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It was the happiest time of the year, the manor was bedazzled with gleaming ornaments and chains of garlands. The aroma of bristiling turkey seeped through the hall where Luca was hanging his last string of UK flags before sliding off the ladder. It was finally May, which means it’s Early May Bank Holiday!
“Merry Early May Bank Holiday to thou, Sir Luca!” Richard yelled from across the room, voice laced with excitement. “Verily, today marks the grandest time of the year. A humble knight such as I can scarce contain the gratitude that swells from the very depths of my heart; to witness a day that graces us but once a moon. Long live the king of this manor!”
Andrew shuffles behind him, a smile creeping on his lips as he carries a box filled to the brim with colorful sets of socks he took from manor residents to decorate the fireplace with. “H-Happy Early May Bank… Richard, Luca…!” His voice louder than usual. “Seems noble Sir Kreiss is in a most jolly mood today! Huzzah!” Richard turns his head around, the metal of his armor clinking with every step both men made towards Luca.
“W-well, I thought I would be quite… the downer… if I kept thinking of….. my dead mom.. on May Banks…” He mumbled, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. “Its almost time for… May Banks caroling… if you guys want to join me and Victor...” He continues. “Oh, I can’t,” Luca frowns. “Eggy and Vicky need my help with writing letterz to King Charlez da Third — poor guyz can’t even spell ‘May’ correctly.”
Andrew’s eyebrows join in a furrow “But.. but I don’t understand..? Victor is caroling with me—”
Luca presses his gloved hand on Andrew’s mouth, “—I’m sure Ricky, Frankydoodle or someone elze would love caroling with you two. I mean, that guy totally talkz in music metaphors XD! can’t even underztand half of da stuff he’s talking about.” He says, walking away and leaving Andrew behind with Richard, but when Andrew looks to his side to ask Richard to join his caroling, all he sees is a tattered scroll on the floor.
He crouches down to pick it up and spread it out, the letter reading:
‘Most noble Sir Kreiss and Sir Luca,
I find myself once more in a most tumultuous plight. Regrettably, I cannot join thee for the joyous caroling on the Early May Bank Holiday, as the tavern of the manor is undergoing vile repairs. It seems Lady Demi hath fermented figs within the very jar I use for storing dragon tears, and it seems those two do not mix well (Lady Demi and the tears.) She is currently trying to escort me out of the tavern, Alas, one demanding answers about the dragon tears hath only lead one astray by this vicious barmaid. However, I shall join thy company by the hearth at a later time.
Thy loyal knight, Richard Sterling.’
𓆩💸🏦💸𓆪
Victor, Marge, Mike, Anne and Lily stood in a choir in the hall leading to the manor residents’ rooms. Before them, Andrew stood proudly with his back straight, his muscles screaming in intense pain at the sudden change of posture. “Alright everyone… Just like we rehearsed.. but please… Mike.. make your voice a teensy bit lower if you don’t mind… I can’t hear Victor…” With a collective nod, they all start singing.
“Working through the year,
On a one day closed bank,
O’er the stocks we go,
Financing all the way,
Bells on bob tail ring,
making stores bright,
Oh, what fun it is to laugh and sing
A banking song tonight!
Oh, Jingle May, Jingle Day,
All banks are closed,
Oh, what a nice day to commemorate
the hard work of the working class,
Oh, Jingle May, Jingle Day!”
Orpheus stomps out of his bedroom, his feet angrily trudging on the floor, making the choir halt their singing.
“What’s all this fuss about?!” He yells. “Oh gee… Sorry Mr. Orpheus… Victor and I.. We just wanted to spread the holiday cheer..” Andrew stammers, fingers fidgeting on his shovel.
“Holiday cheer?! What is this, a J.K Rowling book?” The man scoffs. “Some of us have more important matters to attend to, you know? Please cease this madness before I wax your eyebrows off.” He glares. “Oh deary me, Mr. Orpheus! Please leave ma eyebrows outta this! Am leavin’!” Mike Moron backflips to leave the hall, Marge, Anne, and Lily following behind.
