Julien left the vehicle and stared at the old Rubane castle with a cold silence.
Under the glow of golden hour lay a grand structure perched atop one of the many mountains surrounding the crater that cradled the City of Hope—its placement well suited to overlooking the vast city with a critical lens.
With deep maroon roofing overlaying the tan bricks that absorbed the light of the sun at day and basked in the soft glow of chandeliers and other light fixtures at night, it remained a permanent symbol of trust and longevity for the masses below.
Its splendor was utterly repugnant.
…
He turned away and addressed his guard.
"You once said you didn't want to make me uncomfortable, right?"
Andrew watched him closely, quietly shutting the door behind him as he stepped out of the vehicle himself.
"…Yes."
Julien picked at his cuticles.
"Then… would you stay out here if I asked?"
Andrew opened his mouth, then closed it again.
But that answered Julien's question loud and clear.
"Okay."
He said nothing more as they passed through the front garden and stood before the large double doors buried beneath a grand archway. The echo of their shoes against polished stone heralded their entrance.
Julien turned his head to the cord hanging beside the entrance, paying Andrew no mind even as he continued to throw 'worried' looks his way.
He had no illusions that he could've gotten him to leave anyway. He didn't have the energy to try either.
…
He took a deep breath, shaking off his hesitation and any unnecessary feelings before pulling on the cord and ringing the bell. Refusing to let Andrew see his face, he kept it mostly hidden from view as he spoke just loud enough for him to hear.
"…Don't, say anything."
Andrew looked at him, his brow furrowed and head tilted in a silent question.
"Whatever you see or hear, just don't."
It'll reflect badly on me if you do.
With that final warning left unsaid, the grand double doors opened and the two of them entered the dragon's maw.
—
Dinner always began at sunset in the Rubane household, and while there were a few rules to keep in mind—
First, a prayer.
Julien's grandfather clinked his glass with a spoon, catching everyone's attention in the silent hall.
"I will start us off."
Everyone stood up and solemnly bowed their heads.
"We thank and praise The Mother of the Skies who gave us the patrons of humanity."
And of course, the people repeat.
"We thank and praise The Mother of the Skies who gave us the patrons of humanity."
"We thank the light, for gifting the earth a plentiful harvest, and energy for our systems."
Repeat.
"We praise the night, for calming the never ending rage of the light that guides us, so that we may rest and enjoy the harvest yielded from the sun-kissed earth."
Again.
"In the names of Hathor, Halos, and Miris, the patron gods of humanity, and the earth itself, Gaia, we invoke your blessings as we enjoy your hallowed gifts."
Again.
"Blessed be to this meal."
Julien looked up.
"Blessed be to this meal."
The patriarch smiled and sat down.
"Begin."
Everyone sat down. Starting from the eldest members on the patriarch's right, it cascaded until the youngest on the patriarch's left filled his seat.
Himself.
As he watched the patriarch take a bite of his food, freeing the rest of the hall to do the same, Julien lifted his utensils and began to cut into his steak.
As said before, there were a few very simple rules in the Rubane household:
Don't sit, eat, or leave without permission from the patriarch.
Don't prattle, interrupt, raise your voice, whisper, mumble, or otherwise insult proper diction through your speech.
Speak when spoken to.
Respect your superiors.
Mind your manners.
Be polite.
Julien tapped the table along its edge, pulling a servant over from nearby.
"If you have any digestive medicine on hand, I would like to use it."
And don't initiate conversation before the patriarch.
The servant pulled a small package from his pockets before handing the entire thing over.
"I haven't opened these, sir."
…
Treating lessers as equals was unacceptable, however remaining magnanimous towards them was expected.
"Thank you."
Julien took out a few of the tablets before handing the box back to the servant. The servant looked surprised for a moment before taking them back and returning to the wall.
…
Julien turned away from the fresh face on the wall and lowered his head—ignoring the cold stares from his relatives and the calm one from behind his chair.
Now, where was I?
