Chapter Text
As predictable as it sounded, Jill was most at home in the winter season. There were small delights she took in seeing the walls of Rosilith covered in fresh snow. She recalled younger days in her father’s court where the castle was filled with snow the size of her. The drifts never reached that kind of height in Rosaria but the feeling still remained.
Of course she had to bury that enjoyment knowing all the headaches it created for the castle’s servants. The shields weren’t fond of training in the snow either, and that went doubly for Clive whose heat-based magic tended to melt it only for ice to form within the hour. He disliked having that edge at early morning training, his magic disrupting the other combatants. Clive was never comfortable with relishing in the blessing of the phoenix, and lacking control in that way was irritating. As much as it hindered Clive, there were positives to it.
When he told Jill in private that the duchess had slipped on his ice there was no quelling her laughter.
They had grown closer in the eight months since their betrothal began. The two were already inseparable, so it simply added courting rituals in the form of social obligations. There was much attention on them as representation of House Rosfield and the Grand Duchy. The couple were pressured into needing to “look the part” as Lord Byron used to say.
Despite being born a prince, Clive never had so many eyes upon him at a banquet until Jill was attached to his arm. There was a general unease they both felt, and as much as they tried to comfort each other, that seemed impossible to dispel.
The new gowns Jill was made to wear for these events better suited her eventual status as Marchioness, though she didn’t enjoy the amount of reds she now wore. Jill had taken to wearing ribbons in her hair again… silently frustrating Clive’s mother when they sat beside her and the Archduke.
“I’m surprised you wouldn’t let Sebastian touch your hair,” The woman snidely spoke into her goblet. “Though the way you northerners like to style. I suppose it’s not unpleasant. Those old ribbons do have a rustic quality to them.” Jill squeezed Clive’s hand so tight she might have unintentionally sprained it. Meanwhile Clive glanced at Jill’s ribbons, seeing an old discoloration nestled into the faded fabric.
There was always a snarky comment about Jill’s peasant adjacent heritage or Clive being ill-suited to these events, but it rarely ventured beyond that. Anabella didn’t see the value of damaging her own social standing just to chip away at her failure firstborn’s fiancée… she knew they could do plenty of that on their own with all these eyes upon them.
In the stories of her childhood and all of Clive’s books, Jill knew it was supposed to be a magical moment when your fiancée offered you their hand for a dance. And as much as she wished to enjoy such a thing with Clive, she also saw that nervous look in his eyes… It wasn’t a dance as much as it was a public performance. Despite how well Clive did with his two left feet, nothing they did could be good enough for the duchess and every lord and lady who cared of such things. Every mistake they made was magnified across any onlookers.
It was that pressure which took away much of the intimacy Jill wished for with Clive. That closeness was impossible to enjoy. Progress on the engagement felt stalled with how drained they were at each night’s end. It became a tired ritual to bid each other farewell and pass out in their bedchambers.
Perhaps they thought it’d eventually be different, but they always reached the same outcome… and Joshua had to suffer their misery in a litany of tired glances and distant yawning.
The prince enjoyed his friends greatly but there was a specific reason he didn’t attend those miserable banquets with his parents. Joshua had a well-documented excuse. Even when the young man wasn’t sick, his parents would easily accept this fabrication. And when he was made to attend, Joshua at least had a different way about him when it came to the public… he was used to being seen, unlike Clive and Jill.
He saw how duty bound Clive was to obey their father’s requests and how Jill refused to let him suffer Anabella alone. They truly were committed to being miserable together. It was worthy of admiration in that founder-prescribed way Joshua read of, but he was not so noble.
“I’m afraid myself, Clive and Lady Jill will not be able to attend tonight’s feast, father.” Elwin sat the throne, looking upon his copper haired heir speaking with a brazen pride.
“Is that so? It’s the feast of the founder, quite a momentous event, Joshua.” The old man suggested. “One that your mother has been planned for a while.”
“As were the others I couldn’t attend, I’m sure.” Joshua committed to his tense posture. “I have plans in Rosilith during the festival, I will need my shield if something were to happen.” Elwin seemed oddly soothed by the idea of Joshua’s lie.
“And as for Lady Warrick?”
