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Prison was boring. Varian hates that at first; the endless days of nothing to do but think about what he’d done and what they had done and who was more at fault. Days of his resolve to hate finally starting to wear down only to be built back up by his annoyingly egotistical cellmate. Days spent in a yo-yo of confusion and emotional turmoil.
After the first few weeks, he began to see that boring wasn’t so bad. Boring was better than the alternative, which was the guards realizing they were bored and livening things up by taking it out on the prisoners. Varian grew to appreciate the boredom, because boredom meant safety.
That’s why, in the middle of the night, he woke abruptly to the sound of shouting and heavy footsteps and immediately flew into a panic. He pressed himself up against the wall of the cell, putting a hand to his racing heart. What did they want? Were they here to claim a victim? No, from the noise of the rattling of chains and the threats being hurled—very creative ones, he had to admit—he guessed that another prisoner was being brought in.
The troop of guards dragged their prisoner down the row of cells, stopping at an empty one right across from Varian and Andrew’s. One of the guards let go of the newbie to unlock the cell and got kicked halfway down the hall. Judging by the number of guards (about 7) and the number of chains (at least 15), this was a high-risk convict. Varian hadn’t seen this much ado made for a newbie since he was brought in, and he’d only had five guards.
Eventually, they managed to get the door open and get the prisoner inside. One of the guards got bitten, blood splattering across the wall and his white glove. He howled in pain and slammed the door shut. Then he and his companions started to stalk off down the hallway.
The one who got bitten looked over to see Varian watching. He slammed his uninjured hand against the bars, causing Varian to flinch. “What are you looking at, brat?”
“N-nothing, sir,” he whispered. Be respectful. Always respectful. That was what some of the other prisoners told him. Andrew disagreed, but he got targeted a lot more than the others, so maybe there was something to it.
The guard growled and stormed off. Varian sighed in relief, turning his attention to his new prison mate. It was difficult to see him, what with the dim torchlight and the bars and the fact that the man wouldn’t stop pacing. His laborious breathing was raspy, echoing against the stone walls. His chained hands clenched at his hair painfully.
Varian winced. He’d been there. He waited a few minutes to see if the man would calm down on his own. When that didn’t happen, Varian stood and crossed to the bars. “Pacing makes it worse,” he stated simply. “Makes it feel smaller. Try sitting for a bit.”
The man listened, surprisingly, and sat on the edge of his cot. He still gripped at his hair, he still breathed like weights were pressing on his lungs, but he at least was still for a moment. Varian didn’t recognize him from around Corona, and his clothes were definitely not traditional here.
“I get it,” Varian spoke softly. “I panicked when they brought me in, too. You’ll get used to it.” As he spoke, the man seemed to calm somewhat, still not looking up but breathing easier.
“Can’t—don’t like being caged,” he growled. “Hate being trapped.”
“Yeah, me too.” He looked over to Andrew, who was still passed out on his cot. The man would sleep through a prison break. “What are you in for?”
The man shook his head. “I asked too many questions,” he spat bitterly.
“Oh, yeah, that’s a big no-no around here. We mustn’t question our overlords.” That got a laugh out of the man. “What kind of questions?”
The man turned his head slightly, still not looking up, but he did release his death-grip on his hair. “My brother was killed here. I wanted to find out what happened, and the next thing I know, I’m getting tossed in here. I think whoever killed him is someone in power.” He straightened slightly. “What about you? You’re just a kid.”
“Treason.”
“Nice.”
They spoke for a few more minutes, until the newbie seemed to be getting tired. Varian waited until the man fell asleep to return to his cot. He gritted his teeth in anger. The Coronans were persecuting a man who had done nothing more than ask about his deceased family. How typical for them. This was the same type of corruption that sent guards to his home for information, that drove a man like Andrew to try to get vengeance for his people. This was the corruption that ran deep under the surface, that stirred people to rebellion and then punished them.
Something had to be done.
O‴O‴O‴
The next morning, he stirred to the noise of the guards bringing their meager breakfast. Typical for the Coronans, they didn’t bring anything for the newbie. They’d done the same to him the first night, so he did what Andrew had done for him. As soon as the guards left, he slid the tray across the narrow hall. It came to rest at the base of the bars.
The man, already awake and pacing, looked over at him. “What are you doing?”
“You need to eat.”
“So do you.”
“I’ll be fine. I don’t eat a lot. You need to keep up your strength.”
“Kid’s right,” Andrew stared, finally rising from his cot. “The first few days, they’re going to have it out for you especially. You need to be ready.”
The newbie hesitated a moment more before slowly reaching out and taking the food. “Check it,” Varian warned. “Sometimes they put stuff in it.” As the man ate, Varian explained his situation to Andrew, seeing the same rage cross his expression that Varian had felt last night and still felt.
“You see what these people do,” Andrew whispered. “I know you’re still undecided, but the time to act is coming soon. I need to know if you’re with us. We can stop anyone else from getting hurt like you did, like he did. So you need to make up your mind soon.”
Varian hesitated, and Andrew put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s a big decision, and there’s still time. But think. We can get justice for your dad. For the newbie’s brother. We can keep anyone else from getting hurt.”
Varian sighed. “I know. And I want to help! I just... is this the right thing to do? What if the Coronans get hurt?”
“Why do you care?” Andrew snapped. Varian flinched, and Andrew softened his tone. “Sorry, buddy. I didn’t mean to yell at you. But the Coronans have done nothing but stab people in the back for years.”
“Not all of them. There are innocent people out there!”
“Okay, okay, that’s fair. I give you my word we won’t hurt anyone we don’t have to. Deal?”
They shook hands. “Deal.”
“And hey,” Andrew added, “we could always get the newbie’s help. He seems tough, given what you said about him last night.”
“He also has ears,” the man called from the other cell. “What, are you planning a breakout or something?”
“Would you be interested if we were?” Andrew’s eyes held that shrewd glint they got when he prepared to talk his way into or out of a situation.
“Maybe I would. One requirement. I want you to help me get answers. I need to know what happened here. What happened to my brother.”
“Sounds fair. I think we can arrange that. You fight with us, you’ll get your answers. Anyway, name’s Andrew. This is my cellmate Varian. And you are?”
The man stepped closer to the bars, his yellow eyes gleaming in the early morning light. “Hector.”
O‴O‴O‴
The breakout went rather smoothly, all things considered. Andrew’s cohorts managed to sneak in enough chemicals for Varian to whip up the needed weapons and distribute them to the rebels.
Hector was a force of nature, ripping through their opponents with the strength of a whirlwind. Varian had cautioned him not to kill anyone—they could merely throw them in the cells they had previously guarded—but most, if not all, of them would wake up with severe headaches. The warrior fought with barely-restrained rage, tearing through their lines as easily as if this were a summer picnic.
Varian found himself in awe of their ally. The man was as strong as an ox, as quick as lightning, and he had a temper as volatile as an unstable chemical reaction.
