Butterfly Reign

14. And your feelings, they show on your face

Tommy goes to his wardrobe. He puts on the outfit prepared for him beforehand, trying not to startle his hand too much. The neckerchief is tossed aside immediately; instead, Tommy grabs a tie that's easy to tug on. Smearing the concealer over his face turns out to be the hardest part of them all, but it's not like he had much practice to begin with, and he's satisfied with the result once the bags under his eyes are no longer visible from any side.

Finally, Tommy roams through the shelves and finds a pair of tight gloves. He pulls one over his injured hand. The sleek black fabric hides the swelling, the ink and the newly forming bruises, and the unbreakable Antarctic crown prince is back in his full icy glory. In the dim lightning of a candle on the other side of the room, Tommy's eyes hold a new sort of flickering fire - mayhem and grief and anger blending dull blue irises into blood-red. He has seen a similar gaze on Wilbur's face, just a few hours ago, when he said the words that started this whole mess. It's ironic that the moment Tommy starts hating his brother is the same he resembles him the most.

Tommy doesn't know what will happen now, but Wilbur is not going to leave him alone anymore, and he is done enduring every word and strike. If Wilbur wants to go to war with him - then it's his choice. Tommy will make sure he regrets it.

***

The Special Banquet is to be held in the Blue Sky room, in an entirely different section of the palace to where the rest of the guests will be. Like all major rooms meant for big gatherings, it has a chamber attached meant specifically for the Imperial household: somewhere to share a private word or to take a quick rest during a lengthy evening of diplomatic negotiations. Tommy can't seek comfort and privacy in a place that the rest of his family had access to, but with Wilbur missing from his chambers in the Northern wing, it's his next best guess on where his brother can be.

The person inside greets Tommy with an impatient tap of a foot against the floor, a quirk of an eyebrow and a fox-like tilt of his head. Tommy's heart sinks, until the boy sitting on a low stool leaps to his feet and into brighter lighting.

The illusion of Wilbur's sly smirk twisting the child's mouth is gone. Bouncing on his feet and waving at him from the other side of the room is just Fundy. Tommy feels ridiculous for getting spooked like that. It must be the lack of sleep fueling his imagination, but, blinking away the surprise in his eyes, he still glances at Fundy in a new, careful way.

With how well Tommy gets along with Fundy, it's easy to forget whose son he is. The closer Tommy looks the more similar Fundy seems to how he remembers Wilbur from their shared childhood. He hasn't realized it until now because his brothers were already teens in his earliest memories. Fundy has more baby fat on his cheeks, and his eyes are clear of the swirling fire that Tommy was used to seeing in Wilbur's, but the resemblance is still obvious in everything but the color of his hair.

"Uncle Theseus!" A hand tugs at Tommy's sleeve. Fundy stands in front of him, head thrown back. He looks upset by the lack of response on the crown prince's side. Tommy instinctively moves his injured hand behind his back; kneeling to get them on the same eye level, he gives Fundy an apologetic smile.

"Fundy," he greets. "I do not envy the poor maids that had to get you dressed in this."

Fundy wears a pristine white shirt and a sleeveless surcoat over it, both tailored specifically to fit the child's proportions and ironed into smooth perfection. There are traces of somebody attempting to brush the wild orange of his hair back, but a glare from under wavy bangs and a brush on the floor shows that the efforts were both fruitless and unwelcome.

"Dad said that I have to put on formal attire if I want to attend the Banquet, but if one more person calls me adorable, I'm going to claw their eyes out."