The spirit empowered slap reverberated throughout the open reception hall. Startling birds from their roosts in the eaves up above, and splattering droplets of blood across uneven stone tiles.

The power of the blow left his head spinning, and it was only after taking several drunken steps that he managed to properly steady himself. He could feel blood dribbling from split lips, though wiping it away was, of course, entirely out of the question.

In the same way that lifting his eyes to meet hers, making a sound, or, really, doing anything that could be perceived as insolent behavior, was bound to end very poorly for him.

It was just too bad he’d messed up the timing so badly.

If he’d simply let himself fall with the blow when it landed, instead of taking it full on to the face, he’d likely have avoided what was sure to come next. Simply put, she’d moved far too fast for him to even see it coming, let alone react in time.

Likely just as annoyed as he was by his continued uprighted-ness, his stepmother took two swift steps forward—her ankle length dress swishing with every long-legged stride.

It was a harsh sound.

Grating in the silence that had enveloped the hall. When she raised her well-manicured right hand to deliver yet another devastating blow, the many silver bracelets she wore jingled as if heralding the attack.

“Alindra, that’s enough,” Lord Darius sighed.

Taking no heed of her husband’s words, the look she directed his way told of nothing but cold calculation. Clearly communicating the internal struggle going on just behind those pale blue eyes, as she likely pondered just how much she could reasonably get away with, without losing too much face.

It wasn’t long before she came to the inevitable conclusion that “quite a lot” was the obvious answer, because in the next moment Jun’s head snapped sharply to the left, for the second time in as many seconds.

Thankfully, this time he managed to get the timing right.

“Alindra, I said enough,” hints of exasperation entering his tone now.

Ignoring her husband, she kept her eyes squarely on him. Pinning him to the floor where he now lay, curled in on himself and trying not to move. He did his best at affecting a dazed expression.

In all honesty, it wasn’t a hard thing to manage.

Then, apparently satisfied, and with a final dismissive sniff, she spun on her heel and swished her way towards the raised dais. Halting before the throne where the branch lord reclined, she visibly prepared herself for the next role she’d play in this blatant farce of an assembly.

Now, it wasn’t as if the entire branch was in attendance. There were always things that needed tending to, and not everyone could be spared. That said, it ultimately amounted to small comfort when the audience hall was otherwise packed full to bursting.

Apparently, everyone and their mother was eager to know the outcome. It wasn’t every day that the favored son was returned home a cripple. He wouldn’t be surprised if many in the audience were expecting a summary execution.

“Jun, this is unacceptable. The nerve of this- where does she get off! That’s it, I’m coming out!”

“No!” he hissed—trying and failing to be discreet.

The family members closest to him flinched in surprise, though very soon they were back to glaring with mixed annoyance and contempt.

That was fine. He could live with that. Had lived with it all his life in fact.

Having Ivory pop up out of nowhere, however? He had a feeling that wouldn’t go over quite so well. He was currently in a room filled to the brim with men and women who hunted lesser beasts for sport.

And though Ivory was clearly something extraordinary, so far from the norm, he doubted anyone here would give the nuance so much as a second thought. More interested in what manner of unique beast core she might harbor, than anything related to her strange origins.

“Trust me, I’ve got this handled. Just stay where you are. It’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Ivory grumbled.

“I am not a fan, Jun. I am decidedly not a fan,” she said—her voice muffled by several layers of padded coat. Though, going by the petulance in her tone, Jun could tell she’d given up on doing anything too rash.

His mind soon refocused on the sham of a trial, just as his stepmother was really getting into her role.

“You would show leniency to the boy who nearly killed three of your sons?!”

“If my eyes did not deceive me lady wife, I recall seeing four sons arrive at our estates late last evening. All of them clearly in shock after what they’d survived.”

Alindra laughed derisively.

“Hah! He is as much your son as he is mine, lord husband. It must be said, self-delusion looks less than becoming on you.”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the hall at this last statement. No doubt in response to the thoughts of many being spoken aloud so brazenly. The patriarch’s face lost its bemused expression almost immediately.

“I swore an oath when his mother and I wed. He is as much a son to me now as any of our boys, and you well know this. Pray tell, lady wife, are you insinuating that I do not hold to my word?”

Despite the thick layer of powders, creams, and paints she wore, Alindra’s complexion visibly paled. It appeared as though even she knew she’d gone too far. His stepmother retreated a step.

“N-no, of course not, lord husband,” she stammered. “But that does not change the fact that he put all four of your sons’ lives in jeopardy. And in so doing may very well have endangered the future of this branch as a whole!”

A murmur of assent from the crowd at this. The man hesitated, flicking his eyes from the discontented crowd to his immediate right, and then back at his wife.

