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The story of how the fox stole the rook

Summary:

The kingdom of the Czernins appeared like pesky weed after a long series of rains, spreading its unrightful rule across the neighbouring territories and gaining more influence with no army to their name.

Little did they know that on the grand celebration of the Prince's birthday they were about to lose everything.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: The Plan

Chapter Text

The key to a successful robbery always lies in a perfect, fool-proof plan and mindful preparations that eliminate even the idea of a mistake.

One needs to consider every possible route their mission could lead them to and for every variation they need to be ready with a counter action to keep things going. One small mistake, one missing tool and several weeks of planning and talking goes up in flames just within seconds. And when everything around him burns only god knows how far those flames will reach and how dire the damage caused by them will be.

Although unlike his life, his plans were never charred by flames, Phantom Fox preferred to keep himself to these simple principles. After all, even if he was bestowed with luck known to no mortals the same couldn’t be said about his partners. 

And that was the same idea he always kept in mind ever since he decided that some of the nobles around him have more than enough to spare for their subjects. Then suddenly one heist grew into many, putting a weight on his shoulder he couldn’t bear anymore, but couldn’t exactly escape either. There was a strange sort of feeling akin to a mix of duty, revenge and justice that kept eroding his heart unless he jumped into action.

He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, so he kept going forward with a false smile that would put foxes in storybooks to shame. The group wanted to keep going, and he used their determination to create some chaos while doing something good, to numb his heart and silence the thoughts that would pull on his body until he could no longer stand anymore. Having something to do was always better than getting lost in the forest of his own thoughts.

So while planning around their group and thinking about their wellbeing, the fox’s plans were always perfect. Not a single speck of dust could ruin the way the cogs turned, their sides sliding against each other. 

Or so he believed.

* * *

Despite not really wanting to keep going with his role as a leader, when the possibility arise to travel to the middle of the continent, he simply couldn’t say no. The small sovereign kingdom led by the first generation of the Czernin family always had a special spot in the depths of his thoughts. Like a pesky bug, it returned from time to time to remind him of their existence and how unrightfully they came to be. Eventually, the bug bit and crawled over his skin, until he felt genuine disgust just at the mention of the family’s name. 

Despicable creatures. Truly despicable creatures who dragged themselves out from the mud believing to be legitimate rulers just because they happened to have a crown and a dusty old gold-laden cape in their possession.

Kingdoms were usually gained through bloody wars, senseless marriages and birthright. The case of the Czernin family’s reign was unheard of, almost out of a messed up fairy tale where an unknown party suddenly wins half of the kingdom of a lonely king. 

Their appearance in the region was so sudden, nobody really had a chance to react to them accordingly and by the time they were about to kick the family out of the territory, they took roots deeper than any weed hidden within a field of wheat, gathering military power nobody like them would have been able to without the aim of someone else.

Not only despicable, but disingenuous too.

They were haughty and allowed power go to their head to the point the villages around them started to wither in poverty while their pockets were filled with coins. 

It was due time for someone to give them a lesson.

* * *

That night, light surrounded the castle as the servants were ordered to light every lantern in every room they could access. From below, it looked almost as if the walls were containing the breaths of a raging dragon, threatening to rain its fiery hell on the village below the castle in its maddening dance. The further one walked from the gates, the darker the world had gotten, almost as if its existence was drowned out by the loud and obnoxious celebration that stole away every ounce of light in the night. 

However, away from the music, three people gathered at an abandoned mineshaft not too far away from the feet of the castle. Hidden by the darkness provided by the trees, their black and white checkered attire was left unnoticed. The only one who couldn't quite fit into their monochrome group was the leader himself. The lone outline of a translucent ear on his right side kept moving to the smallest of noises as if it belonged to him and five slim fox tails reaching just above his knees, swayed excitedly.

They said these were the signs that the god of the forest blessed him with senses above regular humans, but he paid for it dearly. Not like he seemed to care and the way he avoided the topic prevented others from prying into his matters further as long as they could fill their pockets through their heists. Phantom Fox could have been an otherworldly monster as long as he provided them with entertainment.

“It seems even the moon couldn’t stand their corny celebration,” Fox suddenly noted as he looked up at the sky, his gaze setting on the myriad of stars that shone like small specks of dust in the dark skies. It would’ve been a beautiful view if it wasn’t for the beacon of light on the horizon that desperately tried to outshine the missing moon.

At his words, a man with a beard looked up at him, his frown visible even in the darkness.

“I am pretty sure it’s because–” he was about to start, but eventually just shook his head. “Never mind. Your version sounds better.”

“Of course it does! After all, this world needs a bit of poetic touch so it stops being so dull. A bit of legend building for an evening like that.”

The man just shook his head as he listened to the nonsense that left the mouth of their leader. Sometimes he wondered how he was even chosen to represent their group, but then again for the stunts they pulled one needed to be a little bit mad at least.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway… What I gathered is that there is definitely something shady around the family members, but nobody could really tell what and the stories seemed to contradict each other with the name of the prince repeatedly changing with each retelling. One thing is sure, either hexes or magic is involved. We should be careful.”

“Thought so. The family’s history, or at least the career’s worth mentioning go back to two generations but it’s more about craftsmanship than nobility. Puppeteering is not something one would think when they talk about kings. Which of course makes it all the more strange that someone like them could take a castle with no army. Interesting. Interesting indeed! So, dearest Terminus,” he turned to the man, his eyes glimmering with an orange light. He already had a plan in mind, but he always made sure to listen to everyone around him, “do tell me, what you found out about the castle itself?”

