*Mykhol*
Mykhol glanced back at the white hall Ana had left. She seemed in such a hurry, not even stopping for him. The idea alone upset him, leaving him behind like he was just another servant. If it were any other time, he would have chased after her and demanded she wait for him. Pulled her back by the arm and refused to let her go until she would.
But he was already nursing his latest wounds from her carelessness as it was. He was still hurting from the scarf incident.
The pain of her rejecting his gift lingered painfully, intensifying daily as she appeared determined to ignore it. She hadn't even considered apologizing. He felt torn between being frustrated with her insensitivity and disappointed in his own hope that she might have realized his feelings more acutely. For her to notice at all that, maybe he might see her as something more than just a cousin. That, for once, she could look beyond her stupid fixation with family ties and–
Or that she could still be so damn distracted. Mykhol clenched his teeth at the image of her rushing past him, her red shawl billowing behind her as if she were possessed by the thought of her damn father–the human.
But then again, she must have found the King by now, right? Someone he had no desire to see. The human was now in Nocthen. Their worst fears had come true.
But he would leave, Mykhol had to remind himself. Things could return to how they once were. His presence was merely a disturbance, just as watching Ana leave him behind was too.
She's so quick to forget everything for the likes of those humans. It was a bad habit he was beginning to notice in her. Instead of focusing on him now that they were back home, there was just something that kept pulling her away.
So young and distracted still. And she was young. Mykhol had to remind herself. Even now, as an adult by Nochten standards, she was still young in mind. She would grow out of it. Or, he'd make her grow out of it.
Mykhol clenched a fistful of his wool tunic before letting go to flick his eyes back up the hall. Half wondering where she was right now. With him. And what it was making them so slow to come back.
Luckily, though, he was not the only one losing his patience, however. His Mother and Father fidgeted and pulled at their tunics like nervous birds pruning their fathers. They seemed more on edge the longer they all stood waiting for his arrival. Only placated by the sight of the servants pulling in more trunks and luggage in their wake. All with the blue Dawny seal.
Mykhol flinched at the sight of it. He did not like to have it in his home. In Nochten. Or seeing it in general.
At this point, he increasingly disliked the color. Mykhol was contemplating this when his mother suddenly grabbed her throat, fiddling with her necklace.
"What's taking them so long?" Her voice shook at the edge, a slight panic in her red eyes as they darted from the servants to behind them and back. Beside her, his father merely shrugged with a heavy sigh, pushing up his small round glasses over his fat nose. He too seemed just as uneasy.
"That human servant hasn't come back either." He noted with a heavy pause. "He left somewhere after Her Majesty Hildenberg left, remember. Do you think he got lost?"
She huffed a short, sharp sound through her thin nose. "Oh, hardly," she said, rolling her eyes. "I remember that man from before, don't you? He's been here too many times to get lost." She shifted her shoulders to wrap her new shawl around herself. It was something new. Expensive.
Made of spider silk with small diamonds stitched into a lotus flower design. They had commissioned it by already dipping into Hidi's recent fund transfer. His father had figured out a clever way to start siphoning money–instead of purchasing new weapons from the depot, they were buying bulk stock of older leftovers.
Another brilliant scheme of his parents, Mykhol, was impressed. When it came to money, his father eventually figured things out. And keeping his mother in the supply of brand-new goods always seemed to keep her in a better mood.
But the tone, what she just said now about the servant–
"What do you mean, mother?" Mykhol turned with interest. "It's my first time seeing any of them in Nochten."
"Oh, you would be just a baby then." She waved a hand full of heavy rings to click together in motion. Her eyes lifted back to the lobby as the last of the luggage was carried in. " I mean when Parsul was alive. "
"My Aunt?" He couldn't hide his surprise to see his mother nod, shifting hair from her updo. She shuffled the shawl, not to stay warm this time but more to show off to the standing lords and Ladies who had come to share the spectacle of the last arrival. She purposely showed the fur and silkworm stitching as if it were common for her.
"She used to have them all come over: Alexander, Belinda, and Bratha. " She raised her fingers as if counting.
"You mean Her Majesty of Dawny and Almony?" This was news, and he couldn't hide his shocked expression, pulling his firm jaw open a little. "You mean they were all here?"
His mother scuffed again. "They were all friends, believe it or not." But Mykhol could only blink after her. He was already finding it hard to imagine all three of them in the same place, let alone be friends with her aunt.