Subpar performance is unacceptable.
Maintaining your physical appearance is non-negotiable.
And you must cover for your mistakes. Otherwise, the family will take you into their debt.
-Remember, everything you do is a reflection on the family's image.
Keep it pristine.
The final rule was the easiest.
Reneging disciplinary measures is prohibited.
Julien looked at the head of the table.
Just a few, very simple rules.
Though Julien had broken a few before, it was alright.
They were family after all.
All mistakes can be forgiven.
Julien brought a piece of steak to his mouth that felt like rubber, and tasted like cardboard. He avoided the urge to spit it back out.
Delicious.
His grandfather watched him carefully.
"You seem to have forgotten your manners."
Julien stopped just before putting another piece of foulness in his mouth. He lowered his fork.
"I apologize. I haven't been feeling well."
His grandfather leaned forward.
"That's not what I was talking about."
He shifted his gaze to the imposing man stationed behind Julien's chair.
"Why don't you tell me, boy, who is that behind you?"
He made a disgusted face.
"Without even a notice… Don't tell me it's one of those, what do you call them, a catamite? Paramour?"
Julien's father interrupted the old man.
Bad move.
"Father."
The patriarch reached down and squeezed the grip of his cane, a vein practically popping out of his skull.
"Do not speak out of turn, Arwel. You are as much to blame for your children's ill tastes as they are for having them."
The old man gritted his teeth.
"Especially when he seduces every—"
Julien spoke quickly.
"He's my bodyguard."
The patriarch's gaze turned cold as he moved his cane to sit over his lap.
"It'd do well for you to remember, boy, don't interrupt me again."
Julien swallowed the lump forming in his throat and nodded, lowering his head in a semi-bow.
"Yes… grandfather."
Forgiveness, it seemed, would be something he would need to beg for tonight as well.
His grandfather eyed him for a while, causing the already quiet room to falter further before he returned his attention to Arwel like nothing happened.
"A bodyguard… do tell me son, what exactly does he need guarding against?"
He chuckled, lowering his cane to lean back against his chair.
"His incompetence, or yours?"
Arwel glanced at Julien indifferently.
"That is a question for my eldest."
Julien's father lifted his glass as if offering a toast.
"Though if he can't even handle something so insignificant that it hasn't even reached my ears, on his own, I'd say his incompetence is to blame."
The patriarch guffawed, and Julien's various aunts and uncles joined him in false harmony.
It wasn't even funny.
One of Julien's uncles—Uncle Elis chimed in.
"If I may, sir."
"You may."
Elis glared at Arwel from across the table.
"I believe the lowborn can't be blamed for their own incompetence. It's nature."
His eyes flitted about the table, looking for approval amidst the various disapproving faces of his siblings. He swallowed, turning his gaze back towards the head of the table.
"The fault lies elsewhere."
The patriarch waved at him to continue.
"Do tell."
Uncle Elis put on a grave expression.
"Yes, well. I have a few concerns. Julien's dubious origins make him… let's just say Valérie's filthy genes must've been too strong for our Arwel to compete. Are you sure you want him to participate?"
Julien nearly rolled his eyes.
This charade again.
Elis pointed his fork in Arwel's direction, earning a tight frown from the patriarch.
"Manners."
He quickly apologized and lowered his fork, taking out his grievances on his brother.
"Did you ever actually check or did you just take her word for it when she said he was yours?"
Arwel simply continued his meal without answering.
Turning red, Elis shot Julien a dirty look like it was his fault before turning to the patriarch once more.
He was practically licking his vulgar chops with greed.
"Ahem, with that being said, considering how important this initiative is…"
He met the patriarch's increasingly disinterested gaze and motioned towards himself.
"Is there not even one person you think would be better suited to undertake the task?"
Julien internally scoffed.
It wouldn't be you.
His uncle's wife chimed in, lightly tapping her husband's arm as she requested permission to speak.
"Oh I do agree, his brain isn't quite… up to par."