“I need the presence of a lady for my task, and as her betrothed will be in attendance, I’m certain it will arise no untoward suspicion.” The older man stroked his bearded face, blue eyes staring into Joshua with acceptance."
“I see… this is rather disappointing news, I’m sure your mother will be very unhappy.” Perhaps in his own way Elwin knew of the misery his son and ward felt at their events, and decided to trust Joshua. “But you are the heir, and your protection is paramount.” Joshua turned away when Elwin stood up. “Make sure the Marquess and Lady Warrick return at a reasonable hour, unsullied.” Joshua maintained a face as unmoving as stone.
“They’ll be pure as snow.” Elwin smirked as he sat back, watching the boy stride out of the throne room.
Joshua spoke to his dearest confidants promptly, passing off his agreement with Elwin as an order of great importance from the Archduke. Hours later when night approached they remained none the wiser. In fact they seemed utterly relieved at the break in formality (while refusing to admit it).
Thankfully the duchess was too held up by her duties as a hostess. She couldn’t afford any of her network to watch Joshua, (as usual).
Joshua stepped out the gates with his colleagues, waving to the shield on watch duty. Torgal stuck rather close to Joshua as he ventured onwards. Regardless of the dark winter clouds that covered Rosaria, snowfall had lessened and the slushed road to the city was very walkable.
The bipedal trio were garbed in hooded winter cloaks and Clive remained very armed. He eyed many of the nobles walking past their quartet into the castle (obviously for the duchess’s event). Many ignored the guised nobles as it were their station. Clive looked upon them all suspiciously while Jill seemed suspicious for another reason.
“You said this was a task his grace had entrusted you?” Joshua didn’t turn at his sister’s question. “On the same day he would have expected us at the banquet?”
“It is rather peculiar, I admit.” Joshua lied. “But the role he has granted me with is very important.” Jill seemed unconvinced, but wanted to trust him.
“And what is this role, Joshua?” Clive asked, towering over his brother. While he didn’t intend to intimidate, Jill witnessed hints of that in her beloved companion.
“Best we not speak of it among this company,” Joshua cowered to the lords and ladies passing them by, “Do not worry, brother. All will be revealed soon… right Torgal?” As he said such a thing, Torgal barked in agreement, rattling a few of the onlookers.
Clive immediately clocked that something was off about his brother, but tentatively followed with Jill. As Joshua proudly walked on without a care in the world, his brother’s attention was spread out along the long road that divided their castle from Rosilith proper.
The first shield couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being followed in the dwindling twilight. As he looked behind, his sword arm reflexively felt for the blade hanging from his back. Jill gently took his free hand, her silver eyes met Clive’s, he softened.
The road gradually gave way to buildings. Rosilith’s actual city opened up around them, modest structures towered over the quartet. It existed over a wide area, housing a great deal of exquisite stonework that made up Rosaria’s crown jewel. Nothing could challenge the height of the castle’s towers, but it was far more crowded. People moved about and around the four with a casual indifference.
They might as well be commoners like everyone that surrounded them.
As evening had settled in, torches and braziers lit up the snow filled landscape with swaths of gleaming orange light. There was even the occasional crystal that projected a contrasting cyan glow. The lighting did well to emphasize the various persons from all walks of life enjoying the festivities.
Joshua’s excitement increased at the sight of it all. Seeing Market Street lit up like this.
The Festival of the Founder was a week-long celebration of Rosaria’s founding after the Fallen’s demise. Much like Rosilith itself was at first a shack, turned into a home, a town and then a city, so too was the piecemeal nature of the festival celebrating Rosarian ingenuity and independence.
“When was the last time we did this?” Joshua asked, nostalgically. “I think Uncle Byron took us out to this festival?” Clive nodded.
“Right after we saw that performance of Saint and Sectary at the Firebird… we three were pretty small.”
“Torgal wasn’t even around yet,” The dog looked up at his name’s mention. “It was a nice show… though I could do without all the repeat quotations that came afterwards.” Jill ribbed Clive with that remark. “I could only stand your Sir Crandall for so long.”
Clive felt challenged.
“You say that, but you yourself made a fine Saint Sybil.” Jill smirked.
“I made an awful one.” She chuckled. “Truly horrendous.”
