The patriarch's office was a grand thing. Forest green walls, alloy furniture projected with the appearance and texture of rich calypso, golden dragons cresting the peaks of pillars and the trim of the fireplace, and right behind the old man's busy desk—above even him—was the national flag.
The man was nothing if not patriotic.
Julien stood by the door and greeted his elder.
"Grandfather."
The patriarch, standing opposite the fireplace, was crouched over a pool table, aiming a shot at a striped ball.
"Wait for me."
The man hit the white ball into the striped one, sending the ball ricocheting off the side and into the farthest hole.
Krack!
Julien ignored the game happening beside him and moved to stand in front of the man's desk. Meanwhile, Andrew entered after him and shut the door, positioning himself between it and a marble display pedestal as he settled in.
His eyes remained glued to Julien as if not willing to miss a single one of his movements.
Julien glanced at him before turning away. He shut his eyes.
At least I'm not alone.
Though he almost thought it'd be better if he was.
Soon, the game came to an end as the 8 ball rolled into the hole, causing the table to reset itself in a blink. The patriarch looked in Julien's direction, pointing to another cue with his own.
"Join me, child."
Julien picked up the stick and watched the old man send the white ball barrelling into the triangle, breaking the rack and sending a solid straight into the cornermost hole.
He took another shot, spreading the balls out further before taking a step back.
"How are your grades?"
Julien lined up his shot, there wasn't a lot he could maneuver with the white ball's current position. He furrowed his brows.
"I'm in the 97th percentile for my department."
A subpar result.
He took his shot, accidentally knocking a solid in with one of the stripes.
Damnit.
The old man grunted and took aim. Julien had practically set him up for the next shot.
"What happened?"
He hit the ball, sending a solid into the nearby hole. Julien watched the man readjust his grip and he shifted away.
"I was… ill-prepared."
The patriarch hit another ball into a hole, then another, before sending the white ball into the third.
He handed the ball to Julien and placed his cue on Julien's foot.
"You were distracted."
Julien tried to move his foot, but the man pressed down harder. Julien hurriedly looked over at Andrew, shaking his head slightly.
Don't move.
Andrew's stare grew more intense, his brow lowering dangerously, but he didn't do anything.
The patriarch grabbed Julien's face and forcibly turned it towards the table.
"Aim."
Julien placed the white ball on the table.
"You've heard about the RCRI, correct?"
The Raúl Collaborative Research Initiative… Julien took aim, ignoring the throbbing of his trapped foot.
"Only that I'm participating."
He launched the white ball, perfectly knocking a striped into the leftmost hole.
His grandfather hummed and watched Julien take aim again.
"Depending on how you do… Ah, how is Valérie faring lately?"
Julien hit the ball again, sending the 8 ball ricocheting into the bottom right hole. The whole table reset.
He exhaled.
Endure.
Julien straightened and looked over at his grandfather.
"What do you need me to do?"
The old man released Julien's foot. Chuckling, he threw a look at Andrew.
"You'll know what to do once you get there. Training and debriefing begins in March, I'll send someone for you."
Julien glanced at Andrew as well.
So it's something he can't hear.
The patriarch patted Julien's face.
"There was a lot to clean up because of you."
The patting became less and less gentle.
"Make a good contribution and your debt will be repaid."
As if.
He felt his grip on the cue tighten.
The patriarch raised his hand as if to strike him, but Julien only frowned. Neither flinching, nor closing his eyes.
Crash!
Julien felt a pit form in his stomach, but he didn't dare look at the other end of the room. All he could do was hope he didn't do anything stupid.
Andrew's glare was intense as he bent over to pick up the pieces of a fallen vase.
But he still didn't say anything, at least not with his words.
Good.
The patriarch lowered his hand slightly and gripped Julien on the shoulder, pulling him down to his level.
"You have a good mutt."
Julien's eyes shook, unsure of what to say, but he had to say something.
"I—"
His grandfather took Julien's cue and hung it on the wall.
"You are dismissed."
Julien's eyes darted between his grandfather and Andrew, but he didn't linger.
"Yes sir."
He hurriedly left the room, barely registering that Andrew had opened the door.
Damnit.
Julien took several deep breaths as he rushed through the hall, calming his rapid heart rate into a slow, steady rhythm. His footsteps eventually followed suit.
…Damnit.
He moved to sit on the stairs at the end of the hall. Leaning against the wall, he swallowed the lump in his throat and watched a few of his relatives argue below the stairs.
He couldn't hear what they were saying or read the movements of their mouths, but he watched them anyway until a servant boy came over and took them away.
…
Julien addressed his silent companion who stood against the wall behind him.
"…They're going to bill you for that vase."
Julien shifted around, placing one leg on the lower step while leaning against his other knee. He stared up at the man beside him.
"You can speak now, but you can't ask me anything."
The man parted his lips for a moment, then closed them again.
Instead, he nodded as if to say it was okay… or that he expected it.
"…"
Julien lowered his eyes, fiddling with the ends of his fingers.
"…I lied. They'll send the bill to Theia since you're…"
Her 'property.'
…
Julien stood up and turned away, heading down the stairs.
"…We can leave after I speak to the gardener."
—
Julien led Andrew outside, and soon, the two found themselves in the back garden.
It was one of the only things Julien ever liked about this place.
The garden was just one corner of a wider collective of confusing and familiar botany, and if he had to compare how it felt to walk through it… he felt like Alice chasing the white rabbit into the twisted yet magical land of wonder.
Well, the 'rabbit' was no longer here.
Julien walked through the garden slowly, bending over to sniff a few flowers on occasion, or to brush his hand across the hedges.
It was less suffocating here.
Over the course of their 'journey,' they would run into a few members of the staff, and Julien would engage in a brief conversation with them. A shadow fell over his face after a whispered conversation with the groundskeeper.
…I see.
Ignoring the growing ache in his chest, he continued down the maze-like paths, admiring aging statues and throwing his only coin into a familiar golden fountain. Soon, he stopped in front of a path of pink and white flowers growing on a wall of hedged shrubs on the outskirts, just before the front gate.
He lightly traced their leaves, their petals, their stems—then he closed his eyes.
This garden would lose its magic soon, much like it lost its 'rabbits.'
"…I wonder what you know…"
Hiding the tremor of his hands in the brush, he continued his musings.
"I'm sure even you didn't know this corner was my… my Mother's favorite part of the castle."
Though whether she actually liked it here or simply wanted a quiet corner to cry… he couldn't know.
Pricking his finger on a protruding thorn, blood formed a single droplet at the edge of his finger. Andrew came closer to get him to stop touching them, but Julien raised his hand to stop him.
"They're called dotted hawethornes, she always said they reminded her of home."
He finally turned back to look at Andrew and gave him a sad smile.
"They're quite lovely, aren't they?"
He doesn't need to know this.
Then again, he wasn't really speaking to him.
Andrew slowly nodded his head and approached the flowers as well, appreciating them from a polite distance.
"They are."
Julien lowered his eyes and took his hand off the flowers, smearing the red droplet across his healed finger.
"The groundskeeper tells me they'll be replaced soon, hydrangeas. So he said."
Julien scoffed.
"The current madam doesn't like the thorns."
He gave the flowers one last look before tugging on Andrew's sleeve.
"Take me back."