Orpheus lets out a triumphant huff, puffing out his chest with a devious sneer on his face. He looks Victor and Andrew up and down with a cock of his eyebrow. “Run along now, chop chop!” The gravekeeper looks between the postman and the novelist nervously and gulps. But before he could articulate a response, Victor pulls him by his wrist and dashes towards the living room.
𓆩💸🏦💸𓆪
Next to the lit crinkling of the fireplace, sits Edgar, Frederick and Luca. The air between them growing thick, each giving the other captious glares. Frederick, being the “nobleman” he is, decided to make an attempt at conversing while they wrote their letters to king Charles the Third.
“Mr. Balda,” His words hang in the air.
Luca’s good eye twitched. His organ of sight waltzed over to the general direction of the voice before fixating his attention on his letter again. “It’z Balsa,” He responds with a grit of his teeth.
“Don’t let the details derail your peace of mind.” The composer replied, bristling at the prisoner's tone. Someone was adding a little extra spice to their attitude. “Mr. Balda, I don’t know what’s got your keys all pressed, but I would appreciate at least some sunshine in your vocal inflection! Play a brighter, more major key tune for little old me, won’t you?”
Both men turn their heads at the sound of a familiar scoff coming from the man between them. “What iz it, Edgar?” Luca nudged him with his arm, the other scowling at the contact and keeps silent.
“Seems you’re not the only one in a sour mood today, Balda,” Frederick grins, amused at the development of their slowly billowing smoke of anger.
“Ah.”
His hands knock down the inkwell next to him, sending the black fluid to disperse through Edgar’s letter, soaking it with the dimmed colors of its ink.
Edgar stood up, the flames in the fireplace crinkled.
“Fr4nkyd00dl3, 1 tr13d pl4y1ng n1c3 but 1’v3 4bs0lut3ly h4d 1t w1th y0u 4nd y0ur f00l1shn3ss. 1 w4s 0n my l4st str4w, 4nd y0u w3nt 4nd d3str0y3d my BL00DY L3TT3R.” he screeched out, the composer jolting at his response.
“Guyz, pleaze, it’z May Bankz, can we do dis another day..” Luca chimed in, as futile as it sounds.
“Y0u,” Edgar pointed at Luca, voice spiked with pure poison. “Y0u k33p try1ng t0 b3 th3 p3ac3 m4k3r wh3n 0bv10usly, y0u’r3 th3 pr0bl3m. Y0u kn0w wh4t, Luc4? 1’m s1ck 0f y0u— I’m s1ck 0f y0u and Fr4nkyd00dl3 m3ss1ng up my l3tt3r. H0w w0uld y0u f33l 1f 1 w4s th3 0n3 wh0 g0t 1nk all 0ver y0ur p4p3r, hmmm?!”
“It seems the fact that this was a purely unintended accident flew right over Mr. Velden’s head. Truly, how imbecilic can one be before it’s dangerous?” Frederick chuckles behind his palm.
“1t’s V4ld3n,” Edgar says between gritted teeth, hatred for the latter exuding through as his spit flew directly onto Frederick’s face.
“You vile, putrid being! Even Andrew has more class than you!” Frederick scowls as he reaches for the napkin he keeps in his pocket. “0h, d0n’t 3v3n! Y0u st4rt3d 1t! W3 w0uldn’t b3 h3r3 1f y0u d1dn’t h4v3 t0 b3 such a w34s3l ab0ut c4r0l1ng w1th Andr3w.” Edgar wraps his arms together, pure disdain towards the other making itself present within his tone.
The tongues of the fire roared when Frederick stood up, shoes grazing over the splatters of ink on the floor while glaring holes into Edgar’s being.
