"Forgive me?" Tristan said with a confused voice, not understanding the disgust in the Prince's eyes. The heat that he suspected finally became tangible as a warm flush overcame him, making his skin itch. From above, he felt Annabell dive down towards him and land on his head, spreading her wings in a threat towards the Prince.
From behind Elias, Tristan saw a pair of fiery wings slowly forming, curling around the young Prince. The majesty that came from them felt ancient, the orange flame, with flickers of white, seeming able to burn anything. Tristan gulped and slowly stood up. Looking around, he saw Mabel continuing to drink calmly, unbothered by the entire affair, as the King's guard stood watch, not turning, seemingly unaware of what was happening.
'Did I try to reach too high?' Tristan asked himself, holding his gaze with Elias, only able to swallow the evaporating saliva that remained in his mouth. "It's so unsettling." Around him, Annabella's power spread, countering the warmth of Elias's flames, but it wasn't enough, as his skin slowly felt like it was melting from within.
Elias rose with dignity, his eyes flashing with an orange light, "A mere princeling daring to look at me with such a disgusting gaze." Elias stepped forward, his fiery wings burning brighter. There was a pride in that fire that seemed to look down on the world, as if it wished to burn everything and reforge the ashes it left behind into something more suited towards it.
"My Prince." Tristan did the only thing he could think of and fell to his knees. Resting one hand over his leg, he placed the other on his heart and took rapid, deep breaths, each one as if he breathed in the fires of hell itself. Even with the pain and discomfort he was in, Tristan refused to show it until the very end, as he clenched his teeth in anger.
'I just want to survive. I don't give a fuck about your throne.' Screaming in his mind, he didn't dare look up, once again, humbling himself as he always did. 'God, I hate this family.' Telling himself he took deep breaths through his nose and looked up once Elias stood before him, the snapping of flames before him. Hiding his hateful glare behind a thin, polite smile, he spoke, "I do not understand what I have done to offend you."
Mabel burst into laughter, looking at Tristan, wondering how, even through everything, the suppressed rage and pain he must have been in, he was still able to bring himself to be subservient. His words shocked Elias for a second as he took a step back with a stunned look. Annabell was the only one who acted the same, still flapping her wings towards Elias in rage, but not daring to attack, knowing it could make things worse for Tristan.
Elais watched Tristan for a few more seconds, and slowly the heat retreated as his wings disintegrated into smoke, returning to his body. Kneeling down, Elias stared deep into Tristan's eyes. Tristan read every emotion in them. Hatred, disgust, anger, loathing. Yet all of them weren't directed towards him, only using him as a source he could replace, who it was truly meant for.
"What is it you want, Princeling?" Elias said each word slowly, meaning. "You already refuse my drink and yet act like my most loyal retainer."
"I never refused your drink, Your Highness," Tristan said with fake calm. Elias smiled and patted his cheek before resting a hand on his shoulder.
"My sister overloaded the tea with sugar so it is all you can taste, Princeling. Only the smell didn't change." Elias smiled, gripping Tristan's shoulder until it felt like it would break. "Please do not lie. It is unbeffiting of our family."
'I've been played.' Chuckling to himself, Tristan looked at Elais. Unlike Mabel, for whom he dropped his act to get closer, he knew he had to do it with Elias for a simpler reason. 'He hates it past a point of suspicion. As he already said, it's disgusting.' Tristan met Elias's eyes and dropped the perfectly crafted smile, revealing a blank look he always wore when walking around the Palace. It was a look no one could remember or read.
Elias finally smiled and let go of Tristan, standing up and retaking his seat. Grabbing his tea, he poured it out on the floor, no longer having to drink the horrid drink and grabbed a leather pouch hanging from his waist, taking a sip of its contents and spitting it on the floor. After taking a real drink, he leaned forward and lazily leaned on his hand, waiting for Tristan to come back to him.
Out of habit, Tristan nearly wore his fake half smile again, but stopped it and slowly walked forward, taking a seat. Elias looked at the man his age and felt strange. Instead of a person, it felt more like he sat before a crowd that could only react.
'He can perfectly walk around the court, but.' Elias paused his own thoughts and stared into Tristan's gaze, which looked both empty and bright. 'He hardly feels like a person. More like a painting.' Elias's eyes widened in shock at his conclusion. So far, Tristan had felt like Brandon, always performing, always watching, always finding the right words to worm his way through a conversation.
But now, he noticed a different gaze, one he saw all around the Palace. 'Like a painting on a wall. A real person, but not there.' It was disgusting in its own way but confirmed what he feared most and needed to know: 'Unless he is the greatest actor in the world, such a person would have no desire for the throne.'