The two of them got along well. Varian was the one person here Hector didn’t seem to hold thinly-veiled disgust for, and the alchemist attributed that to his attempts to reach out the first night. During the planning stage—which Hector and Varian had both had to strategically salvage multiple times, since Andrew was less wise in the ways of battle as he was in preening—Varian had been the one who calmed the situation down when things got too tense between the adults. Hector thought Andrew was a pompous fluffhead with nothing between his ears, and Andrew thought Hector was a loose cannon.
All things considered, it was a miracle one or the other didn’t stoop to murder. Giving Hector a target other than Andrew helped, and Andrew wasn’t dumb enough to try anything against Hector while he held a sword.
Infiltrating and securing the castle was relatively easy. For a few moments, Varian thought this might actually work. Everyone had done their jobs perfectly. Nothing disturbed their victory.
It was too easy.
Sure enough, the sound of yelling came from a room a few doors down. Varian, in his new role as the king’s “most trusted advisor,” quickly rushed the man through one of the side doors as Hector kicked Andrew through the main doors and into the throne room.
“What the crap!” Varian snapped. “Mr. Hector, what are you doing? We have an alliance!”
“An alliance is only good if both parties hold up their end of the deal,” the man snarled, not taking his eyes off Andrew. The Saporian, for his part, looked absolutely terrified. He scootched backwards, scrambling to his feet and cowering behind Varian.
“What are you talking about?” Varian demanded. “What did he do?”
“Oh, I dunno, how about ERASING THE MEMORY OF THE ONLY PERSON WHO COULD GIVE ME ANSWERS!!!” Hector stalked closer, sword ready. “If I can’t have answers, I might as well get revenge.”
“There’s other ways,” Andrew insisted, voice lacking its usual carefree confidence. “If you’re sure that someone in power is responsible, we can interrogate the nobles. Someone will know something.” He put a hand on Varian’s shoulder. “And hey, Varian here is a Coronan. Maybe he knows something.”
“It’s not like I know everyone in Corona,” Varian reminded him.
Andrew gave him a stern look as if to say get me out of the mess I just made or you’re doomed. “Well, you want to help our good friend here, don’t you? You may have heard something.”
He groaned. “Fine. What was your brother’s name?”
Hector’s eyes took on a distant and pained look. “Quirin. Quirin of Old Corona.”
O‴O‴O‴
Varian couldn’t breathe. His chest constricted, and black and orange spots danced across his vision. He opened his mouth, but no sound escaped.
“Varian? Hey, buddy, talk to me.” Andrew waved his hand in front of his face.
“I... I n-need a min-minute,” He stumbled backwards, spinning around and running from the room. His heartbeat thudded in his ears, in time with the sound of his boots on the tile floor as he fled.
Quirin’s brother. His father’s brother. His dad’s brother, who was out for blood against whoever had murdered him. Who was willing to kill just for information on the murder.
Who would kill Varian when he found out.
Suddenly all Hector’s impressive skill with the sword was looking a lot less like a useful advantage for their side and more like a threat.
He made his way to the royal gardens and collapsed on a stone bench. Past the racing of his heart, he heard footsteps. Jolting up in panic, he sighed when he saw it was only Andrew.
His former cellmate sat next to him. “Well, that went well.”
Varian gave a choppy laugh and leaned his head on Andrew’s arm. “What am I going to do? He’s going to kill me! He’s going to find out what I did, and he’ll kill me!”
“Maybe not.”
“What?”
“Kid,” Andrew sighed. “I really thought I taught you better than this. There is a very simple solution to your problem.”
“And that is...”
“Lie.” He laughed at Varian’s shocked expression. “Oh, come on. It’s not like you haven’t done it before.”
“You want me to lie to the angry man with a sword?”
“Do you want to live?” He took Varian by his shoulders. “Look, I need you alive. And we need Hector as an ally. So figure something out.” His grip on his shoulders tightened uncomfortably for a moment before he let go.
O‴O‴O‴
Varian avoided Hector for the next few days, unable to look him in the eyes. He had to tell him something, though, and paltry excuses about needing to find more information and do some digging would only last so long.
He couldn’t put it off forever, though, and he met Hector and Andrew in the study as they poured over maps of the kingdom. They looked up as he entered. “I’m... I need to talk to you,” he told the warrior. “It—it’s about your brother.”
Hector turned and leaned against the table, not speaking but just waiting.
Varian met Andrew’s eyes, and the man gave him a warning glare. “I—Quirin’s my dad,” he whispered. He watched as Hector’s eyes widened, but he kept talking, rushing ahead before the man could interrupt. “He—it’s my fault. I created the amber. I didn’t know it would do that... it was an accident—he pushed me. He saved me.” Tears streaked down his face as he spoke, but he could still see Andrew’s furious glare. “He’s not dead,” Varian gasped out. “He’s not—I can save him! That’s why I did all of this. Committed treason. I have to save him, and no one else was going to help, the princess wasn’t going to help... I have to save him...”
Hector straightened and stalked closer to Varian. For the first time, the alchemist saw the gleam of steel by the warrior’s side as he turned. How long has he had his sword out? Varian had to tilt his head to look up at the man as he towered over him, eyes narrowed in a stormy glare.
For several long, agonizing seconds, Hector said nothing. He merely continued to stare down at the small child at his mercy. Andrew shrewdly kept his distance.
“You really think you can bust that rock open?” Hector’s voice was low, deadly, threatening.
“I won’t stop until I do,” Varian whispered.
The warrior sized him up for a moment. Then he flicked his wrist, retracting his blade. He stepped past Varian and left the study, slamming the door on his way out.
Varian gasped, breathing freely for the first time since he’d entered the room. He sank to his knees, and Andrew quickly stepped over to him, putting a hand on his arm. “That went better than I expected,” he said cheerily. Then his grip tightened, causing Varian to wince. “But next time, don’t disobey me.” He patted Varian on the back and left.
O‴O‴O‴
It was Hector’s turn to avoid everyone now, and it was almost a week before he and Varian were in the same room together for more than five seconds. Varian tried not to let it get to him. He stayed busy with being the “royal advisor” and working on his alchemy. He had a promise to keep, and he would keep it if it was the last thing he did.
But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss Hector. The warrior’s easy camaraderie and snarky comments had been a welcome relief in prison. Not that Andrew was a bad cellmate, just a little self-absorbed and sometimes harsh.
Speaking of harshness...
He kept his head down as he walked through the halls to the kitchen. Andrew was in a bad mood, if his visit to Varian’s lab a few minutes ago was any indication. It was late, and with any luck, he wouldn’t run into anyone.
That hope was dashed as he entered the kitchen to see Hector sitting on the counter, half a loaf of bread in his mouth and an apple in both hands. Varian’s eyes widened, and he turned to flee, but Hector moved before he could, vaulting off the counter and blocking Varian’s way to the door.
The warrior set his food on the counter and crossed his arms. Varian’s breathing quickened. Had he changed his mind? Was revenge more important than the possibility of getting Quirin out of the amber?
He stepped back, and Hector’s arm shot out. Varian flinched. The man stopped, letting his hand hover for a second, before reaching out and gently tilting Varian’s face towards the lamplight. “Who did this?” he hissed.
Varian pulled away, turning his head to hide the bruise. “No one. I fell. I’m not exactly graceful.”
