Chapter Text
Branzy’s foot tapped on the marbled floor, flipping through one of the many books she had grabbed on the way to Rek’s room earlier in the morning.
Next to the stack two plates sat. A breakfast of sausage and egg growing cold and only half touched.
Rek prodded at the food, a piece of bread in hand and fork stuck in the same bit of sausage from a minute ago. His eyes were unfocused as they took interest in the wooden table between them.
As Branzy huffed, apparently not finding whatever she was looking for and setting the book to the side and on the ground by her feet.
She looked to Rek, pausing before moving the stack to the side and bringing her own plate towards her.
“Eat, Rek. Neither of us do well on an empty stomach.” She talked as if she had even touched her plate before then.
With a blink he was back to their reality, glancing to her before looking down at his breakfast.
“Yeah- Ah. Sorry.” He dropped the fork and bread, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands, “I’m just-…”
His elbows rested on the table as his head was propped up by his knuckles.
“Well you know what helps with stress? Not being hungry.” She insisted, starting to cut up her own food.
He listened begrudgingly, picking back up the utensil and eating but looking less than thrilled about it.
The already tense atmosphere in the room grew, only the sound of the breeze from a cracked window and metal against the platter heard in the room.
It was a colder morning. Breeze passing by and clouds coming over the mountainous horizon. Possibly a storm but it was too early to tell.
The air it brought it was fresh. Lightening up the stuffy nature in the castle’s wall.
Branzy breathed, a sigh of something unplaceable. Looking over as the windows curtains flowed with the breeze. Adding movement to the otherwise static room.
“You should open the window more,” She commented, pausing her breakfast as she took a glance about the rest of the room, “I think it would help your mood.”
Now that wasn’t to say that Rek was the grumpy type, just stressed and on edge. Constantly it seemed.
Of course being the next head of the family might have put a giant smoking target on his back. Branzy couldn’t count the times someone’s tried to kill either of them.
Rek had every right to be paranoid, but that didn’t mean it was good for him.
He hummed a type of acknowledgement, taking a moment to chew as his brows furrowed.
After a beat he looked to the books, asking, “What are you even looking for?” before taking his gaze back to his platter.
“The Crimson Empire is well known.” He added, confused. They were a well known family and country. Incredibly established in the land and recognized for their rigid military forces.
She nodded, curling a finger at her lips as she chewed before answering.
“While the country itself is well documented we don’t really know much about the family themselves,” She started, setting her utensils down and folding her hands on her lap, “When it comes to things like diplomatic meetings, galas, dinners, no member of the true family has ever participated. They have always sent an ambassador in their stead.” She looked to him, legs crossing as she leaned back in her chair.
“Lady Zam, sweet girl. But anyways-“ Branzy had talked with her a handful of times, but only professionally.
“We only have names, never faces, never knowing what they act like aside from rumor. The family is incredibly secretive and reclusive. How they manage that large of a population without stepping a foot outside their home I will never know.” She hummed, thinking to herself more than she was talking to Rek.
“I’m just looking around to see what I can find. If there even is anything to find. Anything that might give me an idea of what to do in this situation…” She let out a breath, words straining as she kept talking, her attention dragged to the stack of books, breakfast platter forgotten as she pushed it to the side and pulled the book at the top to now lay open in front of her.
It’d help to have any idea of what to prepare themselves for. Mentally and emotionally at the very least, at best a plan to call off the wedding.
She was still trying to wrap her own mind around a plan. Everything leads to a dead end.
Can’t go to their parents, they arranged the whole thing. Can’t run away, tried that before and Branzy was found quickly, and even then she had no idea what to do afterwards even if she did make her way out. Neither of them had work experience or any connections outside the castle or other noble courts. Can’t kill themselves, for obvious reasons of that’s the whole thing they’re trying to avoid.
Branzy was barely looking at the letters on the page at this point, leg restless and tapping as she delved back into thought.
A train of thought that was cut off as there was a knock at the door that made them both jump. Branzy blinking back and Rek nearly dropping his fork.
Branzy looked to her brother as he muttered incoherently before calling behind him. “Who is it?”
At the commotion the person behind the door hesitated to respond, but ultimately answered back, “Ah- It’s-… Parrot. Can I come in?”
Rek twisted in his chair to look back and to the door, taking a moment to look back to Branzy, who gave him a hesitant nod, “Come on in!” He looked to the door as it opened.
The man stepped in, lacking his usual uniform of armor, instead wearing simple clothes aside from his usual feathered cloak, which he seemed to always be wearing no matter the situation. It stood as odd because at this time he should have been on duty. Both siblings took note as they glanced to each other.