“It’s old,” the man stated matter of factly, before his lips were pulled into a wide smile. “And just like any old castle it’s filled with passageways that were built by their previous owners when they started fearing their hide.”

“And where the royal family can get out, we can get in,” the blonde woman standing next to them added, nodding to herself. She was seemingly concerned with the plan and couldn’t really smile about the findings as her partners. “Wouldn’t that mean that these entrances will be more heavily guarded, though? Or straight up impassable. It would be a heavy oversight on their side…”

“That’s the beauty of it, darling,” Kevin clapped his glowed hands. “Because the Czernin family took over the castle as its unrightful owner they are not aware of the workings of a court and its secrets. If they were, we weren’t be standing so calmly in front of this abandoned mine shaft.”

“Maybe they did not want to push attention to it for a reason. A secret entrance is supposed to be secret, after all” she argued. “If this was meant for the royal family, then supposedly they should be the only ones knowing about it in the case of a coup or else they could be caught while they are trying to escape.” 

Hearing her logic Terminus furrowed his brows, “Well, I cannot argue with this reasoning and this is something we should be mindful. In any case, this route is currently the best shot we have. They are protecting all the main entrances and you cannot just waltz in without any means of identification.”

“Oho? So this is not a simple birthday celebration?” the outline of the translucent fox ear that protruded from under Fox’s hat suddenly perked up as his eyes narrowed. 

“The streets whisper that their son avoids people and limits his interactions to a few retainers so the parents finally lost their patience with the lad.” Terminus explained, twirling his beard between his fingers as he thought back on his scouting work. “Feeling bad for ‘im. There is no greater tragedy than being forced to marry off to someone you’ve just met at a party. Where is the romance in that?”

“Well, he is a prince so he would have thought about this before and elope with someone if he was truly disturbed by his parents,” Skeleton Key shrugged with feigned indifference. “It’s not our business if the family wants to play matchmaker neither should we step in it prevent it.”

“Exactly, although–” Fox was about to continue, when Skeleton Key threw him a piercing glare.

“Don’t even think about it. And hide that tail of yours.”

“...Fine, fine...” he sighed, and the light that kept his rights eyes glow with a peculiar flame returned to normal, revealing a clear shade of orange. He still stuck out like a sore thumb, but with the light, the ear and tails were at let gone as per Skeleton Key’s wishes. “So Terminus what is the schedule for tonight’s ball?”

“Nothing is simpler. As I’ve said, everyone ought to be busy trying to woo the princeling, our star of this evening. Logically speaking, most of the guards will protect the ballroom and the courtyard, so the road to the treasury should be easy. The mineshaft from here leads to the shack next to the inner chapel, just a few turns away from the throne room—” he stopped, looking at the leader of their group who looked at him with a sour expression that broke through the mask of eternal smile. “What’s wrong, Fox?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing. Nothing. I just got interested in a prince who is more important than a notice for robbery. If someone announced to me that I’ll become poor the following evening, I wouldn’t be focusing too much of merriment and debauchery. Too bad we won’t be meeting the royal family tonight, I’d like to know what’s all the fuss is about.”

Skeleton Key was about to say something, however, she decided against it, swallowing back her thoughts. She was pretty sure that no matter what the cost is, the fox will lurk far too close to the fire.

But it was not her business if their leader wanted to burn himself that badly.

 

Chapter 2: The Pawn

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Instead of sneaking around like a shadow in the night, Phantom Fox proudly walked through the corridors as if he had always stood in the service of the royal family. He halfheartedly expected someone to stop him, maybe question his identity and force him to come up with a believable lie and a name that would make their brows hop in surprise. He would say it with such confidence, even the most doubtful person would grudgingly believe its existence.

He would’ve done anything just to bring some sort of excitement into his usual routine, but alas, nobody paid him any mind as he walked past several guards, taking mental notes in his mind about their position and the weapons they have wielded.

 

What he had deduced after minutes of wandering around seemingly aimlessly was something that left him with a frown. The courtyard connected to the giant boardroom where the ballroom was set up was more heavily guarded than any other corner of the palace. If his gang put their mind to it, they could have relocated the throne room into their headquarters and even taken the embroidered blue curtains, nobody would’ve noticed it. Safe for a few busy servants, the castle was completely empty.

Which was the opposite of what Phantom Fox wanted.

After all, he had sent a carefully worded letter to the king with the goal of making a show! Setting himself and his group against the royal guards in a game of chase only to outwit them in a fair game. The tale would have travelled from witnesses to common people adding another notch to his name.

As he walked around he felt like a petty criminal doing a job anyone could have succeeded with and lacking the fanfare he required. There was no honour in it and no thrill to seek.

And all because of the man sitting next to the false rulers! The audacity! The audacity to ruin a perfect tale in the making!

Was the prince really that important? More important than the heirloom of the country? He wondered to himself as he walked, his steps quiet like a fox’s who was on his nightly hunt in the human village. However, no matter how hard he tried to bury the thought, curiosity kept pecking at his side like a tiny bird that demanded to be fed immediately.

The further he walked from the courtyard and the murmurs of the guests, the more his thoughts wandered back to the princeling of the Czernins. His feet urged him to turn around and seek out at least one of the members of the family, but his promise to Skeleton Key and Terminus about keeping himself to their mission rang clearly whenever the thought occurred.

If he wanted to get to know more about the person who stole back the limelight he demanded for himself, he had to find another approach. That way he could satiate his curiosity without breaking the promise.