“Kid, if everyone actually fell who said they fell, I might not doubt you. I’m sure you’re clumsy, but I know what it looks like when someone gets hit in the face. Who did this?”
“No one. Can I go?”
Hector stared at him, unconvinced, but he stepped aside to let Varian pass.
O‴O‴O‴
After that, Varian made a bigger effort to stay on Andrew’s good side. He stayed up later, got up earlier, and worked even harder on his projects. The last thing he needed was Hector getting any ideas about challenging Andrew over his methods of “motivation.” It was too easy to tell who would be the victor in that confrontation.
If he could just get the Quirineon made, he’d be fine. He could focus more time and effort on the amber problem. But as he hit roadblock after roadblock, he inevitably always turned back to the sketches he’d drawn of the amber and start plotting that again.
It was on one of these occasions that Andrew stormed into the lab, his face twisted in anger and stress. “Tell me you’ve got something,” he growled. He leaned over the table as Varian tried unsuccessfully to slide the sketches and plans under something else. Andrew snatched one of the sketches before he could hide it and stared. “This again?”
“I have to get it done,” Varian whispered.
“No, what you have to do is what I tell you. I need that chemical. I assume if you’re working on this again, that means you’re done with it?”
“N-not yet. But I’ll get it, just be patient!”
“Patient?” Andrew put a hand on Varian’s shoulder. “I’m not a patient person. And I don’t appreciate you wasting my time!” He lifted his other hand to strike Varian.
Before the alchemist could pull away or raise his arms to defend himself, a hand snagged Andrew’s wrist. Hector yanked Andrew around to face him, grabbing him by the collar and slamming his forehead against the man’s face. Blood spurted from Andrew’s nose, staining his skin and shirt as Hector dropped him in a senseless heap on the floor.
“Been wanting to do that for weeks,” he said with a grin, mindless of the blood on his forehead.
Varian turned away, stomach churning at the sight of the blood. He fumbled with the papers, recollecting his research.
“You okay, kid?” Hector asked.
“I’ll get it done,” He rasped numbly. “I can do it. I just need more time.”
“What? I’m not here for that.” He shook his head as Varian tried to present the papers to him.
“Then what—What are you here for?” He kept his gaze just over the warrior’s shoulder, unable to look down for Andrew in the floor or look at Hector for the blood on his forehead.
“I saw Mr. Prissypants over here looking like someone salted his sheets. Figured I’d make sure he didn’t give you any trouble.”
“You... you were trying to protect me?”
“Uhh, yeah?”
Varian glanced up at Hector, his brow furrowed in suspicion. “Why.”
Hector grimaced. “Whaddaya mean ‘why?’ You were just about to get the stuffing beat out of you, that’s why.”
“No, that’s not— why do you care? A-As long as I can still work, it.... it shouldn’t matter what Andrew does to me.”
Hector’s expression fell a bit. “Kid, I ain’t just gonna stand idly by and let Crapsack McGee beat you black and blue—"
“Why shouldn’t you??” Varian snapped, gritting his teeth. “You.... you wouldn’t even be here if I wasn’t such a screw up! My dad— your brother— he’s trapped in unbreakable amber because of ME! Y-You should hate me, not want to protect me!”
Hector took a deep breath. “‘Kay, I think you and I need to have a long sit down and talk about what’s appropriate treatment of a child.”
“I’m fourteen. And have you ever even met a kid?”
“Hush, infant. Look, you said all that stuff with Quirin was an accident. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. But you ain’t any use to anyone, especially him, if you get the dickens beat out of you.”
Varian couldn’t believe his ears. “You’re... not mad I haven’t figured it out?”
“No. And I’m sorry if I made you think I was. I’m sorry for avoiding you.”
Varian hung his head, immediately picking it back up when his gaze fell on Andrew. “Umm, what do we do about him? He’s going to be so mad when he wakes up!”
Hector nudged the man with his foot. “Think he’ll take it out on you?”
“Maybe.”
“Right.” Hector unsheathed his sword.
“Wait, What are you doing?!”
“Getting him out of the way. What’s it look like? Oh, you can close your eyes if you want.”
“We can’t kill him!”
“Ugh, fine. Jail?”
“The Saporians will get him out.”
“We could lock all of them up!”
“We need them still.”
Hector groaned. “‘Kay, fine. You’re the genius. What do you think we should do?”
Varian racked his brain. There had to be something they could do to get Andrew out of the way! Ugh, if only they could make him forget the entire thing... “The wand!” He yelped. At Hector’s confused look, he explained, “The memory wand we used on the king and queen. We can make him forget this happened and tell him he ran into a wall or something. I think it’s in Clementine’s room.”
O‴O‴O‴
They sneaked through the hallways, Andrew slung over Hector’s shoulder. Varian’s heart had crawled into his throat. If anyone saw them, there wasn’t much of a chance they could talk their way out.
“He’s getting blood all over my cloak,” Hector complained.
“Gee, I wonder why?” Varian quipped.
“Watch it, smartbutt. I can put you on the other shoulder.”
Varian stuck his tongue out, happy to have the old Hector back. He’d missed him. “Okay, this is Clementine’s room.” He picked the lock—a skill Andrew had insisted he learn, just in case—and slipped inside. Hector deposited his load on one of the chairs and came to stand beside Varian, who was rooting through the drawers.
“Aha!” Varian pulled out the wand. “Success! Now to deal with—" An explosion cut them off—was that one of the bombs he’d made?—and he lost consciousness.
O‴O‴O‴
He blinked awake to sudden light. A shadow crossed his eyes, but before he could welcome the relief, someone snatched him up by the collar and slammed him against the wall. He yelped in pain, forcing his eyes open to see a familiar face glaring back. “M-Mr. Hector? What—"
He was cut off as the warrior threw him roughly to the ground. Still dazed, Varian couldn’t move to defend himself before the toe of Hector’s boot struck him in the ribs, an audible crack sounding as fiery pain shot through his torso. He gave a strangled cry and tried to scoot backwards, but the foot came down again and pinned him in place.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Andrew watching from an open doorway. The man looked significantly the worse for wear, his nose strangely crooked. He stepped forward, and Hector shifted to give him room. He knelt next to Varian’s head and brushed a tear from his eye with his thumb. “Oh, Varian,” he sighed. “I really did think you were smarter than this. Trying to erase my memory? Shame on you.”
Varian tried to respond, but Hector’s foot on his chest prevented that. Andrew sighed and stroked his hair. “Did you honestly expect someone to care about you? You’re a bad kid, Varian. You killed your own dad. Why would anyone else make the mistake of getting close to you? I mean, I tried, and this is how you thank me. But I’ll tell you what. You take your punishment like a good boy, and I might still have some use for you after this. Deal?”
Varian couldn’t answer. He could only stare up at the maliciously cruel gaze of Andrew or the murderous gaze of Hector.
Andrew stood and put a hand on Hector’s shoulder. “I need him alive.”
“Fine,” Hector spat viciously. “More fun that way.”
Andrew closed the door behind him on the way out, leaving only the flickering torchlight to illuminate what Varian now recognized as a solitary cell. That in itself would be panic-inducing enough without the figure standing over him.