“Dude-“ Parrot tried to speak but Rek accidentally cut him off, “Parrot what are you-?” Parrot, in turn, spoke over Rekrap, “Bro, you were supposed to meet us at the stables half an hour ago.”
Within a blink Rek’s face went from an expression of puzzlement to realization to apologetically panicked. Both Rek and Branzy looking first out the window, finding the sun higher than they thought possible, and then to the grandfather clocked that stood a bit to the side of the door.
The same time every other week on Saturday, as it was the only day the rest had off. Rek and his friends would “go hunting” for most of the day to just get him out of the castle. Really it was more exploring the forest than actually hunting and catching anything, and Branzy knew from Rek that they even rode into town once. She was surprised the group wasn’t caught.
Rek looked between Parrot and Branzy. With a flourish of her wrist she held up a finger, making Rek blink as he watched her.
“You should go,” She started, pushing her hand further towards him as his mouth opened to say something, “I can read by myself, I can think by myself, I can plan by myself. I do not need your help at the moment and it cannot hurt to spend a couple hours away to de-stress, especially right now.”
Rek watched her, gripping the edge of the table as he stared. He barely got a breath in before she started waving a hand to dismiss him from his own room.
“Yes I’m sure,” she assured him, “Now go, you don’t have the daylight forever.”
He glanced once more between the two. Parrot stared at Rek with only a brow raised and face unamused, and as the princes’ gaze lingered on the man in the doorway Pareot waved a hand to urge Rek to hurry up.
Rek sighed, and with a huff of resignation stood to follow Parrot.
He hesitated at the doorframe, second guessing and looking to Branzy who only gave a small smile and a wave.
Rek responded in kind, waving and disappearing behind the door with a click of the latch.
Branzy now sat alone in his chambers, sighing as she looked over the stack before her, not out of displeasure, but of firm commitment.
———————————————
For hours she ran through the texts she had brought up from the library, breaking here and there to walk or demand food from the servants.
She was determined to find something that could offer help in freeing Rek from the impending contract.
Some legal loophole, maybe a curse or witchcraft if they got really desperate, or even some simple but sneaky way to render the marriage nullified.
She worked through page after page, frustration growing with each cover she closed, finding nothing she didn’t already know.
She worked back, hoping to have misremembered something from a book she’d skimmed but even as she wracked her brain, flicked through books, and paced the room trying to figure something out, she came up blank each time.
She paused by the window, one hand over her mouth as she looked out as if the landscape would give her any ideas.
With a sigh both her hands were brought up to rub at her face.
The sun was high over the castle now, away from the window and probably setting bellow the horizon, the sky slowly sliding from day to dusk.
She turned her back to the glass, facing the opposing wall. The grandfather clock still ticked on, the only sound in the room as a simple but steady reminder of the heiress’ impending arrival.
From her face to the sides of her head she rubbed at her temple, rummaging in her memory to try and recall any sort of gossip from the various events she had attended.
Thinking back she could only find a few instances of the family or anything related to them being mentioned.
The first she could think of wasn’t too far back, she thought. Though as she thought more it had been about five to six years ago.
———————————————
Gold was the first thing that came to her mind.
Each bit of the room lined with shimmering metal. From floor to ceiling ornate vines decorated the ballroom.
Music played as people danced, tune matching the grandeur of the palace it filled.
She’d taken Skip, Fail and Jay with her if only to get in without much questioning. Skip stayed with her to dance while the other two off somewhere munching on the refreshment provided by the host.
They moved with highs and lows of the music, a revered dance that each other attendee matched. Shoes moving rhythmically on the marbled floor that showed itself to be almost as detailed as the rest of the room.
The pace picked up, Skips hand around her waist growing firmer as they both tensed to keep up with the rest.
They swayed with each string of the orchestra. The two, while still facing each other, looked distracted, eyes unfocused as they honed in more on the music than each other.
What was once an expression of everything human now made them move in a quiet code of conduct. Silent social construct keeping bound to the floor until the end of the song.
No one else was leaving, so they couldn’t. They’d be seen as rude, or as lesser of being unable to make it through with their partner. A thought each and every individual probably had. An assumption that kept them trapped as the tempo sped up. Dance turning to a frantic march they flowed with it, breaths held and focus purely on their own feet.
With a flourish of their partner, the women were dipped low and the song concluded. Some making the mistake of pulling their partner up and forced to pull the other back down to fit with what everyone else was doing.
Skip was lucky enough to catch onto the audio clues of the song and stood holding Branzy dipped nearly till her head hit the floor. Lucky for them both.