Eventually, his steps led him deeper into the western wing of the building and the noise coming from the people celebrating the prince slowly melted into the stonewalls of the castle. It seemed that this part of the building was kept for the servants, and unlike the surroundings of the chapel the mark of the castle’s original owners could be found wherever he looked.

His gaze eventually settled on the portrait of a red haired queen, her eyes warm, yet her posture and expression reflecting rigor. Next to her, there was a painting of a young dark haired boy, standing with a pout. Possibly her son, although none of the images contained a king or anyone who would resemble one.

The tapestries hung on the wall still contained scenes with the queen, her visits to the small town below the castle and a heroic war fought against a dragon. Its features were flattened almost as if the person weaving the image wanted to include every angle of the majestic beast at the same time so that one might have been a tale told to elevate her greatness.

In the abandoned inner court the trees and weeds were allowed to grow as they pleased and ivies crawled up the legs of a revered statue of a saint, covering her grey mantle with a green dress. Her importance was gone with her old owners, replaced by bric-a-brac people have carried to her feet from broken furniture, to logs of cut branches and incomplete armour. 

He was about to consider turning back, when he noticed a flash of white in the far corner of the courtyard. He should have let it be, focus on securing a route and scouting the area as they have discussed with Skeleton Key, however important information often arrived in the form of secret conversations. Even this castle wouldn’t be an exception to this rule. 

His eyes flashed with curiosity as he allowed himself to sneak closer and use the saint as his temporary hiding spot, listening with his whole body as the whispers were carried his way by the tall walls. 

“This won’t do… This absolutely won’t do…”

“You cannot be serious… I can’t just leave the court whenever I please! Nonsense. I have duties here!” 

“For how long, Joker? Once Hollow gets here the only place you will serve is the heavens above us! You’ve already said yes once to my proposal, so why are you hesitating? Why now?”

Peeking out from behind the base of the statue he finally noticed a servant, dressed in the same chequered pattern as him, his white hair looking almost as if he had put a mop on his head. He was cornered against a tree by a shorter man clad in black. He did not seem like a servant, and his attire was not ornate enough to be considered a guest.

“It’s easy for you, but what is out there for me? What would I do once I am out of the castle?”

“We will figure something out,” the reply was quick and Fox could feel it in the voice of the person that if the place allowed him, he would’ve been screaming. “I tried to stall them as much as I could, but Hollow is impatient, haughty and doesn’t take advice from a hired mercenary. I absolutely refuse to leave you here.”

“We could still warn them…” the man named Joker tried to suggest, but Fox could hear that even he didn’t believe his own words.

“No, no, listen. Even if you go now the cogs are already turning and there is no way to stop them. Someone sold out the family–”

“All the more reason to tell them!” the servant repeated more firmly. 

“Why do you want to lose your head so much?!”

Fox loved a good argument, especially if he could be a viewer while people went against each other, clashing reasoning against their own feelings to create a gorgeous cacophony of emotions. It brought out some of the most honest expressions, burning up bridges but also providing the possibility to mend them after their destruction. 

He would’ve probably stayed behind to listen more and watch as the assassin’s frustration unfolds, however his attention halted on the words uttered by the man clad in black. A name he did not expect to hear so far away from the frozen kingdom in the north, but it somehow managed to force its cold into every corner of the continent, spreading his malice like ice flowers on the surface of a poor man’s window.

An unexpected turn of events and it seemed even the man in white couldn’t really comprehend the weight of this statement as he kept trying to come up with hastily made solutions.

Shaking his head, Fox turned around with a knowing smile sneaking a small hop to his step as he walked. 

He half-heartedly hoped Hollow would arrive just when they made a show and empty the treasury. He would be a perfect witness for his craft since the king decided to ignore the notice. 

* * *

Keeping the newfound knowledge hidden in his pocket, Fox decided to head to the other corridor. One that was so close to the courtyard that the orchestra’s merry tunes managed to make their way through the stone walls, eerily echoing in the darkness. There was something mesmerising about the way they enjoyed their night as if the guillotine was not set above their neck, ready to strike down whenever the signal is given.

If Fox made an effort, he could’ve probably warned them, walk in front of the royal family and offer an intel as he sets on his knees like a loyal servant he is roleplaying as. However, even if he did that his words would have no evidence to back his claims resulting in a frown and a hearty laughter on the joke he had said.

After all, real threats are often the hardest to prove. A coup is a coup because they shouldn’t see it coming and prepare accordingly. That’s how spineless cowards make their way to the top, he thought to himself, nodding as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Reaching another small inner garden, he stopped for a second musing on how carefree they all sounded. Celebrating the birthday of an unjust ruler whose family should’ve never gone near the throne at all.

However, just before he had a chance to dwell deeper into royal families and their way of handling imminent threats, a pair of footsteps hit his ears, rapidly growing closer almost as if the person was in a hurry, possibly running. Halting his steps, he waited, squinting with his fox-like eyes.

At the end of the darkened corridors a brighter form appeared, gradually revealing the same chequered attire his group had fetched for the mission. Yet somehow the same pattern looked differently on him, than the rest of the servants he had seen in passing. Almost as if it had the atmosphere of a costume, rather than an everyday wear. His suspicion was proved when he noticed the man repeatedly set his sleeve right and pulling his petticoat back to his shoulder even while he ran, almost as if it was a habit of his to keep himself proper.

Far too elegant for a mere servant. Yet far too comfortable in the castle to be an intruder.