It didn’t help that for a show called Saint and Sectary, Saint Sybil was barely present. She had one tearful monologue halfway through and then Crandall ran off to pursue her killer... who was coincidentally his secret father.
“You were eight,” Clive responded, “I’m sure you could do even better now.” Jill rolled her eyes.
“You just didn’t notice because you were having so much fun with your beloved uncle.” Joshua blinked, as if he was missing some details… many details.
“I know I went to that show, but I hardly remember a thing. Was I that young?” As Joshua queried, he couldn’t help but project onto Torgal who seemed utterly lost in the conversation… because he was a dog.
Joshua didn’t remember much of Uncle Byron, the man seemed more dedicated to Clive than him. The last time he saw him was four years ago, the man simply ruffled the boy’s hair and went off to his death... his wake afterwards had none of his usual color.
Joshua failed to suck in that sadness, stepping away from the wall the group hugged. Despite the lively atmosphere, there was a desolation the boy felt. It made the colors of the crowd and their joy not as vibrant as they should have been. He was expecting to find something resembling nostalgia here, but instead he discovered only melancholy.
“So where do we go?” Clive asked, pulling his brother away from his holiday cheer. “We shouldn’t spend so long out in the open, it’s not safe.” Jill swiftly agreed.
As Clive expressed his worry, a frustrating stone sunk to down into Joshua, he could feel the lie unravel… and yet he continued the charade.
So he spun a yarn that he needed to visit with some vendors (which was true) but convinced Clive that due to his intimidating presence, he and Jill needed to simply watch him from a safe distance, posing as the couple they actually were.
It took time for Clive to get into the swing of things, getting used to Jill holding his arm as closely as she did (like she did at the feasts). Nobody made no more than a passing glance at the two. As he noticed that, it occurred to Clive that they weren’t sticking out.
He briefly felt guilty for enjoying that anonymity.
Everyone was enveloped in their activities, whether it was the purchasing of food, jewelry or chatter with bards performing for small groups with occasional dancing. There were even venues that hosted puppets. There was no centralization in activity, and so it became organized chaos.
As he dwelled on that, a group of children threw tiny rocks at the ground. Sparks shot forth from the stones, impacting the snow with small darkened voids. Torgal barked loudly at the display, followed by a couple of children bravely leaping onto the dog. They somehow managed to ride the beast as if he were a small horse galloping away.
Moments later the dog returned, unmolested. Further back the couple saw those children happily dunked into a sequestered pile of snow.
“He certainly has a way with children,” Jill murmured.
“He has to, he survived us after all.” As Jill smiled his heart fluttered again. She grasped his arm a little more tenderly.
As the heir found a vendor to speak with, Clive and Jill settled beside another some distance away (with a perfect vantage point).
With Joshua’s coin they purchased some crystal fried ham on a festive stick.
“I’m surprised Joshua needed me to come along,” Jill remarked, watching with Clive as the copper haired boy spoke in hushed tones to a vendor. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“This is odd of him,” Clive agreed. “But if his grace entrusted my brother with this mission, it must be important.”
“You came here during the festivities to inquire about my apples?” The vendor was in the middle of caramelizing a tray of apples, rosarian children waited expectantly. She eyed Joshua with disgust, as if this conversation somehow slowed the caramelization process.
Joshua shook his head at the vendor’s confusion.
“Yes, no… well it’s complicated. I came to inquire with you about an apple.” He pensively eyed his family in the crowd, feeling odd about something. On the stand he deposited an apple.
The vendor became quite curious at the sight of it, she drew closer.
“Well what do we have here?”
Clive couldn’t help but study the people walking past them. Of course his mind dwelled on whether they carried weapons reflecting their walking patterns. Jill had returned with their food (on three sticks) when Clive spoke about his suspicions. While she wasn’t as immersed in that way of thinking, she gladly contributed.
Right now they were discussing an old man who walked with a very low center of gravity with a cane in spitting distance from Joshua. But Clive had missed something obvious.
“He’s walking like that because he doesn’t want to trip on the snow.” She said simply, Clive noticed the thin layer of snow that caked the floor of the festival. It reflexively melted around where his brother stood… but strangely not where Clive and Jill sat.
“But you never walk like that, are you northerners just that good in your element?”