“Get a load of this one, Balda!” He laughs maniacally. “I, a Kreiburg, have absolutely no business caroling with a bunch of degenerate fools such as tone-deaf-Andrew; that man can’t even hold a note for longer than three beats! You, on the other hand, seem to be the perfect candidate for such childish deeds hence you got all worked up over me spilling ink on your badly written letter to King Charles— I mean, look at this!” He crouches down, lightly wiping the ink off Edgar’s letter with his napkin before loudly reading,
“D34r K1ng Ch4rl3s,
M4y y0u c0m3 d0wn fr0m th3 n0rth p0l3 to sm1t3 up0n th3 unw4sh3d b4cks 0f my “b0yfr13nds”, Fk4nr00del, 4ndr3w, Luc4, V1ct0r, and R1ch4rd, t0 3nd th31r p1t1ful 4nd us3l3ss l1v3s.
Y0urs, Eggw4rd V3ld4n”
The soft shades of marigold in the fireplace illuminated the vexed frown plastered on Edgar's face, his eyebrows curled, teeth densely clenched together, separating as if they were only mere colors hopelessly scattered on a vacant canvas.
Luca snorted at the letter’s contents, turning back slightly to peek at Edgars reaction, only to get a full inkwell thrown into his face. He jolted at the sudden contact with the black ink, letting out a slight gasp as it trinkled over his features. He wiped the liquid off his face to see who the culprit was, and…
“Th1s 1nk… 1T ST41NS F0R D4YS. TH1S 1S WH4T Y0U D3G3N3R4T3S D3S3RV3,” Edgar spat out, glaring at the ink-covered men like they had just insulted his first child (which he is going to name Van Gogh.) “H0W D4R3 Y0U L4UGH 4T MY CR34T10N, S0M3TH1NG 1 P0UR3D MY H34RT 4ND S0UL 1NT0!” He started bawling hysterically, covering his face with his hands. “Th1s 1s r3m1nd1ng m3 0f th3 t1m3 0n3 0f my cl4ssm4t3s 1n 4rt sp1ll3d p41nt 0n my c4nv4s… 1 f3lt m1s3r4bl3 4nd w0rthl3ss. Y0u kn3w th1s w0uld h4pp3n, d1dn’t y0u… Y0u 1ns3ns1t1v3 p13c3s 0f m0d3rn 4rt. Y0u w1ll n3v3r und3rst4nd m3.” He finished, crossing his arms defensively.
“Dear heavens, Balda, are you hearing this one? I wouldn’t go overboard given that your letter is filled to the brim with incoherent words and— get this, you misspelled my name horribly to begin with! And even if King Charles were to somehow understand any of your idioms he wouldn’t ‘smite me down’ as there is no such person who goes by the name ‘Fkanroodel’, not to mention, King Charles is almost seventy-six; in no world would he understand such vagrant words that are purely syllables and digits mixed together. Truly how stupid can one be?” Frederick scoffs, throwing Edgar’s letter into the fire — but just as he was about to sit back down, Edgar grabs him by his velvet windbreaker and starts tugging him from his ashy ponytail.
Frederick shrieks, trying to fight back but he wasn’t even making Edgar budge (stupid piano fingers!). “Halt! Lord Edgar, just what do you intend on doing to sir Kreiburg?! Hast thou lost all reason?!” Richard waltzed in, swinging his sword madly about as a flail, hoping it’d scare Edgar into letting Frederick go. Unfortunately, the painter didn’t even do so much as glance in his direction, the prisoner gaping at him instead.
“St4y 0ut 0f th1s y0u 1nf3r10r, p4th3t1c b31ng! D0n’t try t0 d1str4ct m3!” Edgar rages, swinging Frederick around like a ragdoll to emphasize his fury and dominance, the white haired man squealing as he gets thrown around, only fueling Edgars anger.