At the same time, the way his entire left side seemed to be damaged, leaving him with a long scar that ran down his cheek and the way his left eye remained closed ruined the image of perception, throwing people off his real 

Phantom Fox narrowed his eyes, his interest piqued by the strange phenomenon and the possibility to finally satiate his curiosity while seeking chaos. Wearing a grin, he stopped the man with a greeting before he had a chance to turn around, upon their eyes meeting.

“Shouldn’t you be at the prince’s birthday?” he asked casually, but did not miss the way the man flinched. He seemed lost for a second almost as if he did not consider the occasion for the empty hallways. 

“The prince ordered me to fetch something for him.” he said immediately, lifting his hands in defence.

“Oh and what was it? If you tell me, maybe I could help you look for it. I have to admit, I have a quite keen eye that might be able to spot a needle dropped in the haystack! Whatever the princeling needs would be found the moment it comes into sight,” he nodded agreeingly, but the man did not seem to be convinced by his self-compliments. 

He just frowned, uttering, “No thanks.”, before he tried to get past the fox.

“Are you sure? You shouldn’t be out here alone when everyone else is celebrating. I am just a mere servant of the lower circles, but you seem to be higher on the hierarchy! After all the importance of pawns and rooks cannot be compared…”

The black haired man took a hesitant step backward. The small lures Fox had dropped between his sentences seemed to work, slowly revealing the true colours hidden beneath the monochrome attire. 

“I-I am afraid you are mistaken,” his voice wavered for a second. “I am no closer to his royal highness like anyone else… He… He barely bats an eye at me, let alone indulge me in personal tasks. Today is an exception as those in higher ranks are far too busy.”

“Oh? My bad then, I probably mistook you for someone else,” his eyes narrowed as he watched the gestures paired with the statement. People, when they are about to tell a lie have a tendency to signal this with a subconscious expression or a small movement. In the man’s case, he kept reaching for his wrist, as if he was about to reach for an invisible fabric. 

Each lie that he uttered brought the same reaction fascinating the fox. He wondered how far he could go in order to make the man reveal everything to him without noticing. Just how many times would those slender fingers reach up, before the so-called servant caught up on his little scheme?

However, just before Fox had a chance to delve deeper into his theory and untangle the truth the hallway brought them the voices of two people, growing louder by the moment and making the man flinch as he turned around, his face reflecting his inner turmoil. He looked for an exit, but Fox’s appearance seemingly ruined his plans to sneak around in silence. 

He couldn’t run away, but he also couldn’t just stand idly and wait for his peers.

His frustration was almost adorable. So adorable that Fox took pity on him.

“May I…?” he reached out for the man’s wrist, surprised by how easily his fingers clasped around it. The servant fought back, trying to free himself, but eventually he seemed to understand Fox’s intention allowing himself to be dragged beneath the row of honeysuckle bushes.

“I’d lie on the ground, if you don’t want to be found,” he noted with a cheeky grin earning a stare from the dark haired man as if the mere suggestion offended him. When he saw that his fellow servant refused to budge from his hiding spot, Fox grabbed him again, pushing him on the ground with force.

“Unhand me this instant,” the man hissed at him, but he couldn’t continue with the servants around the corner. Being found carried far too many risks for him and it could possibly ruin months of careful planning. 

“Go on, your majesty. I am sure they would be interested in why you are hiding with a lowly servant beneath the bushes.”

The prince grew pale beneath him.

He was caught before he even had a chance to make his move.

 

Notes:

The literal hidden jokermike in the corner hahahaha But this time they are there to move the plot forward and raise the danger levels as the hostile army is closing in on them.

Feel free to scream at me if you meet in game or at @/tallemy over twitter o/

Chapter 3: The Knight

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Whenever someone mentions the title of a prince, one can’t help but imagine pristine perfection. The image of flawless skin, well-kept and smooth hair and a radiant smile that would make the subjects melt on the spot. They would be blinded by the regal air that was somehow became connected to looks over the years, anticipating for the sovereign’s next words be it an angrily bellowed order or a quietly uttered request.

As long as it came from the one wearing the crown, anything was fine. After all someone who could attain such looks, were meant for bigger achievements in life.

Little did they know that the truth behind the glamorous looks was nothing more than the luxury of having access to everything they ever dreamed about. A King’s table never lacked meat, vegetables and they were the only ones who could afford living castles that provided cold in the scorching heat of summer and heated rooms to keep themselves and their more exotic trees over winter to shield them from frost. It became easier to look presentable when everything needed was at arm’s length and they were not forced to sit down and create everything by their own hands.

However, if anyone were to tell him that the person beneath him was royalty he would have laughed in their face, probably even making a joke and likening himself to king of the forest if the claim were to be proven true. 

Aside from his neat attire and carefully crafted words, the prince known as Matthias looked no different than a rowdy villager and if it was not for Fox’s keen eyes for tidiness, he would’ve blended into the myriad of servants far too easily with his messy hair and pale sickly face. Nobody would have even suspected a prince twirling around them, playing make believe to avoid his responsibilities.

The thief pressed his lips together to stop himself from voicing his opinions and focused his attention on the man beneath him, further studying his features.

Despite being elegant and quite handsome, the prince looked as if he had decades of pain pushed onto his shoulders curtailed greatly the royal charm. Fox had to wonder if those lips had ever pulled naturally into a smile or they were forever stuck in a frown bringing rain clouds wherever he went. The dark circles beneath his eyes just further diminished the handsome face. What a shame.

However, those lips didn’t have a chance to open because just before the prince could speak what was on his mind a gloved hand stopped his voice.

“Those who are on the run should not be crying for help,” Fox reminded him, his eyes glowing with mischief. To further his statement he pressed tightly against the prince, cutting away his last chance of escape and his last chance to expose his little plan. Leaning closer, he whispered, “Besides, I did not come here for regicide tonight.”