The crowd was still for a long moment, breathing as well as they could as the ladies breath in gasps due to corsets cinched far too tight. Gasps that were stifled for the sake of politeness.
The stillness was long enough for her to spot something that stood out to her as odd.
Lady Zam stood to the side of the ballroom talking with some guard with armor Branzy couldn’t recognize. It was near pitch black with decoration of red and silver. She was speaking from behind her hand fan, but obviously in some sort of conversation with the guard.
“Ah-… Branzy?” Skip’s voice pitched as he still stood, straining to hold her in the awkward position for so long. He wasn’t the strongest twig in the forest, and Branzy had always been a bigger woman.
Branzy pulled on Skip’s shoulder and he helped pull her up. She was quick to look back to where Zam and the dark guard were standing.
She strained to look over peoples heads but was able to catch a glance at the two, thankfully right where she left them.
Skip was saying something but he was cut off as Branzy grabbed him by his arm and pulled him to her side. Linking their arms while still watching that spot before glancing up at him to catch him looking at her, curious.
She looked back and Skip’s gaze following hers. She felt his hand on her arm, Skip now understanding what she had been looking to, and guiding them to the table that sat not too far from the two.
Branzy stifled a huff as the music started back up, making it harder to hear any conversations that they’d be wanting to eavesdrop on.
But despite the noise they made their way to the table, Branzy silently thankful for the chairs that sat against the wall, and Skip guiding her to sit down with a nod.
Though as they still looked to each other, their gaze unfocused, their ears strained to the conversation next to them.
“Good….” An effeminate yet strong voice came first, followed by a light sigh, “I’m sorry for-… Pestering. I just-“ She was cut off, the voice of what they assumed was the guard cutting in, “No, I understand your concern, Zam.”
Skip slowly pulled a couple of glasses from the table, passing one to Branzy and holding onto the other. Trying to look like they were paying any attention to each other instead of the others.
“We all want this to go well,” The guard started again, “and it has. The last number was a perfect distraction Zam. Really, it was brilliant.”
Branzy and Skip blinked at each other as they stopped looking about the room silently.
A high pitched whine came from the lady, “It was mostly Jumper’s idea-“
“But you still helped, correct?” The guard cut her off, tone firm but fond.
There was a stretched silence, assuming agreement the conversation kept moving.
“We have done our part Zam, please just enjoy the rest of the event.”
A lighthearted groan came from the girl, a huff before she concluded the interaction, “Fiiineeee…. Good luck Minute.”
The sound of armor moved as footsteps came toward them, both Skip and Branzy tensed, looking to each other within a blink before taking a glance to the side to find Zam making her was towards the table.
———————————————
After that they just had a bit of small talk with her, had some of the food that was laid out, they had a damn good shortcake, and then Branzy stood to drag Skip off and away back to the floor.
A man was murdered at that party. A noble found dead at the bottom of one of the manors balconies in the bushes. Stabbed through the eye and pushed off the ledge.
Skip and her talked over that day, sharing theories.
Gods, it’s been too long since she had seen Skip.
She huffed, moving to sit back down and to the table she had been reading at for the past few hours.
The memory was obviously a curious thing, but offered no real information on what she needed to know.
She paused, what did she even need to know?
She still, after the whole day, had no ideas to help out Rek.
With a whine her head fell to the table, eyes shut as she gently banged her head on the wood.
After a long moment of sitting with her head down she pulled herself up, propping her head up with her elbow on the table.
Her other hand moved to drum against the surface. Brows furrowed as she watched the wall unfocused.
She delved deeper, sifting through thought after thought trying to make out anything that could be useful.
She sifted through the various times she had talked with Zam.
It had only been a few times. Once at that very ball, a handful of times in passing, and maybe only once or twice Branzy had actually had a proper conversation with her.
———————————————
She and Rek had laughed along, not on from their own amusement. It was a polite gesture as they sat with the conversation. Trying to not garner too much attention and just passively watch the interaction.
It was a peaceful spring day out in the manors garden. She and Rek had been a guest at the lords house for a few weeks. She had only been allowed to go with Rek and he was kind enough to go with her.
Zam was only there for the day and the lord’s daughters were keen to show her around, and so Rek and Branzy followed.
They now walked the garden, taking in the sights as they conversed.
“Oh gods…” Zam giggled, “I’ve never had much luck with it…” She paused, waving her fan absentmindedly as she looked away as if in thought. Having been on the topic of courtship and the odd interactions that came with the tradition.
