eyes the colour of the morning sky. He’s quiet and always kind. Not to mention dashingly handsome. I could have easily fallen for him. But I didn’t. Because easy is not something I do.

  “My lord,” Ansgar greets and takes a quick bow, “The king wants to speak to you in the great hall.”

  My face hardens. I have definitely picked the right outfit for today.

  “He’s not the king yet,” I mumble as I walk past him towards the big double doors. With as much strength as I can muster, I push the doors and let them fly open. There’s nothing like a dramatic entrance.

  “You wanted to see me, uncle?”

  He remains unfazed, looking up from the game of chess in front of him.

  “Alexander. Come, join me.”

  My chess skills are as good as non-existent, which he knows quite well. Nevertheless, I sit down on the chair at the small game table, my expression schooled into one of boredom. Let me humour him then.

  “What do you want?”

  Without sparing me any glance, my uncle takes a chess piece and begins the game. I relax back into the chair, crossing my legs and indicate for the servant at the door to come closer.

  “Arthur, would you be so kind as to bring me a cup of tea? I haven’t had breakfast yet.” I say to him with a bright smile. The boy nods and leaves the room hastily.

  My eyes wander back to my uncle, only to find him already looking at me.

  “It’s your turn,” he points out, which I obviously choose to ignore.

  “Please come to the point quickly, I don’t have all day,” I say instead.

  He lets out a huff and reclines in his chair. “Actually, you are right about that.”

  My eyebrows rise in suspicion at these words. “As much as I like to hear that, I’m afraid I’m missing something.”

  “The wedding is in less than a fortnight,” he begins.

  Nope, not a topic I want to talk about again. I raise my arms and rise from the chair. “Right. I’m out of here.”

  “Alexander, sit down!” he commands harshly. I jump a little, surprised about the bite in his voice. He doesn’t look pleased.

  Arthur rushes back into the hall with my tea and I use that as an excuse to sit down again, without having to grant my uncle the satisfaction of ordering me around. I give the servant a thanking nod and accept the hot cup gratefully. After a dash of milk and two pieces of sugar, the tea is perfect.

  Taking a sip, I raise an eyebrow at him expectantly. He reaches over the table and takes one of my chess pieces to make a move.

  “You’re going to listen now, son.”

  “Still not your son.”

  “And you’re going to be quiet.” He raises his head and I immediately know that he is not playing anymore. His eyes are burning ice. I can’t decide whether to freeze or go up in flames.

  “These last days before the wedding, you are going to control yourself. You are going to keep quiet and make no fuzz, while you let your mother enjoy the ceremony. I mean it. You are not going to destroy what I am building. You have every right to mourn your father, it is in fact the only thing I respect about you, but you will refrain from bringing your mother any more pain. So, you will go to the wedding, play your part and pretend that you are the good little prince that you are supposed to be. And afterwards – and you can start your preparations now – you will be sent to Withberg to continue your studies in a more suited environment.”

  I blink a few times as I let the words sink in, thinking about whether to laugh or to punch him. Boxing classes would really have come in handy now. Instead, I take a sip from my tea.

  “You want to send me away to a boarding school in the South,” I sum up.

  Without averting his gaze, he moves another piece on the table, then nods slowly. I put the cup in my hands down on the chessboard and stand up.

  “Yeah, thanks for the suggestion, but I’m afraid I have to pass.”

  “This is not a suggestion,” I hear his cold voice say as I make my way to the door with as much nonchalance as I can muster.

  “It is, if I’m not taking it,” I answer and march out the hall.

  Xavier

  “You coming, Colson?” One of the soldiers calls back, as he sees me stop during our routine run around the castle. My father insists on me joining their training every day, even though I’m not a soldier myself yet. I don’t know if I ever want to be, but I’m not sure I have a say in that. Today is even worse than usual, because I have to run three extra rounds for my behaviour last night.

  “Hey, Colson, move your ass, or do you want to keep running for the rest of the day?”

  I ignore him. My attention is focused on something more important, and I really couldn’t care less about running right now. Xander just stormed out of the main entrance – and he’s wearing all black. That is not a good sign.

  His walk is a little too fast, his posture a little too straight. Something happened, there is no doubt about that. I start running towards him, ignoring the calls from the other soldiers. It’s a very conscious decision – I know there will be consequences for disobeying my father and I’ll deal with them when the time comes – but right now I need to check on Xander. He can be quite erratic when he’s upset.

  “Xan!” I call, trying to slow him down in his march. His long, black coat swings like a cape as he turns, his blonde hair a mess. He must have wrecked it in frustration. The fact that he lets people see him like this tells me the situation must be serious. He’s never leaving the house if his look is anything but perfect. Recognition dawns on his face and his bitter expression falls as he spots me.

  “Xan,” I say again as I reach him. The closeness allows me to see the redness in his eyes and as I give him a quiet smile, silent tears start flowing down his cheeks like unstoppable rivers. Immediately, I pull hi
m into my arms, holding him close while broken sobs travel through his body. I see some people stop to watch us curiously, I can feel their eyes on us. I don’t care, I never care about other people’s opinions, but I know Xander does. I know how important his reputation is to him. So I reluctantly free myself from the embrace and take a step back. My hands travel to his shoulders, making him look at me. Whoever put that expression on his face should rot in hell.

  “Let’s take a walk,” I suggest, “Go to the bridge, where it’s a little more private and you can tell me all about it. What do you say?”

  With a short nod Xander turns and starts walking down the tree-lined road. I follow him without a second thought. A sharp wind blows through the trees and makes me shiver, my shirt still wet from running now sticks to me like a second skin. The wind chases heavy clouds around the sky, whispering promises of an autumn storm. Fitting, how even the weather seems to adapt to Alexander’s moods.

  It is not a long way to the small bridge hidden in between the trees, but we spend it in silence. The river that used to flow underneath it is nearly gone, leaving only a tiny stream that barely covers the rocks. Still, it is a beautiful sight. The red wooden bridge was built many decades ago, by an architect who was said to be madly in love with the then-princess. Her love for nature was what inspired him to build a structure so inconspicuous and humble that it is swallowed by the surrounding, as if a part of the forest itself. However, it was so inconspicuous, that the princess didn’t find it worth her attention and so the bridge remained unseen by its very inspiration.

  Xander has been drawn to this place since childhood. But he has always had a soft spot for tragic love stories.

  “So,” I interrupt the silence, propping my elbows on the wooden frame, “Who do I have to punch?”

  Xander let’s out an amused huff, which brings a victorious smile to my face.

  “I don’t think it wise to punch the great Lord Maleth himself, however much I want to see him bleed.”

  I shrug. “I’ve done worse.”