After the camp, Raine never talked again.
She helped the maids with laundry, cooking, and everything.
She did not talk to me.
She would not even look me in the eye.
And letters from Illaine piled up.
I did not have the courage to open them without throwing up.
Ella has had a fever for the past week.
The Gods and Fury were all very silent.
Miarale sends me a letter daily.
She was the only one I talked to.
The other kids could not bother, or maybe they were scared.
Lord Lucas Green,
I wish you are doing well, and I'm sure you are not.
Want to go and shop for my brother's birthday with me?
I'm from the March of Noble, the Evans, in case you forgot, which I have a feeling you have.
Anyway, you don't have to bring Raine; she would just be uncomfortable with nobles.
Is she doing well?
Has she spoken?
Hopefully, both of you and your maid feel better.
Sincerely,
Miarale Evans.
There was also candy inside the envelope.
It tasted like lemons.
I wanted to die, but having at least someone to talk to was relieving.
Though I was not sure I wanted to go out.
I was sort of glad there were no men, except the chef, in the house.
When I came back, I could not touch the food he had made.
It made me feel disgusting.
Now I am living on soup and bread.
It's so unfair that I have to live like that while that motherfucker lives like a God.
I closed my eyes, feeling nauseous, fuck him.
I lay on my bed, wondering whether I should go.
I looked at the sky, which seemed farther and farther.
Should I go?
I stand up and go to the dressing table.
I looked at the mirror.
Maybe if I looked manlier, no, no, this, this is not on me.
This will never be on me.
And I need to get out.
I open the drawer.
I take a paper and write.
Miarale,
I don't want to be around any men, so I don't know what I want.
I want to come, but I'm scared.
You decide for me,
Lucas
I had no idea what I was doing, just that I had to do something.
She sent me a letter the next to next day.
Lucas,
Come on next Tuesday.
Love you,
Miarale
I decided to go.
So I went to where Mia was and tugged at her dress.
She smiled and was about to ruffle my hair, but she stopped midway.
"What is it, young master?"
"I want to go to Evans March next Tuesday," I said
"Oh, sure, but the carriage men are…"
"I can drive carriages, my father had taught me his art!" Martha said, and then she smiled at me.
I grinned.
"But you would need knights too…" Mia posed another problem.
"The master is here, maybe we should ask him!" Martha suggested.
"Okay!" Mia said.
She collected the laundry, and I followed her.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Raine, but I ignored her.
I did not know how to face her.
Mia and I went to Father's study and knocked on his door.
His study smelled of old books and polish.
All things considered, he was the only man I was completely comfortable with.
And I don't understand it, but he was less icy and more morning dew.
"Lucas, what do you want?" He asked without looking.
I hid behind Mia, "I want to go to Evans' March."
"When?" He continued writing.
"Next Tuesday," I replied.
"And?"
I paused.
Until he looked at me.
"I don't want any male knights," I said the moment our eyes met.
He sighed.
"Then I will come with you," he said, looking at me.
And it felt like he was looking at me.
Not some ghost behind me.
I nodded and walked away, Mia following.
I grinned when we got out.
And Mia bent to my height, and held out her hand.
I high-fived her.
She laughed, and then I went back to my room.
I felt happy as though I actually were a little kid.
I lay down on my bed and looked at the ceiling till I fell asleep.
When I woke up, I almost screamed.
Raine was sleeping next to me.
I stared at my guilt.
"Do you hate me now?" She spoke, waking up and sitting next to me.
"If I hated you, you would not be here," I said, and almost ruffled her hair.
"You don't like your father, but he is here." She mumbled.
"Damn brat."
I looked at her and she stared back.
Then we laughed.
I'm still not completely comfortable, but I loved her enough to let her cross any of my lines.
And I am sure she felt the same.
At least, I hoped.
We did not talk, but she squeezed my hand and went away.
The next time she talked to me was on Tuesday.
When I was leaving.
A simple bye.
I shouted it back.
And I was happy.
I was happier than I had been in days.
I looked at the hand that I waved at her with.
"Being happy over a maid, that's pathe—not noble-like." My father corrected him, something he never needed to do.
"I don't want to be a bad person," I said. I was actually not afraid of him anymore.
"Nobility is not bad." He mumbled.
"Do you believe that?" I asked.
He did not reply.
It was weird.
Why was he being nice to me all of a sudden?
He was an asshole to me until that dinner.
After that, I had not seen him.
He was barely in the county castle.
But now he is there daily.
"Why are you here?" I asked, I did not feel angry, I just wanted to know.
"Did you catch Ella's fever?" He asked, putting down his book.
"No, I meant, why now?" I continued, "After all this time."
He looked at me.
Then rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"I must have hurt you a lot, right?"
I nodded.
"Your mother said the same thing. Everyone did. My father was like me. So I expected you to be, too." He started, he bit his lip, and he looked at me. "I am an awful person, I don't understand others, not anymore."
"But I realized you weren't like me." He looked at his book, out the window, but then at me, "When I saw you protect that maid, Raine, it made me realize that I did not have to be my father's son, that you are another person."
"And that I had completely wronged you."
I nodded.
"You are my son, I treated you like an object."
I nodded.
"Your hatred of me is more justifiable than that water turns to ice."
I nodded.
"And…I am truly sorry."
"I will probably forgive you, but not till I learn to forgive myself." I looked at his face, and he smiled.
A genuine smile.
"Because you are like me, in the unlikeliest of odds," I said, looking away.
And then we were silent.
Then we would talk.
Then silence.
He would start conversations.
But I learned about my father.
I learned that he dog-ears his books.
That his favorite color was red. (Shocking, I know)
That he loved my mother but did not believe him worth her.
And most of all, I realized, he probably never hated me.
And that made me feel good enough to grin at him.