Chapter 23
Rorcan
Somewhere in the distance, bells tolled. Bells that Rorcan knew, came from a tower near the coast. He had flown over the countless bell towers and watch towers of his kingdom and had even heard them so many times that he knew how to tell them apart.
When Rorcan had learned of his brother’s affection towards the actuary, he had not been surprised. Despite what most people believed, he knew his brother quite well, sometimes, he thought, better than himself. And because of this, he knew, the moment he saw the look on his brother’s face as Callyn Alcoff entered the castle doors, his brother was done for.
It was this thought that was on his mind as he flew over Riveria yet again, aiming for the Valdare Mountain. Dusk was setting in, painting the sky a wide range of colors- from streaks of pink that reminded him of blossoming roses to gold that was so like Ryzen’s magic.
He had never been late in four hundred years but as his feet touched solid ground, the wind whipping his midnight hair across his face, the silver wisps of his power fading, he dreaded the amount of preparation he had agreed to help Ryzen with for his big dinner date.
Quelling the urge to go off on his brother, he decided to help the poor guy instead, who, for the first time in his life, appeared nervous. About dinner with a female.
A smile tugged on the corners of Rorcan’s lips as he strode through the corridors of the west section after making sure that everything had been set according to Ryzen’s instructions.
A dinner under the stars. Very romantic. Well done, brother.
“Lord Rorcan, a moment?”
He turned around to meet the eyes of a familiar courtier, Flix Periwinkle, not the most patient of men.
“Yes Lord Periwinkle?”
“I don’t know how to say this but…” he wrung his hands together over his sea blue overcoat, the gesture reminding him of his mother, who constantly did the same when she was nervous. “I have caught wind of a rumor that says… that the Treasury is depleted. Badly.”
Rorcan stiffened. How did he find out? None of the other lords were informed yet.
“And where did you hear this rumor?” he asked with his arms crossed casually behind his back, the picture of aloofness.
Sweat beaded on the short man’s brow. “Just around milord.”
Rorcan didn’t respond. He refused to admit that he was afraid. Afraid that if anyone found out, if the people found out, then his mother would be forcibly removed from the throne. And what was left of their family… it would turn to ash.
“It would do you no good, Lord Periwinkle,” he said, stalking to where the little man stood, his face wary, “to pay heed to such preposterous rumors.” He added enough of a menacing tone that the lord didn’t dare inquire further.
With a quick, fearful nod, Lord Periwinkle disappeared down the corridor.
Sighing, Rorcan smoothed down his navy jacket, the silver embroidered on to the hem shimmering faintly. He would have to talk to his brother soon. And the High Queen.
Seeing as his work was done for the day, Rorcan made a hasty decision, suddenly, him being the nervous one.
His feet took him outside the blue walls of his castle, his footsteps fast-paced on the green grass, the wind atop the Valdare howling at him. Not allowing room for second thoughts, he shot into the cobalt expanse of sky, the glittering silver wisps of his power encasing him, happy to be summoned again.
Deep into the kingdom he flew, his breath coming out a little fast, his heart pounding in his ears. He loved the exhilarating feeling that came with flying. It made his blood sing, his heart dance.
And then he landed, swift and brutal, dirt flying in his wake.
Taking a minute to compose himself, he took confident strides to a big cottage-like house, wisteria growing all around it. The tiny paved path led to the wooden door and as he knocked, he thought of the face he’d find behind it. A small smile graced his lips.
Then the door opened and there she stood, shocked, before a radiant smile spread across her soft features.
“Hello Elva.”
To be continued…
Ofcourse a double date is a double treat after a break 😛