Hector moved his foot, but before Varian could move, the warrior kicked him in the jaw. Varian gave a strangled gasp as blood tricked down his throat. He coughed, letting it spill from his lips to the floor. His ears were ringing, and he almost missed the schink of Hector’s blade sliding out of its glove. Blinking up in horror, he tried to speak, but he choked on the copper taste filling his mouth. All he could do was whimper as Hector lifted his blade to the single torch, letting the metal grow red-hot.
Hector stepped closer again, and Varian dragged himself along the ground away from him, stopping as he hit the wall. “N...”
He grabbed Varian by the hair and threw him to the ground, expression never wavering at the moans and gasps Varian gave. He kicked him over onto his back, placing his foot on his chest again. Then he started lifting the hem of his shirt with the edge of the blade.
“N—no!” Varian managed to gasp past the liquid in his throat. He could feel the heat of the blade already, and it hadn’t even touched him yet. The metal burned the edge of his shirt, lending a smoky smell to the room that made it difficult to breathe.
Talking was difficult, and screaming wasn’t much better as the blade traced a line across Varian’s stomach. Then another. And another. And finally a circle, crossing through all three lines. When he had finished, Hector stepped back and smiled coldly as he surveyed his handiwork and Varian sobbed, choking on his blood and tears.
“Wh—" He couldn’t speak, couldn’t beg, couldn’t do anything but cry as Hector carefully cleaned the edge of his blade. He moved his foot and stepped away from the child. Varian didn’t move. Moving might make him mad. If he did what Andrew said, if he took his punishment like a good boy, would Hector stop? Why was he even doing this? He said he would protect him! He said he didn’t deserve to be hurt! What had changed? Why had he sided with Andrew?
Did he think Varian would hurt him, too? The way he had Quirin?
Was Andrew right?
He couldn’t even curl into a ball as Hector stepped closer again, the wound on his abdomen keeping him still. Maybe if he didn’t make a sound, Hector would decide he’d been punished enough.
“Et ulciscar ultionem tuam, mi frater,” the warrior murmured. He knelt down beside Varian, who tried to keep from flinching. Hector grabbed him by his swelling jaw, turning his face to look at him. He lifted a dagger, letting it rest against Varian’s face, right beside his eye. Varian bit back a cry of fear. He wouldn’t scream. He would take his punishment.
Hector stared at him, unmoving. Then he shifted the blade to Varian’s left hand, pressing his wrist to the ground as he carved a line on his palm. Varian hissed, his hand immediately starting to curl in on itself, but Hector placed his knee on his fingers to keep them still as he continued to work.
O‴O‴O‴
Varian tried not to tremble as the lab door opened. It had been only a few days since his punishment, and he couldn’t look either of them in the eye. Andrew seemed to know this and took pleasure in making Hector check in on him.
The warrior’s expression was one of disgust as he entered, Andrew behind him. Andrew almost never came with Hector, so he was probably getting impatient. Varian clenched his bandaged left hand to his chest, making sure not to slow in his work. It was difficult to do his job with only one hand (and the broken ribs, and the bruises, and the burns) but he managed. He was just grateful that Andrew still allowed him to be useful.
“Anything yet, buddy?” Andrew said, throwing an arm around Varian’s shoulders and leaning on him a bit more heavily than was absolutely necessary. Varian winced in pain.
“I... I’m getting closer. Almost there, sir,” he whispered.
“That’s what I like to hear! Keep up the good work.” He tightened his arm. “Or else.”
Varian nodded. “Yes sir.” Andrew glances over the papers for a second, clearly not understanding them but pretending he did. Then he set them down and walked back over to Hector, who waited by the door. “Gotta admit,” he laughed. “You did more to get him in line in one day than I did in a month. Should’ve let you at him forever ago.”
“Hm?” Hector raised an eyebrow and stared down at the man.
Andrew stepped back wisely. “I just meant he’s not the same brat he used to be. You taught him a good lesson. He won’t hurt anyone ever again.”
“I see.” Hector’s voice was cold, impassive. He turned and walked away.
Andrew turned back to Varian for one more parting shot. “You’re a smart kid, Varian. A little too smart for your own good. Mess with me again, and I’ll find a way to punish you along the same lines.”
“Wh—sir?” Varian fought past his hesitation to ask.
“Ah, y’know, just thought the punishment should fit the crime,” Andrew retorted with a smirk. “Now, back to work. Before I decide you’re not useful.” He left.
Varian stared after him. What had he meant by that? How was everything Hector did to him a fitting punishment for a broken nose? He sighed. His head hurt, and he couldn’t think properly. Turning his attention to the papers before him, he groaned as the equations swam in front of his eyes. Shoving them aside, his gaze landed on one of the amber sketches.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I’m useless. I’ll keep my promise. I’ll get you out. I just need more time.” Realizing that nothing else was getting done tonight, he stumbled over to his cot and lay down. He’d figure it out in the morning.
O‴O‴O‴
He awoke in shock at the sound of papers rustling. A gasp of pain escaped him as he tried to sit up, his broken ribs protesting the movement. Turning his head to see, he bit back a cry of fear at the sight of Hector sitting at his work table, examining papers by lamplight.
He tried to rise, but Hector waved him back down. “Don’t get up.” He stood and stepped closer to Varian, who hissed and fought the urge to scootch away. Waving a paper in front of Varian’s face, the warrior asked, “Care to explain?”
As his eyes adjusted, he gasped. It was the sketch of the amber. “I-I’m sorry! I’ll get back to work—did you want me to work on that or the Quirineon? I mean, you probably want me to work on that, and I can do that— or did Andrew send you?”
Hector stepped back to give him space. “Andrew’s a pigheaded narcissist who can’t see past his own nose.”
Varian’s bruised jaw dropped. Was this a test? Was he supposed to agree with Hector so he didn’t punish him, or had Andrew sent him to see if Varian would defend him? He chose to remain silent.
Hector pulled up a chair and sat next to the cot. “He underestimated me. He forgot I’m not his attack dog. He promised me revenge on my brother’s killer, but he’s overstepping his bounds now.”
Varian didn’t trust himself to speak still. He waited on Hector to continue. The warrior stared off into to distance as he explained, “Andrew promised me revenge against my brother’s killer. He gave me that. But I hear more than he thinks. What did he mean when he said you’d messed with him and he had to punish you accordingly?”
Varian’s breathing quickened. This was definitely a test. Andrew wanted to see if he’d learned. “I—I d... I didn’t work fast enough? A-and you broke his nose? And the memory wand—”
“Memory wand?”
“The Wand of Oblivium. We were going to erase his memory because you broke his nose.”
“Why would I have done that? I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
Varian stared up in shock. “You—you said... you said he didn’t get to hurt me. You hit him because he tried to hit me. I’m—I’m sorry! I won’t be disrespectful. I’ll get it done—" He gritted his teeth and tried to stand again.
Hector put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. Varian grimaced in pain. “Slow down, kid,” The warrior ordered. “You still didn’t answer my question. How is me getting revenge for Quirin appropriate punishment for whatever it is you did to him? And that’s assuming I believe you, which isn’t likely. I think I’d remember protecting you, since I hate you.”
