Chapter Text
“This is why I’m a pacifist.”
Edgar held the poultice against his wounded cheek, the bleeding having finally stopped but the swelling remained. He turned to face his young brother, William. His younger brother stood midway up the stairs, his hands on his hips and his apron stained and streaked with flour and grease.
“Did you seriously leave the kitchen to come berate me?” Edgar asked dryly. He and his younger brother rarely saw eye to eye. His brother had opted to become a cook for the king while he joined the knighthood. As such, they often bickered about who was really pulling their weight for the kingdom.
“No, I came to hear your side of the story,” William replied. “Half the staff is abuzz with the news that the Knight Captain went mad and punched my brother…”
Walking up to Edgar, he continued, “And half of those gossipers are saying you started it, so what in the world happened?”
“Well, they’re right in saying Cyrus went mad,” Edgar sighed. He found himself thinking about the events leading up to Cyrus assaulting him. There were countless rumors buzzing around the knights about how Glenn could have shown up out of nowhere and how exactly did he save the king and defeat General Slash. He had definitely witnessed the strange and timid boy that followed Glenn conjure a bolt of lightning at Cyrus. And he had definitely witnessed a miracle as Glenn’s hands glowed and he healed Cyrus’s wound. Now those rumors from the battlefield were sounding more true by the moment…
“Does this have anything to do with Stormward saving the king?” William asked as if reading his brother’s mind.
Edgar nodded. “Don’t suppose the kitchen staff heard that Glenn returned with that boy who saved the queen and the girl who looks like her?”
William admit that he hadn’t heard that much. The two brothers discussed what transpired, although Edgar omitted witnessing the magical occurrences that went down outside the castle but noted that Cyrus made the wild claim that Glenn and the boy had used magic against him. William shook his head in disgust when Edgar reached the part of the tale of Cyrus punching him over the suggestion that the court await Glenn’s return to hear his side of the events.
“The stress of the war finally got to him, eh? Seeing things and still hellbent on long-over grievances?” he remarked. “A damn shame… He was a bit gruff around the edges but always polite to the kitchen staff.”
Edgar nodded solemnly. He smirked and bid his brother a nod and farewell as the latter declared they were going to return to the ‘frontlines’ of the kitchen and requested he stop by to eat dinner soon.
Catching his reflection in his helmet that sat upon the table, Edgar sighed at the sight of the cut on his cheek. He silently wondered if Cyrus would see reason and return to the castle on his own or if his madness would push him further from the light.