“For the love of all that is holy, let go of me, you senseless fool!” Frederick reached for the other’s ponytail, yanking it off surprisingly fast, “Ha! It seems your hair strands are as fragile as your pride!” He yelled, throwing Edgars ponytail into the fireplace. Richard and Luca gasped at his action, bracing themselves for Edgars reaction.
Before Edgar could muster up a coherent thought, or even do so much as fight back after the flames enveloped his ponytail, the living room door creaked open, revealing two petrified men; Andrew and Victor.
Even the roaring flames of the fireplace are kept behind a gate, and even if the fire was galled, it won’t be too long before it’s inevitable death.
𓆩💸🏦💸𓆪
A wave of silence tickled the crevices of their booty cheeks, even if it was for a moment, it still tortured and ripped through them.
Andrew’s eyes traveled between Frederick and Edgar in an odyssey, nervously fiddling with the iris pendant from his chest pocket. He felt a layer of sweat coat his forehead as the air surrounding them drifted with intensity. Till Richard finally broke through,
“What hath gotten into both of thee, Lord Edgar, Sir Kreiburg?!” He shouted, earning himself a glance from the two men. Frederick scoffed, turning his head away, Edgar, on the other hand, found himself too intrigued by the regal embellishments on the walls to answer Richard’s itching question, and if his question itched — what would make of the irritating prickle between his buttocks?
“Stand ho! How undignified, the manner in which you young lads are behaving... A jubilant day such as this one, all of thee simply must enjoy this holy occasion to its fullest! Henceforth, we shall bray out!” Richard bristled, his thick armor clinking as he wrapped his arms together.
“Oh ma gaad 0_0 Ricky, can we juzt get over dis and start opening prezentz? Am getting bored AF. Can you alzo take off your armor it’z so frickin loud!! -_-” Luca groans, flailing his arms to emphasize his boredom but, to tell you the truth: he’d much rather watch Edgar and Frederick resolve their differences only to quickly come back to square one, in which case both men would rather give up pickleball Fridays to avoid being within the other’s vicinity.
Granted, it never goes Luca’s way.
“Very well then, as Balda said, let’s put this aside for now and start opening presents,” The composer added, glancing down at Edgar with a scrunch of his nose. ”Who was on present duty this year?” Frederick fixes his windbreaker, slowly eyeing everyone, slightly baffled by all the judgmental stares coming his way.
“It was my turn this year, wasn’t it?” He dares ask.
Edgar groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Y0u l1t3r4lly c4n’t d0 anyth1ng r1ght, Fr4nkyd00dl3. F1rst, y0u m3ss3d up 3v3ry0n3’s l3tt3rs t0 K1ng Ch4rl3s, th3n, y0u pluck3d 0ut my p0nyt41l and thr3w 1t 1n th3 f1r3, and n0w, y0u f0rg0t t0 br1ng 0ur pr3s3nts! Wh4t d0 1 d0 w1th y0u?!”
“Oh, please! spare me your unsolicited opinions, Velden. You think this glissando of events is all my fault when clearly, it’s yours! Don’t play the role of a conductor in an orchestra when you can’t stand an out-of-tune string!” Frederick scoffs, again, looking away.
“Guys.. please stop fighting…. M-Me and Victor brought presents…” Andrew croaked out, clearly uncomfortable by the tense atmosphere in the room. “W0w. 1 n3v3r th0ught s0m30n3 l1k3 y0u w0uld 3v3r b3 g00d f0r s0m3th1ng. Hurry and br1ng 0ut th3 pr3s3nts th3n, g3t 0n w1th 1t!” Edgar responded in a snarky tone, slightly curious on what Andrew could’ve gotten for him. Although, his expectations were 6 feet under, just like his lord and savior Vincent Van Gogh.
Andrew rummaged through his capelet, soft cracking noises dominated the silence, increasing the anticipation. The air thickens as the popping noise builds up till he reveals a bag: dog treats. The men before him exchange confused glances till Edgar breaks through with a groan and more jabs at Andrew — and to that, Andrew only sulks further in shame. Victor notices and quickly writes something down on his notebook:
‘Are these for Wick?’