Mainly how her majesty Belinda is now, Mykhol recalled. The woman was as icy as she was beautiful. And her hate for his cousin seemed only to grow sharper with each visit. But to think his aunt was also friends with the queen of Almony. That was… interesting.
"I'm afraid to say it's hard to imagine Aunt Parsul could do such a thing as being friends with all of them. I've met Belinda twice now, and she is–" He didn't need to finish the statement when his mother met his expression on her own. Already aware or, rather, more than understanding.
There was always a lingering resentment toward her that time never seemed to dissipate. A sibling rivalry that refused to fade even after her older sister had long been dead and gone. It continued to live on in his mother. Just as spiteful.
Her thin lips broke into a scuff after."Well, they were. And it was so annoying to have to keep seeing them." She toned through her fangs. "I'm glad that's done and over now."
"Was that how my Aunt and the King fell in love?" Mykhol asked, only mildly curious. "Because they constantly saw each other here?" But she shook her head.
"No, actually," Her brows furrowed in thought as her lips pursed. "No, that was when Alexander was still engaged to Belinda."
"Engaged?" Mykhol stiffened his back. "He was engaged to Queen Belinda, not my Aunt first?"
"Oh yes, didn't I tell you?"
He shook his head. "No, but I just assumed,"
"No, my sister never got engaged to anyone. She was awful about it -refused every single suitor. Even your Father was a candidate once." She went to bump shoulders with her husband. "Isn't that so, honey?"
"Ah," his Father fumbled with his glasses. Yes," his cheeks blushed at the thought. "She—Empress Parsul was high-spirited."
"You mean uncontrollable? " She snorted, lifting her eyes to the dome ceiling. "She was. Nothing was ever good for her–no man, no horse, no jewel. It was as if she could never be pleased by anything a normal woman would want. Her head off in the clouds with silly notions."
"Like her daughter," Mykhol quietly noted the resemblance. His mother laughed softly then.
"But it's funny."
"What is?" Mykhol couldn't help but lean in as his mother drew quite a moment. Her expression dropped as if lost to some distant thought. Her currant-colored eyes dulled for a moment around the edges.
"I didn't think she was ever going to settle down," she murmured softly. "And especially not with Alexander. I never noticed that she was interested in him like that." Her eyes lowered to the silver and glass doors, peering out as a gust of wind blew outside, pushing the leaves across the pathway. Another area where they were saving money. Not having any servants extended to outdoor maintenance, keeping more money for themselves. Another of his father's brilliant plans.
It may be petty, but it was effective in two ways: it provided more money for their purse and implied that Ana was not managing her estate well, casting further doubt among the nobles. While it didn't outright dissuade her from gaining new support since the plan had changed, it did make a subtle suggestion instead.
Ana could be Empress, sure, but someone else should take the lead. It's two birds with one stone—easier for the transition.
And when that time arrived, Mykhol relaxed his fingers to touch his hoops, counting all three of them. His mother swallowed hard, breaking her silence.
"So I was confused when the day came, and she told me she was pregnant."
Pregnant? Mykhol lifted a brow. "So Ana was conceived before wedlock?" Interesting. " And that's why they got married?" His Father nodded.
"Married and then whisked away to Dawny."
His mother clicked her tongue to her fangs with a wet snap. "Not before leaving everything a mess here." The growl was low in her voice. "The issue with the next heir and dual authority; all that drama she caused." Her eyes rolled as her hands lifted to squeeze the air as if reliving the trauma and confusion of that time.
In the end, she wagged her head with a sigh. "And then she dies from a cold? So inconsiderate- How very like her. Selfish and rash till the very end. So dramatic." She laughed darkly before dropping her shoulders to look down at his father.
"If she'd marry you, she'd probably have lived." His mother then turned to press a kiss on his Father's cheek. His Father cracked a smile before holding her hand.
"I doubt I'd be able to handle her. But it is very like her to do that." He murmured back before tilting his neck up, noticing the sound of heels in the hall. "Oh, here they come." But he didn't need to say it. All three could feel the thunderous feeling of Hidi's heels clicking down the hall with a boom. The giant was the first to be seen.
"Very like her?"He repeated the words as he could hear the voices coming up. The giant's deafening voice was the easiest to hear. She seemed to be laughing and teasing at something. But he quickly forgot her when the red shawl came into view. There she was, the petite girl walking in the middle of the two and looking comically like a child between her companions.