Rek and Branzy had only been partially listening, the two getting somewhat distracted by the various odd statues around the garden, lagging back to have a chuckle over, at least to them, the absolutely absurd design choices. Men made of stone that had no heads and instead with floral arrangements in their place, the heads themselves then found in the pond.
When they had turned back and caught up the conversation had shifted.
“He was sweet but-….” Zam was talking over her own tale of romance. “He was…. Odd.” It was unclear what she meant by that as the sisters looked to Zam inquisitively.
She didn’t seem to take note of it though. She kept walking down the path of the garden.
One sister giggled, “On the topic of being unlucky with romance….” She glanced to the rest of them as if about to say something important.
“Poor Clown, right?” I had been only a few weeks since her last husband was found dead in their bedroom floor.
With a blink Zam looked to her, a tint to her gaze Branzy had caught immediately, but they all seemed to miss.
Zam forced a very convincing whine of distress. “Oh gods! She has just-… She’s just devastated…” Her tone would have been convincing if she didn’t have a habit of stuttering when she was nervous or excited.
“I can’t even-… I won’t speak for her but-…” Her voice wavered, Branzy and the sister jumping to her side as Zam teared up. “I am her friend and I can only worry for her!” Dragging the conversation away from the heiress herself and onto Zam.
———————————————
She didn’t say anything. It wasn’t her place nor her business.
Before it wasn’t her brother who had been at the mercy of the heiress.
The more she thought it over the more curious she was about the girl.
She was an ambassador, obviously intelligent, but also charismatic, charming and beautiful by all accounts.
Dark and warm olive skin with shoulder length golden hair. Every instance Branzy had ever seen her Zam had been wearing ornate dresses and shining jewelry. She was obviously well taken care of, and at nearly every instance she could likely have the men wrapped around her finger.
“Fuck…” Branzy whispered under her breath, realizing she had gotten sidetracked.
Moving to hold her head with both hands she sighed heavily, eyes strained shut.
She peeked through her eyelashes at the scattered books on the table.
What if she couldn’t help Rek?
The thought came to her dreadfully quickly.
She didn’t like the feeling of being helpless, powerless. It was all too familiar.
The grandfather clock ticked quickly, steady still.
What would she tell Rek when he got back? Would he trust her still? She had insisted on him going, insisted that she could think of something. She lied, and she had waisted a day with not being enough.
She had to drag herself out of the mindset that she was slowly sinking into.
Shooting up from her seat her hands met the wooden table with a thump. She stared down at it disdainfully.
She had to remind herself that they had time. Time before Clown got there and time before the wedding, they had time to plan and time to think.
She didn’t waste time, she just double triple checked that they were sure that they knew nothing about the family. So now they wouldn’t waste time wondering for the rest of the week.
Yep.
So helpful.
She hated to admit that she’d have to get help with this.
But tomorrow.
She clapped her hands together, taking a breath as she looked over Rek’s room, counting up the books that now laid about the chamber.
She moved to round them up and bring them back to the library. At least they know now that it wouldn’t be of any help.
Most still laid on the table, a few by its legs on the floor, one on Rek’s bed, another on his bedside table.
She stepped out of the room to call over a maid to help her carry them back. The girl startled by the sudden calling of, “You!” but ultimately willing to help.
They collected the bound books, Branzy dropping her stack as she bumped into the table but waving the girl off to go ahead without her as she bent down to pick them up.
It was nearly dark as she crouched and stacked the books back onto the table, room only dimly lit by a few lanterns as the sun fell over the other end of the horizon that the window wouldn’t be able to catch.
As she rose rapid footsteps sounded far down the hall, faint enough that at first she paid them no mind.
She picked up the stack, more carefully this time, and turned to the door. Pacing over and opening it with the tip of her foot.
She took only a step out before she caught sight of who was behind the frantic foot falls. As the maid drew closer they sped up, from a jog to a run they picked up their skirt for better movement.
Branzy froze as they skidded to a halt next to her, and past her, pushing the door more fully open and calling out to the empty room, “Sire!”
She blinked, brows furrowing as she watched them. “He’s not here at the moment.”
The servant looked to her, hands on their knees as they breathed. At first looking pained and then down at the ground they stood panting.
Branzy glanced between their tense posture and into Rek’s room. With a tinge of curiosity to her voice she asked, “What’s going on?”
With a hiss the servant stood, still breathing unevenly, hands entwining together, they looked at her hesitantly, shoulders tensing. Their voice was tired, pitching up in a type of panic as they shrugged and spoke through their teeth, “The Crimson Empire is here five days early.”
Well. Branzy always worked best under pressure and panic.