For a second he saw panic and felt the prince’s body tense up beneath him almost as if he just realized the true danger he had accidentally ran into. 

The fox that had unnoticedly lurked into the major. 

The fox that somehow wanted to protect the very animal he wanted to slaughter…

 

* * *

 

Bit by bit, the sound of footsteps gradually grew closer and soon enough Fox was able to make out two distinct voices as they conversed on their nightly walk. One of them, a young woman, seemed to be worried, but masked this with false cheerful chattering, words following each other in rapid succession only halting when the young man let out a loud huff that echoed through the entire corridor. 

“Well, when can we finally state that the prince is gone? I am getting bored.”

“I don’t wanna see you sighing! Not until we are a hundred and one percent sure and we have looked under every rock and behind every painting,” the young woman argued, but there was something in her voice that struck Fox as odd. Besides the expected frustration and worry, it seemed as if she was in for the thrill of the search. Her voice resonated with a strange ring of honesty, “If we find the prince without help we can share a fun little story in the future. But if we tell the guards or ask for their help, we are not only playing with our titles as retainers but the entire court will be in panic because they don’t know him like we do!”

“We do?” came a surprised reply and the man suddenly halted his steps. “I am not sure about that. We are just his retainers, not close friends. I don’t think he ever considered us friends either. That’s just the way it is. We might have learned his habits, on how he likes to spend his free time but at the end of the day our job is to serve him, even if it means dying with a dagger through our chest.”

“Even if he does not see us as friends or job IS to see him as our friend.”

“Oh, how I wish to share your naiveté… Of friendship in a court built on corpses of our ancestors,” the man let out an exasperated sigh. Fox could see the prince’s eyes widen at the statement and whatever little fight he had in his body slowly mellowed out into a weak surrender. “If you ask me, maybe it’s better if he is not around today…”

“What do you mean?”

“Tonight will be long so he better spends it the way he wants, not the way papa and mama had planned. Not like the parents noticed that the heir is gone. They are too preoccupied with that thing they sat in his seat… Hey are you even listening? Lily...!”

The woman did not answer to his long winded monologue. In her mind there was probably no reason to continue going in circles and wallowing in the pitiful state of the court. The past should stay where it belongs.

Instead, she walked closer to the wall of honeysuckle they had hid under, her white shoes stopped at the edge of the pavement as she stood on her tiptoes to take a peek at the small garden on the other side.

“Your highness, please come out wherever you are! Prince Matthias!” she shouted, but the prince beneath Fox remained silent. He did not fight nor tried to open his mouth. His thoughts were somewhere else, running laps around the sentence his supposedly loyal retainer had uttered, trying to digest that he had been living a lie this whole time.  

“Maybe we should check the kitchen,” the man suggested.

“Why?”

“Because if I were his royal highness, I’d try to get my cake without having to smile and wave to those fools. Remember, they are not here to celebrate him, but to kiss up to his parents. The menu is good, it’s the guest list that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. If we find him there we can all be happy about it, if not we will just leave him be.”

“You talk as if it was that easy,” the other retainer huffed.

“Well, isn’t it?”

The girl did not answer, but from the look of it she seemed to heed the other knight’s words as their footsteps gradually melted into the music that echoed through the empty halls leaving Fox and the prince in the sweet and suffocating cloud of the honeysuckle bush.

The first one to grow annoyed by their position was the prince and once he was sure that his retainers were indeed gone, he forcefully pushed the other man off of him. He seemed lost, tormented by a new swarm of thoughts that were brought upon his head by the indifference of his own guards. His breathing became difficult as fear ran plainly through his eyes. 

“So your highness, what do you intend to do now? Where do you plan on going?” Fox asked. A genuine question, but his timing couldn’t have been worse as the prince immediately threw him a piercing glare.

“It’s none of your business,” the prince hissed. 

“You have to admit when I saved your hide it kind of became a little bit of my business too,” he lifted his hand almost pinching his thumb and index finger together. “Just a bit.”

To his reply the prince just sighs in defeat, leaning back as if he admitted his defeat. 

“You don’t need to concern you with my troubles, I will figure something out.”

“If you ever need help—”

“There is no way I’d accept help from a thief and you should be glad that I don’t alarm the entire castle about your intrusion,” Matthias replied, not even allowing Fox to finish his sentence. 

The sudden burst of fire in the man’s attitude made him fascinated. Even if the flame left almost immediately for someone whose help was sought after, almost demanded on a regular basis until Fox himself could only live for others, a simple no was among the most beautiful words the prince could have ever uttered. 

The forced smile he was wearing as a mask faded for a second giving way to genuine surprise.

Matthias obviously needed help. It was clear as day. He was a prince, stuck in a cage surrounded by wolves, yet despite everything he held onto his remaining dignity and did not allow Fox closer than he was ought to be. A strange defiance he had never encountered before, but captivated him almost immediately.

For that one moment, he would have believed that he was facing a fairytale royalty. A pitiful pauper with a natural sense of leadership.

Maybe if the princeling were to change his mind and ask him to burn the whole castle down, he might even follow through with his request.

“If you don’t need my help now, fine. But if you ever find yourself in a pinch, Phantom Fox is the name. I think I’ll be around from the time being,” he beamed, the smile never leaving his face even as the prince stood up and dusted his pants.

“I can assure you, I won’t be needing your help,” with that the man clad in checkered attire turned around and walked where his retainers had came from, his footsteps gradually resounding farther and farther.