“We… don’t know for certain yet if he was the impetus behind their… unfortunate expedition. Or has young Cedric regained consciousness enough to support Caspian’s claims?”

A tone of motherly concern entered Alindra’s voice.

“No. Father Thomas tells me he is stable, but that there are no signs of him regaining consciousness now. Or… in fact… any time soon.”

The crowd echoed her concern, and not a few hateful glares were directed Jun’s way. Not even their lord could hide his unease at the news. Then, just as quickly as the tremor of motherly concern had come, it vanished. And in the next moment that same spiteful conviction had returned.

“In any event, that is entirely beside the point. How could it not have been the fault of that man’s tainted seed?”

Jun flinched at the mention of his father.

“Unlike the boy, all of my sons are talented cultivators—touched by the heaven’s themselves—and I did not raise fools. They would have known that to enter the kings hunting grounds at their stage of development would mean almost certain death. It stands to reason, therefore, that they were persuaded somehow. Perhaps even forced.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“But! You couldn’t have forced anyone to do anything! Can’t they see? You should remind them all how awfully frail you are. If they only knew of your condition, pitiful and sad though it is, then surely they’ll listen and finally see reason.”

“Not. Helping,” he hissed back—ears burning.

From the repeated slaps, of course, and definitely not for any other reason.

The branch lord paused at this, a flicker of uncertainty passing over his face. After another glance directed toward the person sitting on his right, however, his initial air of easy confidence returned.

“Yes, well, be that as it may, I cannot in good conscience condemn the boy without sufficient proof. I would be remiss in my duties as lord of this branch to proclaim judgement on the grounds of rumor and speculation. Without understanding the full context of events first, I’m afraid we can only be patient and wait.”

Jun could practically see the look of incandescent fury on his stepmother’s features. Eyes bulging, nostrils flaring. Jaw clenched so tight that the muscles were starkly visible. It was a face he’d long since learned to fear, or outright avoid if he could help it. Behind closed doors, if her sons were devils, then she was the demonic queen empress incarnate.

“And so, you would pardon him after everything he’s done to my boy?!” she screamed, making nearly everyone in the room flinch.

“I- I did not say that, love,” lord Darius cooed. “Merely that I would refrain from passing judgement until our Cedric awakes.”

Panic tinged her voice.

“And if he doesn’t-!”

“He will.”

The lord spoke with ringing finality—holding his first wife’s gaze until her outburst had lost all its momentum. The woman let her head droop for an instant before, with a shake of her head she swished forward with chin raised high. Taking the seat to the lord’s left, she actively ignored the other woman seated to his right. Just as she’d no doubt been doing ever since this circus was first joined.

His mother.

An elegant swan amidst yellow haired ducklings. She was as much out of place here in this assembly of western nobles as he was. Though, where Jun was universally shunned, his mother remained just out of reach. Black hair intricately tied and bound by long needles; it was evident at a glance she needed no pails full of powder to make her skin appear pristine. Nor copious amounts of paints to give the illusion of elegant bone structure.

Her visage as it always was.

Haughty, regal, and coldly refined. So that she didn’t look down on someone, so much as look straight on through them.

He caught her eye briefly, held it for a moment, then quickly looked away when her only response was an arched brow. As if to say, he’d gotten himself into this mess well enough. It was only proper he get himself out again. Oh, she would do what she could to aid him privately, so long as it wasn’t too much trouble. She simply would not be seen to do so publicly. Not under any circumstances.

It was a sentiment for which he’d become depressingly familiar.

Not born of any malicious intent, he knew. Empathy, or as she liked to call it, “overindulgent behavior,” was simply not something his mother was physically capable of. There was no love lost over it, merely a difference in their relationship most would likely never understand.

Thinking on it, he was reminded of the brief conversation they’d had the night before.

His quarters were just large enough to accommodate his bed, writing desk, and wardrobe respectively, with enough room left over for him to comfortably pace. Bare of all but the absolute necessities, the space was drafty to the point of it being criminal, while the stone floor took sadistic pleasure in sucking all the heat from literally anything it touched. So that, by the time the winter solstice came around, three layers of worn protection became less the norm, and more the bare minimum.

Agitatedly pacing the length of the room—still reeling after the sheer expediency with which they’d placed him under house arrest—he’d made sure to keep an ear out for her arrival. In the end, he hadn’t been forced to wait long.

The solid clunk of an iron key turning in its lock was all the warning he got. And, in the next moment, there was his mother, striding past the standing guard as if the man weren’t even there. Five steps through the door and she came to an abrupt halt, clearly waiting impatiently for the door to be closed. When it was, she finally turned her face to him and spoke.

“Should I be concerned?”

“Look, I can explain-! I… what?”

Out of everything, those were possibly the last words he’d expected to hear.