Andrew smiles and nods. “Oh, spare me, Andrew! if these were for Wickles, why would you ever say that you brought presents? Do you take us for morons?” Frederick scoffs. “I’m sorry.. Frankydoodle… I didn’t mean to get your hopes up…” Andrew bites his lower lip, guilt gnawing at him as yet another argument unfolds, but it's nothing new, really. “I perzonally wouldn’t be talking if I waz you, Franky -_- Like not to defend Andy but you forgotz to bring our prezentz when you were da one assigned to bring prezzys this year.” Luca leaned back, rolling his eyes.
Frederick glared daggers into his soul when Victor tried grabbing everyone’s attention, nevertheless, every ahem that escaped his throat proved futile: Edgar was on a rampage, trying to defend Luca from Frederick’s obnoxiously loud mini piano that plays whenever he’s about to lose an argument. Till he sneezed, landing his mucus on Edgar’s hat, to his luck, the latter doesn’t seem to notice a strangely slimy booger sitting atop his hat proudly— but it seems someone else noticed, that’s when he feels a hand on his shoulder and worried eyes glancing his way. Andrew.
“Oh dear God.. Did you catch a cold, Victor? One of the sisters at my church… taught me how to brew homemade medicine… if you need some…” He asks, eyes never leaving Victor’s nervously darting ones, going back and forth between the mucus on Edgar’s hat and Andrew. Eventually, Victor shakes his head and points at the Kreiburg Racecourse notebook on his lap, thankfully, Andrew understands and grabs it, telling everyone that it’s time to look at the present Victor made.
He opens the notebook, flipping over to the page Victor previously showed him, and revealed it to the rest. It was a drawing of all six of them, as stick figures, happily holding hands in front of the manor. He made sure to capture each and every one of them in their essence, Andrew with his shovel, Luca with his handcuffs, Frederick with his tuning fork, Edgar with his palette, Richard with his sword, and lastly, himself, holding a letter that says VALFER in bold letters with a crimson red heart. He smiled, but his smile soon faded when he saw everyone’s expressions.
Edgar: “1s th1s an 1nsult? Y0u th1nk y0u’r3 b3tt3r th4n m3 at art n0w, V1ct0r?”
Luca: “I litch don’t look like dat -_- And lazt time I checked, am not wearing any handcuffz.”
Richard: “By my troth! Is that a dragon soaring in the heavens? Ah, nay, 'tis merely but a bird. I beg thy pardon.”
Frederick: “I say we burn it. I can’t have that horrendous, atrocious picture encapsulate my essence like this. For all that is holy, I certainly do not look like I was stung by Melly’s bees.”
Edgar: “C4n’t b3l13v3 1’m agr331ng w1th Fr4nkyd00dl3, but th1s p4g3 n33ds t0 g0. G1v3 m3 th4t!”
He reaches over to snatch the notebook from Andrew's grasp, only for Andrew to turn around, a protective arm shielding the very notebook Victor cherishes. “Guys… Victor drew this for us… God wouldn’t like it if you destroyed the gift he made us.. love thy neighbour…” He mutters, his grip on the notebook growing stronger as Edgar tugs at him to turn around.
“Please tell me you don’t plan on framing that drawing, Andrew. By all means, it’s much worse quality than that saxophone cover of Für Elise my sixteenth uncle made that I had the utmost displeasure of hearing.” Frederick gestures to Andrew to give up the notebook.
Andrew glanced over at the others, trying to ignore the dried, nasal mucus lying on top of Edgars beret. “Um… But I want to show Victor that I appreciate… his efforts.. so I was hoping we could… put it up somewhere in Kreiburg racecourse.. since that's our favourite map and all…”
“H0w d4r3 y0u 4ccus3 m3 0f h4v1ng such 4 p4th3t1c 4nd 4tr0c10us m4p 4s my f4v0ur1t3. B31ng 1n th4t wr3tch3d pl4c3 r3m1nds m3 0f Fr4nkyd00dl3 4nd qu1t3 fr4nkly, th3 th0ught 0f h1m f1lls m3 w1th dr34d, c4us1ng m3 t0 r3l4ps3.”