He should have stopped him. Hold into his thin arm and pull him back and convince him about the futility of his plan. After all Fox knew it better than anyone that the routes leading outside were hidden from the eyes of the castle’s current rulers and everything else was guarded so heavily not even a peddler could make their way through let alone the prince they all knew by some degree.

Maybe if he were to be less haughty, Fox would have told him about the coup. About the traitor who mixed into the carefully chosen court and now quietly feeds the monster that is ready to break through the walls.

Maybe… 

Maybe…

“But where would be the fun in that,” he muttered to himself, lying down on his back as he watched the dark sky above him occasionally lit up when a firework scattered somewhere in the distance, their sound reverberating in the air and singing against the distant orchestra. Shades of red, orange and green coloured the dark blue canvas leaving behind nothing but the stench of burnt gunpowder once they turned into smoke.

No matter how high they aimed or how bright they were, their light would never reach the small courtyard. Only their colourless remains cascaded down the sky the like cheerful early messengers of the flames that will soon engulf the gloomy stone walls of the castle. A last warning from the heavens, and a sign for Fox that he was running out of time.

However, even if there was a task at hand. A plan that he has been writing and rewriting for weeks, the meeting with the princeling unavoidably started something, a small spark that gradually grew into something bigger, burning with grandiose flames in his heart.

And unlike the fire stirred up by the enemy, this one will leave no one unscathed. 




Notes:

So actually fun tidbit, but castles (not to be mixed up with the walls that surrounded them) usually had tiled stoves, but also wall carpets and stained glass was considered to be great for insolation. At the time of sieges these windows were usually removed due to them being extremely fragile. Some kings even had the luxury to raise fruit trees found in warmer climates by storing them in a heated room in winter.

The castle the Czernins took has a bigger outer wall system, inside that the previous owners had builts several buildings for various purposes, connecting them later with arches and passages.

Chapter 4: The Queen

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Not too far away from their entry point, the two thieves finally met to organise their knowledge and discuss the future plan. However, just when he thought he arrived at a brilliant conclusion that would serve as the peak of the night, his idea was mercilessly shot down.

“Are you out of your mind?!” A woman’s voice cut into the silence of the room, making Fox flinch from its sheer power. The lone translucent fox ear protruding from his head quickly flattened against his hair as if it was to avoid hearing as he is reprimanded by his own subordinate.

“Which part do you mean? I did what you asked me to! Fully scouted the area. There are no guards safe for the ones desperately looking for the prince, but even they did not seem to pose much of a threat. In fact, they seemed to be fine with not finding him… Quite a curious case,” he hummed to himself walking around the room they had found for themselves as a temporary resting place.  

It was supposed to be a simple storage for heirloom belonging to a defeated royalty and yet the arrangement of items were too neat, almost as if someone pondered over the best possible way to place them and moved the furniture with so much care as if it belonged to them. With a bit of dusting and cleaning, it could have been made functional just within an hour if not less. Although the dresses in the wardrobe already shown signs of moths and time itself.

As his gaze wandered around in the dimly lit room, his attention was quickly taken by the painting on the wall. That was hung among smaller portraits.

It depicted a red haired woman similar to the one he had seen on the wall carpet, however her dress was more regal, the fabric playing in colours that seemed to mimic the back of a rose chafer. Green, yellow and turquoise melting into each other, but never causing disharmony. He did not know much about paintings, but even he could tell the work was something special.

However, before he had a chance to marvel at the craftsmanship, his thoughts were rudely interrupted by the woman leaning against the drawer on the other side of the room. Weaving her arms in front of her chest she watched him with a piercing gaze. 

“Don’t try to deter the conversation! We are here for the treasury, the giant room filled with the crown jewels, sacred objects, family heirlooms and the coins they collected from the village. We did not come here to play around with a fuzzy-cheeked stripling who decided to play catch in his own castle. He has his own babysitters for that,” Skeleton Key warned him just like she always did whenever Fox had a spark of an idea in the middle of a mission. In her book, the idea of going off script was something that could easily ruin weeks of planning and even when things seemed dire, she hold onto the initial plan. 

Which in this case, did not include stealing the prince.

“But if what they say is true, the prince is treated like an object, therefore he can be considered as a treasure,” he argued, throwing himself down on the dusty sofa, enjoying the way he stirred up dust in the dim room. “Besides, I am pretty sure the prince wouldn’t have any objections.”

“First of all, what you have just described is considered kidnapping, second, I doubt the prince would want that. He belongs here, with all the fancy pants.”

“He seemed to be quite eager to leave!” Fox noted.

“Then let him leave on his own. We have better things to focus on, besides we should hurry. Terminus must be worried for us.”

“Come on, a bit of worry never hurt anyone. It prepares his nerves for future, more dangerous missions,” he shrugged. 

“Or kill him before them,” the woman added, shaking her head. 

“You cannot win if you never risk anything.”

The whole conversation was spiralling down into a dead end where Fox would have the last word. Small exchanges that were elegant yet sly like the fencing technique of famous swordsmen. A battle where Skeleton Key couldn’t win even if she drew her gun and held it against the head of her own boss. He just wouldn’t change his mind, in fact, he would take his initial plan as a challenge where everyone was hell-bent to prevent his success. In his head, that was a clear sign that he had to go through with the idea he had in mind!

The woman's brows created a crease between each other that threatened to be a permanent addition to her looks. Eventually, she just closed her eyes, heaving a deep suffering sigh as she started pacing to and fro between an empty bookshelf and an unmoving grandfather clock.