“Y-you did! You don’t remember?”
The pieces started to click into place.
A little too smart for your own good.
I’ll find a way to punish you along the same lines.
The punishment should fit the crime.
“The memory wand,” he gasped in shock. “When he knocked us out! He erased your memory!”
Hector stared at him in disbelief. “Yeah. That’s convenient.”
Varian’s eyes widened. “It’s the only explanation!”
Hector stood, and Varian gasped and pressed his back against the wall. “It doesn’t make sense, because why would I protect you?” The warrior leaned closer and whispered, “You murdered my brother.”
Tears filled Varian’s eyes. He glanced down at his bandaged hand. He didn’t need to see it to know what was there; his father’s name, carved into his palm, was permanently engraved on his mind. An ever-present reminder of his failures and the people he hurt. “I didn’t kill him,” he whispered. “He’s still alive. I can save him.”
Hector scoffed. “How is there any way he’s still alive?”
“I... I have to believe he’s okay... I can fix this.”
“And if you’re wrong? If he’s actually dead?”
“He’s not,” Varian whispered. “Please. You believed that once. You forgave me when I told you it was an accident. That my dad saved me.”
“He saved you?” Varian nodded. Hector sat back down. “Accident, huh?”
“Yes sir.”
The warrior held up the paper again. “And that’s why you’ve got all these sketches of ways to break the amber and free him. Why you said you’d keep your promise. Why you looked shocked when I hurt you.”
Varian’s eyes widened. This was a trap it had to be a trap there was no way Hector was even thinking—
“‘Kay. Assuming I buy this, which I don’t, by the way, let me get this straight. The amber was an accident, Quirin saved you from it and got stuck, you’re busting your butt trying to fix it, and Andrew...”
“Wants me making Quirineon so I can erase the memories of everyone in Corona.”
“And where do I come in? Assuming I forgave you, and then I turned on Andrew because he hurt you, and we were supposed to use some memory thingy, and he used it on me instead. Andrew, what? Erased my memories so I’d hurt you as revenge for us trying to erase his?”
“Yes sir.”
Hector scoffed. “Figures. Like I said, he’s overstepping bounds. I’m not his lackey, and I know he’s intentionally keeping me around you as a threat. That little remark he made earlier, about keeping you in line? I don’t hold with that. I wanted revenge, and I got it. I’m not a whip he can beat you with at will.”
Varian waited as Hector fell silent. He wasn’t sure what to think now. This still might be a trick, but Hector looked pretty angry.
Hector sighed and rubbed his face. “Right. Well, I’m sick of this. Andrew can take a long walk off a short pier for all I care. I’m done.” Varian’s eyes widened. Hector was leaving the rebellion? He gasped and flinched instinctively as Hector turned to look at him again. “As for you...” he grumbled.
“S-sir?”
“Andrew wants you alive. That leaves me with two options, since I can’t exactly leave you here.”
“Why not?” He drew back under Hector’s gaze, his broken ribs pressing painfully against the wall. “I mean, why not, sir?” Did Hector plan to take him with him, to use and abuse at will? Did he think his revenge wasn’t enough yet?
“Call it pettiness. If Andrew wants to use me, I’ll make sure he never uses either of us ever again.” He inspected his glove, from which his blade could extend in less than half a second and impale Varian if he chose to. “Now, my first option is to kill you.”
Varian hissed in shock. He would have backed up, but he had nowhere else to go. He kept his gaze on Hector’s glove, waiting to see what the warrior would do.
“Or,” Hector continued, “I could take you with me.”
Varian’s heart lodged in his throat. So he was right! Hector wanted to hurt him still, to keep him alive so he could continue to make him suffer.
More fun that way.
“I think that’s what I’ll do.” Hector stood. Get anything you need. We’re leaving.”
“Please kill me,” he whispered.
Hector turned back to him. “What?”
“Please kill me! I can’t—" He clamped his mouth shut. No, begging Hector not to hurt him would only get him mad and make him hurt him worse. “I—I’m sorry!”
“I’m not gonna kill you. If I do, you can’t free Quirin. Now get your stuff together.” Hector stood and started picking papers up off the desk. Varian didn’t move, still frozen in fear. Hector whirled on him. “I won’t ask again!”
Varian scrambled to his feet, painfully aware that Hector could and would hurt him if he didn’t do as ordered. He started shoving some of his clothes in a bag. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe, if he worked hard and didn’t sass off, Hector would content himself with just the occasional hitting instead of the torture he’d put him through earlier. He could deal with that. It might not be all that worse than Andrew. He’d be a good boy.
He placed a lot of his alchemy supplies into the bag, grimacing as he tried to lift it to his shoulders. Hector sneered. “Give me that,” he spat.
Varian flinched at the harsh tone. If he disobeyed, Hector might hit him. But if he didn’t pull his own weight, Hector might hit him.
The warrior groaned at his hesitation and snatched the bag, slinging it over his own shoulder. “Let’s go.”
They moved through the hallways, empty of anyone at the late hour. Varian tried to keep pace with the warrior’s long, easy strides. His breathing was too loud, too heavy, and he winced as Hector shot him a glare. “Could you possibly make any more noise?” he hissed.
“Sorry, sir,” Varian whispered.
Hector rolled his eyes and kept moving. They were almost to his room, where the bearcats slept. He’d found them immediately after the rebellion and had brought them here. Varian tried unsuccessfully not to think about Ruddiger. He missed his friend. He hadn’t seen him since shortly after his arrest.
So intent was he on not making noise that the voice behind him caused him to jump. “Where do you boys think you’re going?”
They whirled around to see Andrew watching them smugly. “Oh, come on,” he said. “You’re leaving the party already? We were having so much fun!”
Hector moved, putting Varian behind him and out of Andrew’s line of sight. “Yeah. We’re leaving.”
“Aww, what for? Don’t tell me you want the little brat all to yourself. I thought we had a good thing going. He works for me, and you get to take sweet vengeance on him.”
“He’s not your slave,” Hector spat. “And I’m not your attack dog. So either you let us walk out of here, or I’ll show you just how hard this dog can bite.”
Andrew sighed. “I really didn’t want to do this, but you’re not giving me a choice.” He drew a thin stick out of his vest pocket. Varian gasped as he recognized it.
Hector snarled and leaped forward, sword extended. Andrew lifted the wand. A burst of light sprang from the tip.
And Hector fell to the ground.
O‴O‴O‴
A startled cry stuck in Varian’s throat, unable to escape. He just—Hector—That meant…
The gravity of his situation hit him like Hector’s foot in his ribs. If the warrior didn’t remember they were leaving, then Andrew could make him hurt him again! Going with Hector could be a disaster, but staying here with both of them working together could be deadly.
Andrew sighed and smirked, apparently having the same idea. “Looks like I’ll have to have him teach you another lesson.” He walked over to Hector, who was starting to stir. “Hey, buddy, you okay?” he asked, fake concern lacing his tone.
