Stolen Path

5|| Crypts and Caverns

-Zauriel-

Prince Casper's bedroom was not too dissimilar to his brother's. Lavish drapes of silk – this time a lighter shade of blue – hung from the canopy of an oversized four poster bed, waxed hardwood floors and delicate (probably hand painted) wallpaper gave the room an airy, artistic feel that the Crown Prince's more cosy room seemed to lack. Zauriel supposed that the two north facing windows in this room helped in that respect – 'painter's light' or something along those lines. She wasn't much of an artist and, from the scattered notes all over the prince's desk, she could safely assume that his own interests leaned more towards the pen than the brush. The room also lacked the sense of order that the older prince's one had perfected; to put it politely, Casper's room was unashamedly lived in.

Stepping across the threshold, Zauriel noted the cushions and blanket on the left-hand windowsill. A reading nook! Beside the informal seat, a bookshelf stood holding an arrange of extremely well-loved hard back books. Unlike in his brother's room, the fireplace lay empty with not a speck of ash or dust in the grate. How a hearth should be in the middle of Drimon.

"Welcome to my humble abode." Casper bobbed up onto the balls of his feet in a way that compensated for lack of excitement as he spoke. He had had the air of being rather chuffed with himself the entire day, yet as he approached his own bedroom, the mask had started to slip.

"It's a shame the weather's so bad." Loti glanced out of the windows as they spoke, "It must be nice in here in summer."

And yet, you accuse me of being socially uncouth, Loti Peryn Zephyr of Avonton.

The prince swallowed and cleared his throat. By The Twins, that boy liked clearing his throat, "The soft light makes a nice change in warmer months, yes."

Their conversation was cut short by a long knock at the door. An immensely repetitive tapping quickly turned into a loud, monotonous thumping then escalated into rhythmic banging. At last, the intruder gave up and simply opened the door.

"Ha!" Callum pointed at his younger brother, "I knew you were in here." He leaned against the door frame and scanned the room before folding his arms and raising his eyebrows, "Storms coming." His golden curls bounced as he nodded towards the mess of black clouds outside.

Casper's lips pursed into what was almost a sneer, "So?"

"Wild hunt." The older prince's blue eyes glittered with excitement at the idea. Although it was just an old story, Zauriel couldn't help but share a bit of his enthusiasm. Just the thought of what lay beneath the castle and during a storm, when the veil between godless spirits and the living grows thin... it made her skin crawl with anticipation.

Casper set his jaw, "I have friends here, as you can, evidently, see," he gestured towards the two of them. Zauriel considered bowing but settled on a curt nod, "so I'd rather not,"

"They can come too. I'm just about to go bully Cad into coming so it's not like it's just us." Callum's demeanour was unusually nonchalant. If they hadn't been in the Barrow Castle, Zauriel could have easily mistaken him for a wayward son of a member of the lower gentry.

"Come where?" Zauriel couldn't help herself. Despite standing, she felt as though she was on the edge of her seat.

"The crypt. Obviously." With that, Callum Aelfred David of Grachester turned on his heel and walked down the hall. Although the flair for drama was admirable, he could have at least closed the door.

Casper blinked sharply and smiled sweetly to prevent his eyes from rolling in irritation. Fickle things siblings – or so Zauriel had heard.

*