Long Live

II

Finneas

The servant dressing me was taking her sweet time. She was an older Mortal, who had been caring for me since I was born. My mother had named her Bettie, since it was close to her own name of Beatrice.

"I wanted her to remind you of me, to comfort you with her presence," Mother had told me once I was old enough to understand. As her oldest son, she had once admitted she felt closer to me than the other two. She was more drawn to caring for me and protecting me than my brothers. This did not mean that she set aside her duties as the Lady of the Soil, however, it just meant that I was given a servant that cared for me as my mother would if she had given herself the time.

My brothers had many different servants throughout their years of growing up. Sometimes they shared an attendant, and other times they were helped by different Mortals. Joel's current lackey was actually not a Mortal, but rather a retired Timeless merchant that happened to owe my family an absurd amount of money. Technically a Timeless servant should last longer than a Mortal, since they do not age past fifty and cannot die of natural causes, but this was not always the case. Oftentimes, a Timeless servant did not only owe my family, but also other wealthy families. The royal family needed to be careful with their decisions, but that did not stop other broods from killing those that showed no signs of paying them back.

The button-down that Bettie was buttoning me into was irritating my skin to the point of a constant itch. I looked down to ensure that my chest was not turning red due to a topical poison. It was not unlike servants to try to hurt the ones in charge of them. After she finished buttoning the shirt, I sat down on the bed and she hooked the freshly ironed pants around the ankles. I stood again and they were lifted over my legs and secured at my waist with the zipper, button and a leather belt. The royal family was not to dress themselves. They were not to bathe themselves either. The woodsy smell that emanated from my hair was strong enough that even when I was not paying attention I could still smell it. Bettie always overdid the scents, not caring about my sensitive skin. I closed my eyes and pretended not to notice her fingers trembling as she fastened the vest over my chest. She was getting on in age, and it was a rare sight when she was actually holding still.

After far too much cologne was sprayed all over me, I was able to leave the room. I cleared my throat as I shut the door to my room behind me. The rooms that my brothers and I had at the Haven's castle were not nearly as nice or personalized as the ones we held residence in while in the Soil. The room that I was staying in at my grandparents' castle was boring, with everything in a light beige tone. My grandmother, Queen Cinder, would describe it as "chic," but I would describe it as "mind-numbing." Once in the hallway, I was greeted with the rich tones of the mahogany floors and molding, as well as the bright red shade of the wallpaper. The servants had recently redone the walls in the hallways, that was something Queen Cinder had been happy to tell us about while we were eating dinner a few nights ago.

Joel was already standing in the hallway when I reached it, tightening his tie. I held back a grimace, knowing how upset our mother would be if she saw him fussing with his own outfit. He looked up at me with his eyes slightly widened.

"How did you get away with not wearing a tie?" He whined when he spoke, something I always hated about his mannerisms. While sometimes it was possible to ignore, his voice was like nails on a chalkboard when he was upset.

"Mother thinks I look better without one. I need no enhancements." I grinned. Joel threw a soft punch at my shoulder.

Drake, the youngest of the Vale boys, finally joined us in the hallway. He had the darkest hair out of all of us, and it was slicked back with gel. He also wore no tie, but he had a suit jacket rather than a vest. It appeared he had convinced our mother to let him keep the beard she hated after all, though it seemed to be trimmed. He wiped his hands on his trousers and looked over at Joel and I.