“This one is.” Jill said, she effortlessly slid away from Clive like in her fencing trials. “You just don’t take ice seriously because you’re usually so mad you can’t help but melt it.” Jill poked him like a bear, Clive scoffed, standing at such a thing.
“I’ll have you know that such movement is easy with Lord Murdoch’s-“ as the shield entertained his ego, he tripped and nearly fell when Jill reflexively caught him. “Training… this doesn’t count.” He grew confused on why the ice remained but Jill couldn’t hide her laughter. It seemed unreal how easily she could support him upon that very same ice.
During their distraction, Torgal casually grabbed the third stick of ham that Jill had set down for Joshua and scampered away from his masters.
“If you could… don’t tell Joshua about that.” Clive said moments later. “He’d never let me live it down.” Jill simply smiled.
“As you wish, love.” Clive blushed at the nickname, though Jill swiftly became puzzled. “Wait… where is Joshua?”
Clive saw his brother no longer standing beside the vendor (who handed out caramel apples to children). He scanned the group and saw no sign of Joshua, though with Jill’s earlier mention, he did see a line of melted footsteps in the snow.
Jill realized someone else was missing… as was Joshua’s food.
“Torgal’s gone too?”
So they took to following the Prince’s steps. In the crowd they sought out any sign of Joshua’s light hair, finding naught. Instead they reached a point where the footprints stopped entirely.
“What happened?” Jill asked, growing worried. Clive realized Joshua’s last steps had more snow burned away.
“He made a jump,” Clive looked out, scanning for a place with melted snow that Joshua could have teleported to.
“But he hates using his powers,” Jill reasoned. Clive couldn’t argue with that, he also couldn’t figure out where the boy had wandered off to. He decided to make jumps with the Phoenix’s blessing, vanishing in embers to quickly scale the area. Jill huffed, watching her partner unintentionally showing off.
He reached a vantage point up on a roof, finding no sign of his brother or Torgal.
As Clive returned to Jill, she made a suggestion.
“Perhaps we figure out what Joshua’s task was?”
The woman Joshua spoke to seemed exasperated with all the children running about, she turned to the couple.
“I have a few apples still ready if you’ve got coin,” she mumbled.
“We’re not hungry,” Jill replied.
“Great, piss off then.” The woman realized Clive wasn’t moving, and Jill being shorter than him made Clive appear more intimidating. “Or not…”
“We’re looking for a boy, taller than her, shorter than me, hair colored like torchlight.” Clive leaned in. “I’d rather we make this exchange as painless as possible.” Jill didn’t immediately know how to help, so she just leaned into the stand.
“And we’ll know if you’re lying, my good lady… mam…” she fumbled but Clive kept up the pressure.
The woman told them Joshua had inquired about an apple, which he said came from Lostwing in Sanbreque. That seemed to not be the case, as the vendor recognized the rare strain coming from a more southern area, Dahlmekia. Her first inkling was that the apple came from an orchard near Tabor, where the desert required constant watering. Despite that, they kept well in the cold.
When she surrendered this information, Clive was instantly frustrated. He wanted to wring the actual truth from this stranger (despite that being un-chivalrous), but then she produced an apple that looked just like the kind Joanna baked into her pies. It was rare so Joshua accepted it as his price for information from the vendor.
Clive and Jill were left irritated, sitting together at a bench surrounded by far more happy oblivious people around them.
“The archduke sent us with Joshua… so he could inquire about apples?” Clive inquired, Jill tentatively held a caramel apple on a stick as a consolation prize.
“Maybe… maybe they’re poison apples?” She wondered, hoping for some sort of reasonable answer. “Maybe they’re the reason Joshua’s ill?”
“Doubtful… I’ve always known the reason for Joshua’s health is because he refuses to eat his carrots.” Clive quipped, stewing in this confusion. There was a betrayal in acknowledging this, and it became blatantly obvious. “That cheeky little brat…”
Joshua had invented a situation so they could have a romantic night out, away from the duchess and the trappings of their station.
And Clive was furious.
As he spoke ill of his brother so did he finally appear. Joshua looked so casual, scratching his neck with Torgal at his side (carrying a torn up stick). He had spent perhaps fifteen minutes away from his friends and looked a little haphazard, patches of sweat gleamed in the torchlight.