“Uhh yea no offenze Andy but dat map reekz of prison foodz X_X And truzt me- I’d kno a thing or two :P.” Luca added his bit.
“Hold!” Richard raised his hand, stepping forward in front of the group. “Conclude thy quarrel and make amends forthwith! Pray tell, what shall be the point of such pyrrhic victories?! Let us make an exhilarating attempt at celebrating this fair and wondrous holiday! We shall prosper henceforth as the joyous couple that we are, as this is our destined fate.”
The tension in the air was palpable as Richard spoke those words of dishonesty. Frederick intervenes, “Mr. Sirling, you must be tight as a boiled owl. I just cannot understand where you got the ‘joyous couple’ part from! It’s almost as incomprehensible as my thirteenth uncle's late night musical lectures! For goodness’ sake, where he acquires his knowledge, I couldn’t tell you!… Half the time, it’s ridiculously innacur-”
“Shut up Fr4nkyd00dl3. N0 0ne g1v3s 4 P1c4ss0 p41nt1ng 4b0ut y0ur f4m1ly,” Edgar interrupted Frederick’s monologue, earning himself a stern glare from the composer.
“Eggy, calm down 0_0 Let’z all kizz each other to blow some steam off.. let’z start wit Vicky.. ” Luca says, pointing at the blond man sitting across him.
The said man yelped and scurried to kiss Edgar, to that, Edgar scowled and inched closer to Frederick, giving him a short peck on the lips before Frederick wiped his mouth (with a disposable handkerchief, of course!) and left a small kiss on Richard’s lips, Richard reciprocated his kiss, deepening it, causing both men to get lashings from Edgar for showing PDA. Richard apologized and proceeded to kiss Andrew with a small smile, and finally, it was time for Andrew to kiss Luca.
The prisoner braced himself, feeling the gravekeepers chapped lips press against his, immersing them in a thick atmosphere, making Edgar pass them a sneaky glare. The two men ignored the painter, Andrew continuing to pass Luca a ‘smackeroo.’ The brunette decided to take it a step further, going in for a french kiss. He licked the blonde's lips, engulfing them in his saliva, which Andrew took as an indelicate invitation to slightly part the edges of his mouth, allowing Luca to fully embrace the others tongue with his own. The others watched in awe (and disgust from Frederick and Edgar), the painter too stunned to scold them.
Andrew suddenly stiffened, his face pale as a sheet. Luca assumed he got shy because of the others watching them, but no; the other lets out an abrupt cough, before fully erupting into a coughing fit which caused Luca to pull away. Andrew started wheezing and gasping for air, grasping his chest. While the rest of VALFER were completely stunned, Victor immediately sprung into action.
He grabbed his Kreiburg Racecourse notebook and started moving his pen at an impressive speed. ‘Look for his inhaler ASAP’ was written down, next to a doodle of Luca with squiggly lines coming out of his mouth (to represent the remnants of smoke from the cigarette he had earlier) and Andrew choking next to him.
“NAY! Fret not, noble sir Kreiss. I shall seek it out, by my troth!” Richard exclaimed, emphasizing his claim by putting on a pair of Galilean binoculars.
“4r3 y0u k1dd1ng m3. 1s th1s 4ny t1m3 t0 b3 h4v1ng 4n 4sthm4 4tt4ck, 4ndr3w? 4ft3r 1 w3nt thr0ugh 4ll th3 tr0ubl3 0f try1ng t0 p4rt1c1p4t3 1n 4 V4LF3R 4ct1v1ty by k1ss1ng th0se d4rn f41lur3s Fr4nkyd00dl3 4nd V1ct0r… 4ll my 3ff0rts h4v3 g0n3 t0 w4st3…” Edgar voiced his disbelief, starting to loudly cry into his palms, shoulders hitching up and down with each sob.