“Alright, you stubborn mule, what did you have in mind? Depending on what you present I let you go on a little solo mission while I report back to Terminus,” her steps halted as she threw a piercing glare at the thief. “However, if you dare to go through with the kidnapping, I will shoot a new hole in your hide!” 

“Okay! No kidnapping, only snooping. Gotcha! Gotcha!” He lifted his hands in defeat. “How about learning a bit more about the family before robbing them good? Something is tickling my curiosity and I want to know what else is in the background and to do this, all I ask for is a little extra scouting.”

“So far so good,” she did not look convinced. “And how do you intend to do this?”

“But of course, by checking out the party. We are already dressed as the pawns of the family, might as well pay my duty to them properly!”

“The notice being ignored really did hurt your ego…” the woman blinked but her annoyance was gone, replaced by a cheeky grin. “Well, it’s not like I can stop you. Just don’t forget why we are here.”

“Me? Never!”

“You better not.”

If he were to stand up he would’ve immediately betrayed his own excitement with his tails wagging to and fro. Of course, he was annoyed by being ignored, after all there is a difference between showing people a miracle and stealing their belongings quietly in the dead of the night. There was no honour in the latter. It was just a boring routine.

But now with the coup on the horizon, the prince lost in his own castle, he was aching to jump into the midst of this chaos and be the spark that starts the show.



Notes:

A rather short chapter, but I just couldn't find the right way to jump to the court so Ithaqua will have to wait (in return, he gets his own chapter!)👀

Chapter 5: The Knight (?)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The more Fox walked around the rows of tables, pretending to rearrange the small bite sized pastry, the more suffocating the air around him had gotten as he started noticing small and unnatural scenes at the banquet held by the Czernins.

Not too far away from his position, he could see the seats kept for the royal pair, with the addition of a third one, possibly for the crown prince where an uncanny white puppet took his place, smiling at the guests with an empty expression. He wanted to ponder on its function, but at the end of the day, he had seen worse. He just wrote it up as another genteel jeer towards the runaway prince. 

Everything else seemed like a common set up for a banquet venue, elevating the royal pair above the sea of guests in case they needed some rest, but wanted to remain with their subjects to oversee the festivities.

As if such a night could be called as one.

 

In front of him, the champagne had overflown as it reached the rim of the crystalline glasses as the servant kept pouring the drink. Its white foam lazily trickled down the side, gathering on the silver plate beneath them. It would have been seen as a great mistake from maids as they not only made the host look clumsy, but also wasted precious drops of the alcohol that was so popular in the ranks of nobles. However, the servant did not seem to care and neither did the guests who had reached for the drinks with enthusiasm, unbothered by the alcohol that slowly seeped into their silk gloves gradually painting it yellow.

If this was the only part of the evening that did not make any sense, Fox would’ve easily overlooked the sloppy service and the inexperienced staff. After all, the family probably did not employ servants who knew about the proper way to pour drinks to guests and the etiquette that accompanied such feasts. Nobody would have expected a few villagers to immediately know the customs of nobility. 

However, the closer he walked to the fire, the more he noticed the small little details about the evening that made him blink in confusion and almost made his hidden orange ears perk up. 

 

The first oddity was barely noticeable at first as his attention was always somewhere else. The merry song played by the small orchestra near the wall on the opposite side of the courtyard served as nothing more than a small hum in the background. However, now that his attention was fully on the party, he couldn’t ignore it anymore. 

The music never truly changed.

It remained the same melody that echoed through the halls ever since they’d arrived. The orchestra that was hired did not seem to mind the monotone repertoire. Whenever they reached the end of the song they would start from the beginning with the same enthusiasm they had shown when Fox first entered the court. By the fifth repeat he wondered if he could take the place of the man who played the zither. 

The sudden change of staff would probably go unnoticed by the guests. They were too busy repeating the same discussions over and over again, laughing at the same jokes as if they heard them for the first time that evening.

“On an evening such as this, only outsiders do not go with the flow. Are you perhaps unfamiliar with the customs of this country?” he heard a familiar voice belonging to none other than the crown prince’s retainer. Cheerful, yet devoid of glee, putting Fox’s own acting skills to shame. 

 

As he turned around he was greeted by a man clad in black, the silver embroidery glistening against his black dolman and the white pelisse that covered his left shoulder. His dark eyes seemed to peer into his soul, sending a small shiver down his back. It was like facing a storm on a cold winter night and he had the feeling the man was just as deadly.

“Alas, I am still quite new, my lord” he muttered with a shocked expression as he started rearranging the champagne glasses until they formed a perfect row, setting his gaze on the overflowing glasses. The knight did not concern himself and took one, disturbing the hasty job and forcing him to start over. 

That is something I can see. Not only new, but walking without a string. Quite the combination,” he noted with a smile. “I should report this to his Majesty with great haste so you would be put in your place in their little toy box.”

“You make it seem as if you don’t want that, my lord…” he replied shyly. 

“Just call me Ithaqua. I am sick and tired of all the noble talk. And to answer your statement… Tell me, where is the fun in obedience?” he grinned, raising the glass of champagne to his lips. “Parties are all about unexpected surprises, but this family managed to turn even this into mere formalities and empty scenes on repeat. What a bore. See that lady with the green dress and the ostrich feather hat? She has been talking about her husband’s business for hours, but she never gets to the ending of her story. There is no intrigue!”

“I’ve only been invited to serve them for the evening, so if it’s not a problem, I’d like to know more about them. You seem to harbour some negative feelings towards the family,” Fox tried to strike up a conversation. The royal retainer seemed to be the only one who could give him more information, but the air of danger prevented him from bringing out his usual direct persona. 

