itbomm

chapter 4: an unnecessary change of plans

Some good and bad news.

The bad news was more or less a confirmation that he truly had no self-preservation skills in comparison to Athy when face to face with their sperm donor. What supports this fact was that he, Athanase de Alger Obelia, outright remembered Garfield after finally noticing that his plush was resting in the empty space next to Claude. Without much thought, he approached his stuffed animal, hugged it, looked up at the man like how he imagines a benevolent shit poster, smiled cheerfully, and said, "Thank you for picking up Mr Mittens, papa!"

Of course, that was ignoring the fact that he can hear Athy screeching at him in the back of his mind for cheerfully doing as he pleased. At that point, he was more preoccupied on whether or not this really was the world of a fanfic and, frankly, didn't care anymore (blame the sugar and ADHD). Claude didn't treat them coldly, nor did he stare at them with piercing contempt as Athan expected him to do.

And, well, it was becoming even more obvious that Claude genuinely didn't care about them.

Claude hated them in the novel, while he was incredibly indifferent to them in the fanfic — something that was never talked about much in the novel. Maybe it was because the original twins were too afraid of him, or maybe it was because they didn't meet his expectations. So if he was in that same fanfic, that had to count for something, didn't it? It was one of several reasons that convinced him that there was still hope for this life.

In Toska, Claude interacted with the twins at the bare minimum after meeting Athanasia when the twins were nine — one of the many differences from the novel in Athy's recollection. Once every two weeks — if they were lucky enough, but once a month at most — they would have tea together for less than an hour. Like it or not, Princess Athanasia was the heir to the throne unless he decided to consider other options, and Prince Athanasios made it clear that he would gladly accede his right to the throne for his sister. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't ignore their existence forever.

So, while it wasn't much, at least Athanase had a pretty good idea on what to expect.

In the fanfic, they began their education shortly after meeting Claude when they were nine, where they would be introduced to their tutors. One of the antagonists of the fanfic was a young girl who was chosen as Athanasia's childhood playmate, due to being the same age. The young girl was the daughter of their dance instructor, but due to having both of her parents as nobles, it led her to being a pompous brat with a superiority complex that made her think she was better than the illegitimate twins.

Once they start their dance lessons, there's a high chance that they'll meet sooner than later. Who knows, maybe when they meet at a younger age than nine, she won't be such a spoiled brat...

Wait, that last part has nothing to do with the whole "good news and bad news" thing.

TL;DR, fuck his impulse control and congrats he finally has more confirmation that he's in a fanfic written by a sadist.

(For the record, the only real good news is that Mr Mittens was successfully retrieved.)

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Felix, the red-haired guard, accompanied them both back to the Ruby Palace. It was rather nice, although the sugar made him feel all the more hyperactive, so he found himself walking beside Felix as he carried Athy.

His hand tug on his cape, "Do guards have to wear capes all the time? Is that the only type of guard uniform the palace knights wear or is it only because you directly serve the royal family?" he rambled out question after question, amused as Felix seemed to struggle with his answers as the man continued to be interrupted by Athan's barrage of questions. "What's your name, by the way? I keep calling you the "mister who tried to take Athy away" in my head, but I don't think that's your name. How strong do you have to be in order to be a knight? What kind of training and quali-qual—" he frowned. 'Fuck, why can't I say it easily? Words are fucking hard, man.'