“Now, now,” Richard holds Edgar, his chestplate pressing onto Edgar’s chest. “I must confess, lord Edgar, I am most envious of your bravery in showing such vulnerability. Truly,” he halts for a moment, going down on one knee to take Edgar’s hand into his to proceed, “your volition to expose your blemishes is as bold as it is… well, unique. Some of us ought to take note of your great valor,” He side-eyes Frederick, who was dumbfounded by this turn of events, he blinks a little and he doesn’t look too happy about what Richard just said.
“Pardon? What on Beethoven's fortepiano are you insinuating, Mr. Sirling?” Frederick peevishly asked, taking offense to the knights sly innuendo. “Truly, what a foolish statement… At Least I have the decency to stroll around without vile nasal secretions lying atop my glorious, unpowdered tête!” He added, referring to the snot on Edgars hat. Richard and Luca scrunched their noses at the sight, while Victor started sweating nervously (as he was still looking for Andrews inhaler).
“Wh4t. Fr4nkyd00dl3. Y0u 4r3 such 4 ch1ld, 4r3 w3 just m4k1ng stuff up n0w?! Th4t’s just s1ck 4nd tw1st3d…” The painter screeched, still sobbing and wiping his tears with Victor’s horrific VALFER drawing that he had taken out of Andrew’s choking grip, which is what he’s doing at the moment.
He glanced at Luca and Richard, the latter inspecting Edgar’s hat with his binoculars. “Wh4t 4r3 y0u d3g3n3r4t3s l00k1ng 4t. Th3r3’s n0th1ng th3re, d0n’t put w31ght 1nt0 wh4t th4t wr3tch3d Fr4nkyd00dl3 s4ys.” He spat out, voice filled with venom. Luca hesitantly shook his head.
“Uhh ;_: Eggy.. U might wanna zee thiz- O_O” Luca leaned forward, much to Edgar’s dismay, and slowly took off his hat, shimmying it left, right, back, and forth till it finally came out with a pop.
Silence fell on them like a blanket, one that is too heavy to breathe under.
Luca didn’t notice the sudden change of atmosphere till he looked up at Edgar; the man was completely bald, aside from his bangs and sideburns. He was bald to the point the fireplace reflected on his head— bald to the point Luca could almost see his reflection on his head.
Richard chewed on his lips, Frederick stifled a giggle, Andrew was choking and Victor was looking for his inhaler. Luca, he snorted.
He snorted, at first, then broke into full on laughter when Edgar kept staring at him with that same stern expression that would usually put him back in place, except he’s bald now.
“Dear God, Velden,” Frederick said, repressing all urge to rub the man’s head to see whether or not it was all a ploy to get him to slip up (as if he hadn’t already.) “If I hadn’t seen you in that stupid hat I would’ve mistaken you for my great grandpa.”
“NAY! My eyes must be deceiving me!” Richard yelled, pulling his freshly sharpened sword from his scabbard. He puts it within his peripheral to ensure his eyes are still intact, nevertheless, the bald head reflects on the metal of his sword, startling him, “Oh dear heavens! Is that a goblin?!”
“N0w, n0w,” Edgar puts Richard’s sword away, “1 kn0w w3’r3 4ll surpr1s3d h3r3, but 1’m sur3 w3’v3 4ll s33n w0rs3,” He slyly points at the choking Andrew before snatching his hat back from Luca and putting it back on again, as if that would change the trajectory of their conversation.
Richard snatches his sword back, “Lord Valden, dost thou lack understanding? Thou art bald. Thou art bald yet thou hast deceived us,” He backed away, clutching his sword close to his chestplate, as if it would betray him if not for the way he held it.