Elais didn't banish that former thought, instead keeping it in the back of his mind, but his gaze did change. "Now that you wish to be honest, cousin, what do you want? No actually. What can you do for me?" Elais' index finger bounced on his temple as he waited.
Tristan stared into the gaze before looking at Mabel and finally down at his hands. "What do you need?"
"This is not how this works, cousin." Elias replied, "I don't need anything from you. You are the one who approached my sister. You are the one who followed me here. You are the one who has to sell yourself. I just need to know why I should pay." Elias said every word coldly, in a slow, confident voice, the arrogance in his words unchecked.
Tristan clenched his fists under the table and smiled, a force of habit he couldn't control. Although it made Elias frown, the prince said nothing. Tristan thought for a moment and wondered what he could say. As he thought about it, he realised he had nothing. Maybe his friendship with Hank could entice the Prince, but it was a weak card that Elias likely didn't need.
Looking down at the cup of teas he took a deep breath. 'Nothing I could say could entice Elias; he already shows he hates me for no reason.' His mind spun, but seeing Elias getting impatient, he knew he was running out of time. 'There's only that. I already gambled with Mabel, I have to do it again.'
"My only goal is to survive your highness." Tristan placed his hand on his chest in a fake curtsy and lowered his head. Peeking up from his bowed position, he met Elai's gaze, "If you do not provide this for me. Then isn't it only right I look for... other options."
Like a volcano, pressure erupted from the two as Annabell screeched into the air, expanding her wings, staring at the two with a menacing glare. "I wouldn't do that." Tristan said, hiding his nervousness, "Annabell, fly to the Chancellor's room. The moment our connection is cut, tell him I am dead and why." Tristan quickly ordered. Annabell didn't hesitate and flew off, completely trusting Tristan.
He knew from Annabell that the moment a summoner died, the summon would linger for a few minutes if it was already outside the body, before returning to where it came from. The pressure intensified as the heat was let loose, unrestrained. The pressure from Mable crushed his shoulders as he was forced deeper into his bow.
"Are you threatening me, Tristan?" Elias said with a murderous tone.
"Many knew we came here, your highness." Tristan forced the words out before the heat and pressure made him unable. "I'm sure the chancellor would love to use a murder against the two of you. Kinslaying no less." Tristan's words cut through like a sharp knife, making the two assaults vanish in an instant.
Elias watched Tristan grinding his teeth for a moment before smiling, "Interesting. Very interesting." Elias fixed his appearance and looked at Mabel. Tristan followed his gaze and saw the princess looking at him with an interested but angry look.
"Your Highness." Tristan slowly rose, finally sure he would keep his neck, "I don't understand why my awsner angered you. I would have simply left and gotten married to a Lord's daughter."
Mabel burst into laughter, remembering the answer she had gotten from Tristan before. It was such a cowardly answer, but just enough to hide what he really meant. Elias didn't laugh; instead, he held his glare.
'A scheming rat.' Telling himself, Elias clicked his tongue, 'But as my sister said, I will need people like this.' It would always be a relationship kept at arm's length, but Tristan made his intention clear. So long as he was protected, he would be loyal. Once that protection was threatened, he would run. 'Letting him run off to Brandon would be dangerous, however. We can deal with one of them but not two.' He knew better than to chase away a beast he could tame.
"I will be in touch," Elias said before getting up, Mabel swiftly following behind.
----------------
Sitting at his desk, working through the towering documents with haste, Brandon's pen stopped. From the wall, he saw an eye open, from a chameleon which blended in with the wall's colours. "You're being watched."
Brandon's right eye, through his monocle, looked out the window and saw the white dove flying around. To anyone normal, it would look natural, but he knew better. 'There are no doves in the Birdkeepers control, especially one intelligent enough to watch me.'
The chameleon's eyes closed after giving its a warning, continuing to keep silent guard over its summoner. 'Anton placed someone on me already. No to obvious for the likes of him. A third faction is forming?' Leaning back and lifting the document to read it, he twirled the pen in his hand to hide that he was thinking about soemthing else. 'No brother's reputation should keep them at bay a little longer. I need more information.'
Tapping his pen on the table in a rhythmic pattern, he peeked towards the chameleon, who blinked in a different rhythmic pattern. It was a form of communication that the two have maintained for years to bypass listening ears. Even if someone could tell what they were doing, it was impossible to decipher without having prior knowledge of what it meant.
'Have you ever seen a dove in court?' Brandon asked with his taps.
'Once. Sat before the sunlight.' The chameleon blinked in reply. Brandon went to tap again, but stopped seeing his summon blink once more. 'I smelt three birds in the throne room during the coronation.'
That was enough for him. Putting the document back down, Brandon fiddled with his monocle, returning to the pile of paper.