Hector flipped his legs around, knocking Andrew off his feet. Instantly the warrior rose, grabbing the smaller man and slamming him against the wall. “You got the worst aim of anyone I ever met,” he snapped. “Guess this proves it, though. You did erase my memories. You knew I forgave Varian. You knew I’d never hurt him.” He slammed him into the wall time and again at the words. “You’re weak! You’re pathetic! You target kids because you’re not tough enough to face someone your own size.”
Andrew gasped, clawing futilely at Hector’s hands. The warrior tightened his grip. “Varian,” he growled. “Go back to your lab. Lock yourself in. Don’t come out until I come get you.”
Varian stared, frozen in shock and fear.
“GO!” Hector snarled. Varian gasped and took off, making it back to the lab and slamming the door shut behind him. He locked it and slid to the ground against it.
O‴O‴O‴
It seemed like hours later when a knock came at the door. Varian jumped up, his legs numb from being in one position so long, and stumbled away. “It’s Hector,” a familiar voice called. “Open up.”
Varian unlocked the door to let Hector in. “Let’s go,” the warrior ordered, wasting no time in turning on his heel and walking away.
Varian rushes to follow. “What did you do to Andrew?” He whispered, almost afraid to know.
“Nothing he didn’t deserve.”
They ran back through the hallways, thankfully meeting none of the other Saporians on their way. Hector got the bearcats from his room, and they made it to the front doors and out into the courtyard with no problem.
As they reached the outside, Varian stopped and looked up at the castle. Hector stopped and turned to him. “We gotta go, kid.”
“Yes sir.” Varian started forward, but Hector put a hand up and stopped him.
“Hold up. If there’s something you want to say, say it now.”
“I’m fi-fine, sir,” he whispered.
“Yeah, that’s a lie. What’s wrong?”
Varian took a step back, fully expecting Hector to strike him for his next words. “Why won’t you just kill me? If y-you want reve-revenge. Or why not just work with Andrew? You could have made him stop using you. Why did you hurt him?”
“‘Cause he deserved it. He used us both. He used me to hurt you.”
“But you’re not mad about him using me, are you? I mean, you—you’re using me, too. To free my dad. But you’ll hurt me. So why... why are you—”
Hector stepped forward. Varian stepped back. “You think I’ll hurt you?” Hector asked.
“Why not? You already have,” Varian snapped. Then he gasped and slammed a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m so sorry! I’ll be good, I promise!”
A pained look crossed Hector’s face. “No, no, that’s fair. And I’m sorry.”
Varian blinked. “What? I mean, sir?”
“You’re right. I hurt you. I... I tortured you. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “I’m a knight, and that means I got a code. And part of that code is we don’t hurt kids. I put that aside to get revenge, since the code allowed for avenging one’s fellow warriors, but... I know if the roles were reversed, Quirin never would have stooped to what I did. If he saved you, I don’t have the right to hurt you.” He knelt down on one knee, head bowed. “I can’t ask for your forgiveness, since I don’t deserve it, but if you’ll let me, I want to protect you from now on. At least until we can free Quirin and he can take care of you.”
“You want... you want to protect me?” Varian didn’t understand. Hector hated him! He burned him; he cut him! Why did he suddenly change his mind?
Hector nodded. “If you’ll let me.”
Varian wrapped his arms around himself, his injured hand twinging painfully. “I... I don’t feel safe around you,” he whispered. There was every possibility this was still a trick.
Hector winced. “I deserve that. I’ll keep my distance. But I do need to get you out of Corona before the others find Andrew on the roof.”
“Umm... why is Andrew on the roof?”
Hector grinned ferally. “I hung him off a flagpole by his feet.” At Varian’s shocked expression, he hastened to assure him, “he’ll be fine. I’ve done that before. They almost always survive. Unless he bleeds out... I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
He had what?! To Andrew? Varian bit back a laugh, bringing his hand to his mouth. He winced in pain as he did so, his ribs and hand protesting. Hector grimaced. “Come on. We do need to get out of here.”
He turned to go, but Varian hesitated still, looking back towards the palace again. Hector sighed. “Kid, I’m not a mind reader. Talk to me.”
“We... how can we leave it like this?”
“What?”
He shook his head. “Andrew’s a monster. He’ll burn Corona to the ground. We can’t let him do that.” Still shaking at the thought of standing up to Hector, he clenched his arms painfully.
“And we care because...”
“Because there are innocent people here who don’t deserve to get killed. People who didn’t do anything to us.” He boldly took a step forward, every instinct telling him to stay away from him he’s still dangerous and he’ll probably hurt you for even suggesting this. “Innocent people who don’t deserve to be punished by a madman. Like you didn’t deserve to get thrown in prison.” He took another step forward, stopping as he saw Hector’s raised eyebrow. “Please.”
“Are you serious? You want to go against the rebels you worked with the overthrow their control of the kingdom you helped overthrow?”
“Eh, I’m basically an expert by this point.”
Hector fell silent, staring at the alchemist curiously. Then he shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Ugh, fine. As long as it means I get to fight someone.” Varian gasped and immediately backed up. “Ah, crap, kid, no. I didn’t mean you. Sorry. Just—ugh, come on.” He brushed past him and slammed open the palace doors again.
O‴O‴O‴
“She’s coming.”
Varian shuddered as the words set in. She was here. Months after the second rebellion, and he’d started to give up hope she would ever return.
“Are you ready?” Hector kept his distance behind Varian, looking over his shoulder through the window. “I can talk to her if you want.”
“No, I... I can do this.” He took a deep breath. “She’ll go to the throne room. We’ll meet her there.”
By the time they got there, Rapunzel already held a confused look on her face as she tried to get her parents to remember her. She gasped in horror as Varian stepped through the doorway.
Eugene drew his sword, and Hector unsheathed his and stepped between them. “Back off,” he growled. Varian tried not to flinch at the close proximity to his former-tormenter-turned-bodyguard. Even after all these months, Hector hadn’t regained his memory, and Varian hadn’t regained the trust he once held in the warrior.
“Varian?” Rapunzel demanded. “What’s going on? What did you do to them?”
“I didn’t do this. Andrew the Saporian did this. Well, technically, I think Clementine did it, but Andrew was in charge, so—" He shrugged. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
“Yeah,” Eugene piped in. “Like, for instance, what are you doing out of your cell?”
“Keeping this kingdom from burning to the ground,” Varian snapped back. It’s like a meeting with kingdom nobles, he reminded himself. Don’t show fear. Don’t let them get you into a corner. “And I do mean that quite literally. During the second rebellion, the Saporians tried to use some of my chemicals to blow up Corona.”
“Second rebellion? What?”
“Please, princess, I’ll explain everything.”
“Varian,” the king spoke up. “You know this young lady?”
“Yes, your majesty,” he answered, stepping closer. “She’s the one I told you was coming. Your daughter.”
“Ah, I see.”
Varian motioned for the others to follow him. Hector kept between them, and Varian tried to keep from flinching at the thought of the warrior sticking his sword through his vulnerable back. They entered the library, and Varian chose an armchair at a safe distance from the comfy couch. The princess and her friends sat there, and Hector leaned up against the fireplace, arms crossed.