She covered her mouth and let out the fakest sob.
"He really is just the same as his mother. Poor thing."
Julien clenched his fork tighter, gnawing on its metallic edge as though sharpening his thoughts on whetstone.
Useless jealousy.
Arwel rolled his drink around in his glass before finally replying to the previous jabs.
"No child of mine is so incapable as to fail such a simple task. Hasn't his performance already surpassed yours by that age?"
He put his glass down.
"Excuse me, but remind me what you were doing in your grad years again?"
He smiled.
"And with all this talk about the past, need I remind you..?"
He glanced meaningfully at Elis's wife. Elis's face turned purple.
Arwel tapped the table.
"Oh, and how are your kids lately?"
Arwel leaned forward with a kind smile.
"While I am quite certain as to the paternity of my offspring… Well, let's just say yours must resemble a fairly distant ancestor. A blessing I'm sure they thank the gods for every day."
Julien's uncle choked on his wine.
Hearing a few stilted laughs ring out in the hall, the man trembled in red hot anger before glancing at the head and raising a shaky smile of his own.
Julien turned away from the sight.
"Yes, well, it's a blessing given to me by my beautiful and most loyal wife."
Arwel smiled smoothly into his glass, nearly sending Elis into a fit, but one of Julien's other aunts chimed in, redirecting attention.
"Arwel, with your history…" She glanced at Julien. "It's hardly fair to dig up someone else's dirty laundry—"
"Ahem."
The hall became quiet.
Julien's stepmother raised a fan to cover her face as she sent a pointed look their way.
"Do mind the additional company."
Julien's grandfather, whose face had begun to sour, laughed lightheartedly and gave her a warm smile.
"Dear Marie, if only you could've joined our family the moment I laid eyes on you."
Julien couldn't help but think the statement was out of place coming from him.
Wasn't it also you that kicked her out to begin with?
The patriarch waved over a servant to take care of the woman's empty glass.
"Good women like you who follow along so well and can put the past behind them are exceptionally rare."
Marie-Pierre's smile was strained as she lowered her fan to the table.
"Of course."
Julien stared down his cardboard steak.
It was all so fake he felt sick.
Filthy.
His stepmother turned her gaze towards him, a sweet smile on her face.
"That reminds me. Julien dear?"
Julien looked up and met her brown eyes.
Sickening.
But of course, he too was as much a filthy member of this family as the rest of them.
So he smiled.
"Yes Mother?"
"I have something to deliver to Valérie. Do you mind talking to the gardener later? I know how much you love those things."
Those things…
Julien lowered his fork, but his smile never faltered.
"Of course."
Even as he swallowed the poisons they fed him.
—
The rest of the meal was more of the same tasteless barbs—but Julien was no longer paying attention—or at least, he didn't remember any of it.
He was more focused on keeping anger from erupting where it shouldn't.
The prickly stare coming from behind him, watching him, pitying him, different from the rest, drew his attention as well. Mixing his anger with a sense of helplessness.
He hadn't said a word, not one, yet Julien could feel a heavy judgement.
Was it in his head, or was it only to be expected?
Julien took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
The after meal prayer went as follows:
"We thank the gods once more for this pleasant meal, and the great nation we stand on, Raúl, for providing us shelter."
The patriarch stood and went to leave the dining hall.
"You are dismissed."
As the people in the hall began to move—with servants coming to take the plates of those that left—Julien turned his head to see his grandfather staring at him from the doorway.
The man mouthed four words.
'Meet me in my office.'
Then his eyes drifted to Andrew and he added five more.
'Take that thing with you.'
Julien's mouth twitched but he quickly turned it into a strained smile and nodded.
Turning away once he was sure Julien got the message, he left the hall completely. The click of his cane against the floor was loud in his ears.
…
Julien watched as the room grew increasingly quiet.
…
Standing up, he headed towards the doors leading further into the castle as a servant came over and took his plate.
He didn't look at Andrew even once as they left the hall.