“It’s as if an evil spirit inhabits this space. Even now I can feel its cold resentment nipping at my heels.”

“Ah… that’d be the draft.”

His mother scoffed.

“Well, be careful you don’t welcome any such visitations with your décor. What my troublesome son calls a bedroom is too dreary to be entirely the domain of the living.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Jun said wryly. “Always meant to spruce the place up a bit, you know, but something always seems to get in the way.”

“Hmm,” she seemed unsatisfied, though didn’t push the matter further.

“Is it true then? What the small frost child claims?”

It was oddly comforting, this quirk of hers.

That even after years of being married to their lord father, she refused to even remotely acknowledge familial ties. To the point that, if pressed, he’d have been shocked in the extreme were she able to point out even a single of their branch relatives by name.

“What?” now it was his turn to scoff. “That I forced them into the forest with nothing but my bare hands? Bound them to a tree, invited all my beast friends over, then sat back, kicked my feet up, and enjoyed the show? I mean, as much as I’d love to say yes on all counts, I’m afraid common sense has a few rather pertinent objections.”

“You know how little I care for cheek.”

“A-apologies mother. But! Surely you see how ridiculous it is to even consider the question?”

“Yes. Yes, of that I’m very well aware.”

There was a flash of something then, a rare twitch on a face normally so impassive. And in her voice as well. It was subtle, yet… could it be…? …disappointment? The idea was so absurd he immediately dismissed it out of hand.

“So, about tomorrow…?” he hedged.

“There will be an assembly. They mean to ascertain the full extent of your culpability, and then sentence you accordingly.”

“But I didn’t do anything-!”

“No. No you did not,” she paused. “Do not worry however, child of mine. Everything has already been seen to. You will not be punished for the mistakes of others. Well, not by much at any rate.”

“So, I… what? Just waltz in there and keep my head down? All business as usual?”

“If you insist.”

Again, there was that strange flicker of emotion.

“Right,” a knot of tension he hadn’t even known he’d been carrying loosened. “That sounds like a plan-” but before he’d even finished, his mother was already halfway to the door.

With one hand on the door handle, however, she suddenly paused. She looked back.

“Son. Tell me the truth. Did anything of note happen whilst you were sampling that man’s hunting grounds. Anything you haven’t seen fit to share?”

Her eyes bore into him, and in that moment, he couldn’t have explained why he deemed it necessary to lie to her. Only that the thought of revealing the existence of Ivory, currently huddling within the rooms only wardrobe, elicited a keen sense of danger.

“No. Nothing. It was utterly pointless, and, quite frankly, terrifying. But, besides the obvious, nothing exceptional comes to mind.”

Her eyes lingered on his for a moment longer, searching, before she eventually turned and exited the room. He refrained from releasing a sigh of relief, as, with her hearing, it was likely she’d have noticed. And in the end, so intent was he on the possible threat to his new companion, that the thought she might have been referring to something else entirely never even crossed his mind.

Bringing himself back to the present, he managed to catch the tail end of his once trial.

“That settled,” said the branch lord. “While I still have you all here, there are a few things our council of elders' feel the need to address. Lord Rupert, if you will?”

With a nod from the lord, Lord Rupert, an old, fragile man, shuffled his way to the front of the dais and faced the already disinterested crowd. Unrolling a lengthy scroll so that its end bounced against the tile, Lord Rupert began to read in a dry, monotonous tone.

“As most of you will be well aware, at this point in time, the east wing is in desperate need of repairs. A select few have reported leakages, coming primarily from the second story toiletries, resulting in some minor flooding during the spring and summer months. Of course that’s when certain facilities, such as the baths, piping, and the like, etc etc are used with far more frequency, on average than…”

Jaw throbbing in time with his elevated heart rate, Jun staggered to his feet with as much dignity as he could manage. Trying, and failing, to make his way from the hall as inconspicuously as possible, he felt the presence of eyes on his back the entire time. When he finally reached the end of the hall, and his presence was summarily ignored by all, Ivory’s soft voice reached him from the front collar of his coat.

“Jun?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I like your home very much.”

“Yeah. It kind of sucks doesn’t it?”

“Worse than those unruly letters and all my brothers and sisters combined. Must we stay?”

At this, Jun actually grinned.

“Actually, about that. After such a warm welcome, think they’ll notice our absence for the next little while?”

“I don’t think they’d care one way or another if we never came back at all. Which is something I very much think we should do, by the way.”

Jun winced a bit at how close the comment hit to, well, home, but he tried to take it all in stride. Now wasn’t the time to brood, after all. Now was the time to get back to work. After all, with this distraction out of the way, business called, and he’d be damned if he didn’t answer.

“How about I take you on a tour of my city instead?”