“Christ almighty, I am appalled by your vile behavior! Velden, what on God's green earth could have influenced you into getting such a revolting haircut? Is it your horrible taste? It must be that,” Frederick insults, thankful for his Kreiburg genes. The powder was just a minor drawback, of course. At least his scalp was strong enough to hold up, of course.
“Fr4nkyd00dl3, l1t3r4lly z1p 1t. Y0u’r3 th3 0n3 wh0 burnt my p0nyt41l t0 4 cr1sp! Y0u’r3 fully- w3ll, f1fty p3rc3nt t0 bl4m3!” Edgar gawked.
Frederick groaned. “Oh you absolute fool! Had you had even half a brain you would’ve realized that I was not referring to your weak and pathetic queue. I’m obviously talking about that depilated, glabrous patch lying atop your dome! To be completely, fully, un cent percent honest with you, the manner in which you’re currently presenting yourself makes you look even worse than Johann Sebastian Bach when he took off his periwig, which I hadn’t even known was a possibility!”
“St0p 4ct1ng l1k3 such 4 sm4rt4ss wh3n y0u d0n’t 3v3n kn0w wh4t h4pp3n3d; my sh4mp00 w4s s4b0t4g3d 4nd r3pl4c3d w1th d4rn l4undry d3t3rg3nt!” Edgar fell to his knees and cupped his face, “0bv10usly 1 kn3w s0m3 r3s1d3nts 4t th3 m4n0r w3r3 j34l0us 0f my l0v3ly br0wn m4ne, but 1 n3v3r th0ught s0m30n3 w0uld d0 th1s! 1’m 4 v1ct1m, s0 tr34t m3 l1k3 0n3!” His lip started wobbling, a sign that he was about to have another crying fit so he could guilt trip the others.
Amidst the bald-Edgar debacle, Victor rummaged through drawers, jackets, socks and shoes in search for Andrew’s inhaler, not leaving any nook or cranny behind.
He looked and looked till his eyes landed on something peculiar inside a glinting helmet, a knight’s helmet. Something so, so reminiscent of that of an inhaler.
His feet inched closer and closer whilst the others were busy. He knew very well who that helmet belonged to, who wore it, and whose closet it sat in. He knew because that was the same helmet that would torment him when no one was looking or hearing. The same helmet that would flash under the moonlight of his dimly lit room while only words— degrading ones, would whisper into his ears.
He lifted the metal helmet up, a few clinking sounds escaped it— but the thing, the something would soon come falling down to his feet. He crouches down to pick it up, making his way towards Andrew, wary of the pair of eyes following his every move from a distance.
Andrew thankfully snatched the inhaler off of Victor’s welcoming palms and puts the mouthpiece around his lips, carefully pressing down on the canister and breathing in. Victor slid down to sit next to him, he thought for a moment and grabbed his now torn Kreiburg Racecourse notebook.
He scribbled, erased, scribbled, and erased till he turned the notebook towards Andrew,
‘Found it inside Richard’s helmet.
Weird’
Andrew leaned over slightly, eyes following the words on the note. He looks at Victor then at the very man the note was referring to. The man who is now clutching his sword next to his heart delicately. Andrew looks back at Victor again and just shrugs.
Then Edgar storms out of the room before yelling, “Wh4t3v3r.” Frederick following suit, shutting the door behind him furiously. Luca sweat-dropped at the two aristocrats, sighing as he opens the door, and trudges out with his head down.
The door creaks open one more time, a head creeps in through the gap; Kreacher. “Supper’s ready,” he says, before leaving.
Andrew and Victor sit there in silence, processing everything that had just happened. Richard clasps his hands together, the sound reverberating through the room, making the two other men look at him.
“Oll wright nobiles, shalt we saunter forth to thy great hall?!”
“Yes please…. I’m starving…” Answers Andrew, rubbing his growling tummy while they make their way out of the room.