What It Means To Be King

Chapter 62: And Then There Were None

I listed all the small arcs I mentioned in Chapter 56, and those piled up to 23. Some of them will not be in detail and from now on the concept of time may be unrealistic. Beware. Do not question any plotholes you see, I am but a human. 

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Shao Long fiddled with the golden card in his fingers when Evan was done explaining everything to the rest of the princes. When silence engulfed the room, with no one speaking out, Shao Long had to bite the inside of his cheek to hold himself back from screaming, yelling, demanding him to let it all out of their hearts, all the insults, the mock, the "karma is a bitch and so are you," or whatnot, he knew that would've been their first thought. He didn't personally know all the princes, much less Alex, but he knew enough to understand that none of them were on good terms, not even with Felix. He knew the sound of his name alone would bring them to their grimaces, knew that his presence made them uneasy, and when he spoke up, they looked at him as if expecting trash to spill out of his mouth. That much, he understood. Even if Alex, sweet sweet Alex had a heart like no other, even he held grudges. Even he knew how to feel hate. 

But they didn't say anything, so Shao Long looked up from the card he was holding, expecting to see sneers and eye rolls from any of them. Really, anyone! Especially Ciel, and perhaps Albert as well, not that it was undeserved. He expected Charles to sigh, to pinch his temples, frustrated for bringing him trouble even unintentionally. He expected Alex to look at him in pity and give him a half-assed offer to look out. He expected Felix to play with his hair like Evan hadn't just dropped a bomb in the middle of the room. 

He saw none of those. 

He saw....

Well, Shao Long has always been good at reading people. He was good at guessing people's identities, and sometimes the deeper meanings behind their body language. He had predicted that Leo would be a good doctor, and Anubis to be an Arabian royalty. He knew bits and pieces of the princes' friendship from watching them interact with one another. Could tell further, deeper and the untold, unknown dynamics of their relationship. He has always been able to tell. 

But the expressions they were making didn't show the things he had expected at all. There were no sneers, no mocking snickers, no glares, no frustration, irritation, judgement, none of that. Evan had just told them that Shao Long's family, the richest family in China, richer than all of them, the one kid who had terrorized their lives, barging in like an unwelcomed storm, was facing the worst bankruptcy ever recorded in human history, faced with not only assassination attempts but also political concerns from all over the country, pushing them down and down and down until it seemed that only a miracle could get them back to where they were today. And the princes had looked....remorseful? 

Shao Long pinched the edge of the card,  trying not to crumple the whole thing into a ball. 

What was...

Why weren't they laughing at him? Why weren't they mocking him? Why weren't they whispering among themselves, why were they looking at each other with that look in their eyes that Shao Long could not read, could not understand, as if a whole conversation had just went through somewhere there and he just couldn't—