“You told them I was coming?” Rapunzel asked.
“Of course. It’s not like I wanted to run your kingdom forever. I was just waiting till you got back. And… I know what it’s like to be separated from a parent. I hoped talking about you might help them, and you.”
She stared in open-mouthed surprise. “Thank you,” she finally whispered. “Varian, what… what happened here?”
Varian started to speak, explaining everything from the time of his arrest to the memory wand incident to the rebellion that put the Separatists in prison again while Varian used his position as the royal advisor to keep things running smoothly for the six months it took Rapunzel to return. As the night waned, his eyes started to droop. Hector stepped forward, and Varian jerked up quickly, his breath hitching.
“It’s late,” Hector stared. “You need to get some sleep.”
“I’m fine.” He shook his head. “I still have to do that paperwork for the Neserdnian deal.”
“That can wait until morning. Don’t think I didn’t notice you’ve been staying up late working on the amber problem.”
“Amber problem?” the princess asked. “You mean Quirin?”
Varian nodded. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to figure that out before I go back to prison.”
Rapunzel shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll send you back to prison.”
“What?!”
She smiled. “Varian, you put yourself at risk to save this kingdom, even after everything. And I’m still mad at you, but I think... maybe community service? Considering that’s essentially what you’re already doing.”
“I—I don’t understand! You’re supposed to want me to go back to jail! I hurt you! I hurt your family!”
“And then you saved them. They probably wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for you. You’re not the same as you were. And... I’d like to help save your family, if you’ll let me. I think I found an answer.”
O‴O‴O‴
Tears courses freely down Varian’s face as he sank into the warm embrace of his father. So much time had passed since he had felt this type of safety, this type of love. Maybe just for a moment, he could let his guard down and not worry about the fragile alliances that had carried him this far. Maybe he could learn to stop looking over his shoulder constantly. Or maybe not. Maybe he was doomed to spend the rest of his life, however long that may be, waiting on someone to get fed up with him and teach him another lesson. A bad kid who deserved to be punished...
But his dad’s gruff voice, the vibrations of his chest as he spoke, dispelled those thoughts. Dad was here now. Dad loved him, would protect him, would never strike him for working too slow or speaking out of turn.
Quirin suddenly straightened in surprise. “Hector?”
Varian looked back to the warrior, who rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Hi?”
Quirin shook his head. “I’m not sure I even want to know how you got here.”
“Long story.”
Varian smiled and reluctantly stepped away from the safety of Quirin’s arms so the brothers could embrace. Hector shook slightly as they did so, clearly emotional but trying not to show it.
Hector suddenly tensed, going rigid in Quirin’s arms. He gasped sharply, pulling back. His entire body shook like a leaf, his skin going pale and clammy.
“Mr. Hector?” Varian asked, taking a step forward. He reached out a hand. Hector flinched, jumping away like a scalded cat. Varian backed up. “Are you okay?”
Hector stared at him like he was seeing a ghost. He backed up in fright. “I... I have to get out of here,” he hissed, spinning on his heel and running for the door.
Varian followed him, catching up as Hector reached the bottom of the outside stairs. He grabbed the man’s sleeve. “Wait! What’s wrong?”
Hector pulled away, staring at Varian’s hand. His left hand, now unbandaged, glove missing due to the princess’s incantation, revealing the scars across the palm. Varian drew back and clenched his fist to his chest as Quirin reached them.
“Hector, what’s wrong?” He demanded. “I haven’t seen you this spooked since the Battle of Grim Hill.”
“I—" Tears filled his eyes. He looked to Varian helplessly. “I remember,” he whispered.
Varian’s eyes widened.
“Remember? Remember what?” Quirin demanded.
In answer, Hector grabbed Varian’s wrist, eliciting a startled yelp from the boy. He held out the hand to Quirin, whose expression turned to stone as he stared at his own name scrawled across the palm. “What is this?” He growled quietly.
Varian snatched his wrist away from Hector. “It’s nothing.”
“Hector.”
“It’s what I did when I forgot,” Hector answered softly. “When I let vengeance get ahead of what’s right. That’s not all. I gave him the mark of the Brotherhood, too.”
Quirin took a step forward, a stormcloud brewing behind his dark eyes. Varian stepped into his path. “Dad?”
“You hurt my son,” he growled, gaze locked on his brother.
“Dad, no, it wasn’t his fault!” Varian leaped to Hector’s defense. “Andrew made him forget me.”
“Andrew?”
“My cellmate.”
“Oh—wait, cellmate?”
“Long story. I’ll explain later. But it’s not Mr. Hector’s fault.”
“It is, kid,” Hector spat. “It is, and you can’t say it ain’t. I chose to do what I did. I chose to hurt you. Andrew may have made me forget, but he didn’t make me hurt you. He didn’t make me torture you. That was all me.”
Quirin was silent for a moment, staring Hector down. Then he lashed out with his fist and caught his brother across the nose. The warrior fell to the ground, blood dripping down his face. Quirin stepped forward. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t beat you within an inch of your life!” he snarled.
“Dad!” Varian jumped between them. “What are you doing?!”
“Move, Varian,” Quirin ordered.
“I won’t let you hurt him!” Varian trembled, but the last few months as the royal advisor had given him practice at standing up to people bigger than him.
“Move, Varian,” Hector snapped. Varian turned to look at him. “He has every right to hate me. After what I did, I hate me, too.”
“No! It wasn’t—”
“Don’t you dare say it wasn’t my fault!” Hector yelled. “I did what I did, and that ain’t anyone’s fault but mine.” He sighed. “Look, Quirin, beat the ever-loving daylights out of me, if that’s what you want. Kill me; I don’t care anymore. Just don’t. Let. Varian. Watch.”
Quirin’s breathing grated laboriously. “Varian,” he rasped. “Go inside.”
Varian continued to stand firmly in front of his father. If only the princess had waited five more minutes before leaving! “I can’t do that, Dad. I can’t let you hurt him.”
“Why not?” Hector screamed, getting to his feet. Varian flinched. “See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about! I abused you! You’re scared to death of me, and you’re still gonna stand there and say you won’t let him get back at me?!”
“Yeah—yes sir.” He gritted his teeth at the reflexive word change.
“Why not?” Hector blinked tears out of his eyes. “WHY NOT?!”
“Because I understand why you did it,” he whispered.
Hector shook his head, but Varian continued. “I understand. It’s the same reason I lashed out. I wanted revenge on the princess for not helping me. You wanted revenge on me for Dad. We both did what we did because we thought we lost him.”
“You didn’t torture anyone!”
“I tried to murder people!” He winced at Quirin’s surprised hiss. “At least you kept me alive!”
“Yeah, so I could make you suffer! You begged me to kill you so I wouldn’t hurt you again!”
“But you didn’t!” He poked Hector in the chest boldly. “After that one time, you never hurt me again. You could have. Why didn’t you?” When Hector didn’t answer, he yelled, “WHY DIDN’T YOU?!”