“Apologies, I might have let my curiosity take me on a journey, are you two at least enjoying yourselves in my stead?” Clive was so frustrated at the sight of his brother, he didn’t know what to say… so Jill took over, handing her festive food to Clive for safekeeping.
“Apples… you needed us for apples?” There was a look to Joshua, as if he had completely forgotten about the apples, but he rolled with the topic.
“They are quite good, wouldn’t you agree?” Jill steadied her gaze while Clive spoke.
“Did father know about this? Or was that a feint too?” Joshua sighed.
“Oh he knew… he approved.” The boy stepped closer. “He didn’t want you two suffering under mother’s boots unnecessarily.” Jill refused that.
“Then his grace could have told us.” Clive nodded.
“No he couldn’t have… you both have a way about being offered alternatives and choosing the hardest one, like a couple of duty-bound sadists.” The couple eyed each other. “You have a nobility that I can never hope to achieve in that regard.”
“Clearly, as you lied to us,” Jill said. “Deceit doesn’t color you well, little brother.”
As she called him brother, Joshua felt that (somehow) motherly sting Jill expertly used.
He’d hate to be her child, she was far more effective than his mother ever was.
“I refuse to resign myself to standing nobly by as you both resign yourselves to be nobly miserable. If that makes me a wretcheder villain for serving your interests better than you shall, then so be it… I’ll play your villain.” Joshua said dramatically.
“Serving our interests?” Jill asked, “You brought us here on a lie, as if we were hostages.” Joshua recognized the irony of what she spoke of. “You speak of wanting us free of the duchess but through deceit you’ve become our warden instead.” Joshua felt a coldness radiating from her gaze.
“Aye, What a vile hypocrite I must be, asking my two closest companions to enjoy their night.” Torgal glanced up. “Three, apologies.” The dog was satisfied while Clive finally stood. “Would you rather we wait ‘till I’m Archduke and command you both to cut loose? Would that be more appealing?” Clive grabbed Joshua’s side hoping he’d finally listen.
“Enough of this, Joshua. We were worried when you disappeared. I’m your shield, it’s my duty to keep you safe”-
“And I never asked you to be my shield, all I ever wanted was for you to be my brother.” Joshua took a step back from Clive, radiating heat and anger.
Jill watched that point of contention between the brothers.
What Joshua spoke of had been brimming under the surface for years. Clive had an initial gut-punch reaction to be angry with his obstinate brother, his disrespectful charge who would rather spit on his oath then admit fault. But he felt Jill grasping his forearm gently. The anger dissipated just a bit. It also gave Joshua time to recompose himself.
“I didn’t mean that, Clive.” He looked away. “But… this arrangement, it’s unsustainable. We all know it.”
“We do.” Jill agreed. Clive was surprised by Jill’s admission. Joshua continued.
“There will come a time we’ll need to find something better than this. Because you’re both very dear to me… but I don’t wish to live my life as your warden, that’s not what family is supposed to be.”
Clive breathed that in softly, taking in what Joshua said. For the first time Clive felt he understood Joshua just a little better.
“I don’t wish that either, Joshua.” Clive finally admitted, his brother was grateful for that acknowledgement. Jill seemed more reserved, not wishing to impact the brother’s understanding.
“I’m sorry you were worried, I’m sorry for all of this.” Joshua sighed, “I just don’t understand why you both can’t allow yourselves to be happy just once, without it being anyone’s plan.” As he asked that, his friends looked at each other quietly.
As the group settled down, they decided that Joshua needed to return to the castle. But in a break with tradition, Clive allowed Joshua to go on ahead with Torgal while he and Jill stayed at the festival just a little longer. The prince was surprised but seemed glad to have had some effect. He also received Jill’s caramel apple.
They never thought to ask why Joshua disappeared, but the prince didn’t seem worried, so neither were they… well any more worried than Clive tended to be.
“What if something happens to him?” He asked reflexively, Jill was prepared for that.
“Then that was his choice." She squeezed his hand. “If he needs you, he’ll find you. But you need to put more faith in him.”
“And Torgal.” The fire within Clive finally quelled itself, so Jill gently led him away into the crowd.