“Grand question. Who doesn’t,” the man shrugged, his cold eyes finding the royal pair in the crowd. “They would rather have a banquet held for puppets as long as they do not have to deal with the hatred of their own subjects. A cowardly way to exist, but alas, it has been working out fine.”

The music started its cycle again in the background, just as cheerfully as it was on the previous repeats. The man grimaced, but downed his bitter expression with a sip from his drink.

“Even if it’s for their own son?” Fox treaded carefully. Bit by bit, just like a hunter sneaks up on the farm, he made sure to rethink each word he uttered.

“Huh, you weren’t lying about being a newcomer… Those two?” he nodded towards the royal couple. “Nothing would make them happier than to have their son on a string, At least they would no longer have problems with his temper tantrums and moody behaviour. Tell him where to sit, what to do and he would do it. The perfect obedient puppet. All parents dream of that, don’t they?”

Florian considered taking a glass, however, as part of the servants working at the banquet it would have been seen as impropriety even if he happened to hold discussion with none other than a royal retainer while visibly avoiding his job. A little mistake might cost him his freedom, so in order to feed his hunger for knowledge he decided to keep himself to the act or rearranging glasses and allowing the knight to talk to himself.

“If they dream of that I am sure it would be no trouble for them. After all, they already enchanted everything in the vicinity,” he noted, arching his brows before deciding to flatter a bit more. “My Lord— Ithaqua, I am afraid I cannot imagine how one more person would pose a problem.”

 

To his argument the man just let out an exasperated sigh. He seemed to be disappointed but the sudden drop of formality quickly melted the ice and once he was done shaking his head, his blue eyes were set on Fox, looking at him with the same pity farmers look at their calves born in winter. 

“Well, think of it like that, if the Czernins could enchant each other as they please, what would stop them? Having no threats in their life would mean that anyone could fall for their trickery. There would be no limit to their power. Currently, if anyone but Prince Matthias would gaze at the royal pair, that person would be lost to this world. It’s nothing more than a natural defence mechanism. ” Ithaqua let out a small laugh as he watched the couple parade around, talking to their human puppets one by one as if they were to check on their playthings. If they laughed, the puppets laughed in return, if they grew angry, the guests would hold their heads in shame.

If these people were to control someone of their kin and faced no opposition, they could easily take over the while continent without a simple declaration of war.

Fox nodded along wearing an agreeing smile as the knight continued his monologue about the balance of magic. A state that the world keeps chasing even if humanity repeatedly keeps intertwining with its desperate aspiration for control. Fox had known it all too well as he experienced its fangs on his own skin, through the fire humans brought to his forest and his skin still kept the memories of how the flames that were supposed to cleanse nature with their dance mercilessly bit into living flesh, leaving their marks on him as they pleased. 

If the Czernins were also like the humans of his childhood, then it provided him one more reason to take everything they had. 

“Do forgive me the rude question, but if such an evening is held to celebrate the crown prince, where is he right now?”

“The crown prince? Well it depends on who you ask,” the man with blue eyes raised his eyebrows in surprise and he tilted his head for a second, almost as if he had heard the most obvious question that evening. “The royal parents would tell you that their beloved little one is sitting like the most obedient kid in all of the kingdom. Eternally young, without a problem,” he pointed at the throne on the other side of the courtyard.

Next to the seats that were set up for the couple, there was a third one, covered by mottled fabric and on top of it sat a human figure. Fox stared at it for a while and soon he managed to identify features that undeniably belonged to Matthias and yet, the more he looked the more he realised the figure couldn’t have been different.

While it shared the same features, its lifeless body radiated with cheerfulness he simply couldn’t match to the prince’s image. Matthias was nothing like that. His skin was paler, probably from hiding himself far too long in the corners of the castle and there was that peculiar melancholy that only a few could wear on their face with grace.

The puppet felt more like a decoration to mock him, than an attempt to temporarily fill his seat.

“Will they put that thing away when the crown prince arrives?”

“Nope. As I’ve said, what you are seeing there IS the crown prince of this rotten kingdom! He is the end of Matthias and the beginning of something new. According to the parents at least. If you ask me, it’s just a creepy puppet serving as a reminder that they had failed as parents. But don’t listen to a knight like me, obviously I too would love to keep my job for a while longer and that is only possible if the person I protect doesn’t get beheaded ahead of time. Figuratively speaking of course.”

“And where is the so called false prince now?”

Quickly finishing his drink, Fox’s answer was a smile, as if the man was waiting for the moment he would pose this question and he did not waste a second to grab onto the chance to speak more and share his knowledge with the self-proclaimed newcomer almost as if he was doing him a favour.

And he knew a lot.

Almost far too much to be considered a simple vassal and as he spoke Fox couldn’t chase away the feeling that despite how welcoming his kindness had felt, he was staring over a pond covered by duckweed. He had his own reason to seek chaos and Fox had a feeling it was only a matter of time when the creature lurking beneath the surface of the water would finally emerge.

Without knowing, led by the simple wish to take everything from unrightful rulers, he had walked straight into a web of complicated relationships. The Gordian knot that had accumulated over the years until the only thing capable of destroying it was fire. 

 

Notes:

Ithaqua loves listening to his own voice far too much, but then again anyone would if they were locked in the castle of the Czernins with the only non-enchanted people being th prince and Lily.

Notes:

This idea has been sitting in the back of my mind for weeks now. Next chapter will have Matthias at last but first we needed to have the grand set up.