Mykhol focused on Ana's face—her small heart-shaped face, her large doe-like eyes, her thick lower lip tucked into a neat cupid's bow. Her slight growth spurt gave her more feminine curves. Her chest and hips slowly shaped under her tunic. She really was becoming quite the mirror image.
He licked his lips and suddenly found them dry. "Yes, very like her." He murmured softly.
She does look like Aunt Parsul, there was no question. Her mother practically beamed from her features, making her visage easy to identify. But that only made him furrow his brows at the strange thought. Ana looked so much like the late empress. But what features did she share with her father?
On that note, he glanced up just in time to catch the man's sapphire gaze. It made his back stiffen at the sight. He wasn't ready for that, but equally, he couldn't afford to look away. There was something crucial about not breaking their stare. His sapphire versus his vermillion gaze felt like a challenge—a battle of wills; no, something deeper. He could sense it as the man narrowed his eyes at him. As if already passing judgment.
The two quietly seemed to stare at each other. King Alexander's gaze was cold and hard, not smiling as he appeared to for either of his children. It was no longer the expression of a kind and loving father, but rather one of a man viewing an unwanted intruder—a threat to his family.
How funny? Mykhol could say the same towards him, as his eyes flicked down to the hand that still held his. Ana's pale hand was ensnared in the human's grubby hold. It instantly made him scrunch up his nose, not liking her touching him. It was dirty. He was human. She was better than that to hold the likes of his hand.
She should be holding his hand, instead. Yet, his gaze drifted away from it, focusing on him instead. His eyes searched for signs of the genetic bond between father and daughter.
Though Mykhol would never admit it out loud, he noticed Bruno looked a little like him around the eyes, and recently, his smile became more apparent. It was clear he was HIS son. But not strongly that anyone could call it out yet. But just enough that he didn't question if Naska might have slept around. Bruno did look like him; even by a slight trace, Mykhol could see it. But then, what about Ana?
What trait did they share? Was it the shape of their brow? Their jaw line? Their ear? Mykhol looked, but he couldn't see anything. The man's dark skin, his wide lips, his firm jaw—it was not in Ana's face. She looked more like a vampire despite her mixed breed silver hair, than the man holding her hand. Like he was more of a stranger. Their only relationship being betrayed by how physically affectionate he was.
Otherwise, how could anyone tell? The question rang a profound note through him. Why didn't she take after her father, even if just the slightest bit? Surely, children weren't completely clones of their parents. Something would mix, wouldn't it?
It seemed rather…odd. But Mykhol shelved the thought for later as the three finally joined them.
"Your Highnesses, Your Empress," Mykhol moved to bow as the trio came into the room.
"Oh look, an audience," Hidi boomed, pointing to the stream of others entering.
Lifting his head, Mykhol caught the flamboyant Duke Zaver and his suitors finally reaching the Lobby. They looked red in the face from the icy air or running to try to meet them. Either way, they looked messy, pathetic, and not all attractive.
Unlike me, he smiled inwardly, feeling proud of himself for looking his best. Another point to make him the best option. The only REAL option. But where he would like to gloat on it a little longer, it was the presence of another coming up to pass them that made him still.
Unlike the hazarded look of Duke Zaver and his fellow suitors, the human was relatively relaxed. His head and shoulders held back as he strolled in on his boots. His pace was leisurely and familiar as his brown eyes stayed ahead. His expression barely moved as he stopped before them to greet them.
"Your Majesty," Admiral Nugen bowed before lifting his head to meet the other and look past him. "Welcome back."
"It's good to be back." King Alexander smiled slightly, but it looked neither friendly nor cold. Something was strained within it, an unmeasured tone in his voice. And it seemed to speak volumes between both humans as they fell into a slight pause regarding each other.
Something about the sight of the two clicked behind his eyes. Some strange notion that left him watching a moment longer than necessary.
There were two humans, two humans who date back to the time of Empress Parsuls' reign. Both were here, and both knew each other.
"Two humans," Mykhol whispered, lingering on the sight. His eye fell from the king to the admiral, not really looking in particular for some trace of resemblance. But was it just his imagination, or did the Admrial have a slight kink to his choppy hair? Like a subtle wave that could turn into a spiraled curl if he just let it grow long enough. Just like Ana's–
No, it couldn't be. Mykhol already dismissed it. Refusing to look any further. The very idea made his stomach turn a little. It was likely nothing. He was just seeing things. There was simply no way that Admiral Nugen was Ana's father.