Hector stared at him, finally gasping out, “Because I knew I was wrong! Because I hated myself but couldn’t find it in me to apologize until you asked why I didn’t just kill you and get it over with! Because I looked at you and I wanted to see my brother’s murderer, but all I saw was a kid! A kid Quirin was willing to die for! And if he was willing to do that, then I don’t got the right to touch you!”
Varian nodded. “That’s why I won’t let him hurt you.”
“What?!”
“Andrew manipulated you, just like he did to me. You wouldn’t hurt me before. You’d never hurt me again. Actually, you did the opposite. You saved my life. You saved me from Andrew, and you protected me after the second rebellion while we took care of the kingdom. You’ve saved me at least six times. Why won’t you think about that instead of just everything you did wrong?”
“Can you? When you look at me, do you see the guy who saved your hide or the guy who broke your ribs? Who burned you?”
“I can’t say I’m not scared of you,” Varian admitted. “I think a part of me always will be. I can’t just forget.” He took a deep breath. “But I also can’t forget that you protected me, even when I was scared. You respected my boundaries. You took care of me and helped me protect the kingdom. S-So maybe I can’t forgive you yet, but it’s my turn to protect you.” He turned to Quirin. “Which is why I can’t let you kill him.”
Quirin, meanwhile, had been watching the entire thing in shock and confusion. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think... I think we all need to go inside and talk about this.”
Hector shook his head. “If you ain’t gonna kill me, I’m outta here. The last thing I need is to be here looking at your kid’s blasted puppy-dog eyes.”
“I don’t know if I’ll kill you yet. It’s still an option.”
“He’s not going to kill you,” Varian assured him. “But we do need to talk. And I don’t want you being by yourself right now. It’s not safe.”
“What, you think I’m gonna off myself?”
“I think even you don’t know what you’re gonna do, so I want you to stay here for now. At least till we get this figured out.”
Quirin smiled wistfully at his son. “When did you get so wise?”
Varian shrugged. “I ran a kingdom for six months. I had to learn fast.” He turned to go inside, motioning for Hector to follow him. The warrior hesitated but acquiesced. And Varian found it didn’t scare him nearly as much to turn his back to the man as it once had. He hadn’t forgiven him, but maybe in time, he would.
O‴O‴O‴
Quirin smiled as he watched his son chatting away with the princess. He’d been spending nearly every day at the castle, helping her figure out what was going on. True to his word, he’d kept the place afloat, negotiating deals and handling security like it was the easiest thing in the world; the bags under his eyes told otherwise, though. He was too young to have to deal with things like this. Too young to worry about the safety of a kingdom. It was the adults’ jobs to do that. But Varian had stepped up to do it when no one else could, and he’d done a stellar job of it so far.
“Your highness, I must protest,” a nasally voice interrupted. Quirin sighed and rubbed his forehead. Nigel had been making things difficult for weeks now, rather displeased with Varian having usurped his title. “This boy, this traitor, might I add, has no place handling our financial transactions!”
“Hey, um, Nigel?” Varian snarled. “This boy, this traitor, might I add, ran this kingdom for six months. Like it or not, you need me just a bit longer.”
“Yes, and whose fault is that?”
“Don’t get pious with me! Don’t think I didn’t notice you taking off the minute the Saporians attacked. You didn’t show up until after the princess did. I took over because it was me or them. Be thankful it was me.”
“You impudent twit!” Nigel spat. “I’d watch your tone if I were you. Just because the princess graciously showed you mercy doesn’t mean the king won’t still execute you when he recovers!”
“Nigel!” The princess snapped.
Before she could continue, Hector, who had been standing near Varian, grabbed Nigel and slammed him against the table. “I’d watch your tone,” he growled. “I don’t have a good reason not to execute you right now.”
“Call off your attack dog, boy,” Nigel ordered, shaking slightly and struggling to maintain his composure.
Varian shrugged helplessly. “He’s not my attack dog. I can’t give him orders.”
“Hector, please,” the princess requested calmly. “If you kill Nigel, I’ll have no choice but to make Varian the royal advisor instead, and I don’t think he wants that.”
“I really don’t.”
Hector grumbled and released the man, who quickly stepped away from him and straightened his coat.
“Don’t mess with him,” Hector hissed, sneering down at the man. “If anything happens to him, we’ll be needing a new advisor for sure.” He stepped back to stand next to Varian again.
Quirin sighed. Hector had pleaded to be sent to jail, or executed, or be given some other fitting punishment for his crimes, but the princess agreed with Varian; Hector, while his actions were of his own will, had been manipulated. Their compromise was making his sentence service as Varian’s bodyguard. If he’d hurt him, it was now his responsibility to protect him. Varian had been okay with it, but Hector often went too far, practically smothering him. Quirin couldn’t complain, though; he would do absolutely the same if he were his son’s bodyguard.
The princess finished collecting her papers. “I think that’s everything for now. Meeting adjourned.”
Varian stood and walked over to where Quirin was waiting. The man put an arm around his boy’s shoulders, and they turned to go.
“Hey, Quirin, If you got this for now, I need to go check on my bearcats,” Hector stated. He still couldn’t seem comfortable around Varian, as if afraid he’d accidentally hurt him, and often left him with Quirin. Not bodyguard standard procedure, but they allowed it sometimes. Quirin nodded, and he left.
They stopped at the bay window of Varian’s room, which the princess had insisted he have if he was going to be around all the time. Ruddiger, who had been snoozing next to a pile of apple cores, yawned and stretched as they approached. Varian collapsed on the seat, Quirin sitting next to him and pulling him into his arms. He looked down at his son’s hand, scars concealed by his thick leather glove. He didn’t need to see it, though; that image was seared into his mind and would remain there as permanently as the real thing on Varian’s palm. Varian had refused to show him his other scars, and Quirin respected his decision. He didn’t know if he could keep from killing his brother if he did see them.
“The princess says we’ve almost got everything sorted,” Varian informed him, stifling a yawn. “After that, I’m done. I can... start to put all this behind me. And the Coronans aren’t all that mad at me, considering I helped save their kingdom. Oh, and she wants me to try to figure out how to get her parents’ memories back.”
“Mmh.” Quirin nodded. “You and the princess. How are you doing?”
“It’s... weird, but I think we’re getting there. I apologized, and she apologized, and I think we’re starting to forgive each other.” He turned to look over his shoulder. “What about you and Uncle Hector?”
Quirin tried not to grimace. Varian had started calling him that about a week ago. The first time he’d said it, his brother had looked ready to cry, but he just sniffed and told Varian to go to sleep you little cretin it’s past midnight. “It’s... I don’t know yet. I still can’t forgive him for what he did to you. But he hasn’t done anything since, and he’s protected you, and he apologized about a million times, so I can’t complain.”
Varian smiled. “Okay. And I think... I think I’ll be able to forgive him soon. I don’t know yet. But if you’re not ready, then that’s okay.”
Quirin hugged him tightly. “Son, I can’t make any promises. But I will try. Someday.”
“Okay. Just don’t... don...” Varian fell asleep before he could finish, leaving his words to imagination. Probably “Don’t kill him.” Quirin smiled. He couldn’t forgive his brother yet. But for Varian’s sake, he could try to make peace. And maybe one day, eventually, he would forgive him.