Long Live

VI

Finneas

Now back in the Soil, my family and I sat in the most intimate dining room in the castle. This was an affair that happened regularly throughout mine and my brother's childhood, though this time our positions had changed. Whereas the ends of the table were taken by each of my parents while I was growing up, now I occupied the head and my father took the other side. Former King and Queen Caesar and Cinder were absent from this dinner, with Caesar having left a note that they were going on a trip throughout the Timeless lands to ensure that the women I had chosen were brought back without issue. For my grandparents, I was incredibly grateful.

It had been an hour of silence since the Vale clan had sat down at the table. My mother swirled the red wine around in her glass, occasionally her sniffles could be heard over the low breathing sounds that the group made. The servants had delivered food already, but any heat that had been residing on the plates was long gone. None of us had touched our food, the uncomfortable silence filling even Joel, the glutton of the family. I had given up hope that someone would talk or make some sort of noise. Anyone that could draw me away from my own thoughts. The idea of the trials and the women I had picked were ravaging my mind. The uncertainty of it all wracked my brain.

Another fifteen minutes passed, and finally there was a stirring in the nearest hallway. Tiny footsteps ramped down the hallway, while a voice called after them.

"Stefan!" The voice's owner was clearly trying to stay quiet as they ran past the door. "Get back here!"

Maybe no one else at the table would have, but I recognized that voice and those footsteps. Bettie's heels clicked as she tried to catch up to her only child, whom she had adopted from another servant upon their death during labor. The boy giggled and ran in the opposite direction, passing his mother now. I knew that Mortals were not above disciplining their children with violence the way that Timeless tried to avoid, and I cringed at the thought of the young child being struck with the cane that Bettie sometimes carried on days that her Mortal hips were aching too much to bear walking unassisted. There was a time that I had feared she would use that cane on me, just before I realized our differences not only in bloodline, but also in ability. I became incredibly strong and fast at a very young age, and could easily overpower her well before I would have reached Stefan's age.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, I stood from the table and sauntered into the hallway as nonchalantly as possible—something Caesar had told me was that the King needed to be calm in all circumstances, even in those that involved discipline. I shoved the rosewood door open and entered the hallway to discover it empty. I followed the sound of the clicking of Bettie's heels as she frantically rushed after her son, as well as his incessant giggling. It took only a few moments before I had caught up. I took in the sight of her silvery-blonde hair, tucked neatly into a bun at the back of her head, though a few strands had fallen in front of her forehead. She did indeed have the cane at her side, supporting her weak legs despite the short leather heels on her feet. When I was younger, it had never occurred to me that Bettie was much smaller than me, but once I reached adulthood I could see the difference clearly. It was not common for Timeless to be well over seven feet tall by the time they reached their teenage years, and rare for Mortals to reach that height. At twenty-two years of age, I was standing at seven feet, six inches, and my servant was well into her fifties and only about five feet, three inches. Her pale skin contrasted against the dark burgundy wool of the sweater she had worn my entire life, rarely going a day without it.

"King Finneas, my Lord, I do apologize for my boy. He appears to be full of energy this evening." Bettie sighed and looked to my feet as I reached her side. She did not look me in the eye often.

"No worries, Bettie. And please, do call me Finneas. I am not King yet." I whistled at the blonde boy and hailed him over. "Do return to your room and stop causing such a ruckus in my castle, or I will see to it that your mother's cane is not the only punishment you endure." I winked as he wandered off toward the servant barracks.

"Please do not punish him, my Lord. I beg of you." Bettie made to get on her knees, but I grabbed her shoulder before she could reach the ground.

"I only jest, I promise. Your boy is safe from me and mine." I smiled at her and patted the bun on the back of her head, a soft, plump little ball of fur that begged to be grabbed. I pulled my hand away and placed it back at my side, regaining my posture. As I turned to head back to the dining room, I chuckled. "You have my permission to sedate Stefan, if you deem necessary."

"I do not think that would be necessary. I believe he is scared enough." Bettie, upon realizing that I was joking, placed her fists on her hips. "Have a good supper, my Lord."

"As good as my family will allow," I shrugged.

Upon reaching the dining room, I found that my family had left already without my knowledge. So much for listening to the new King, I thought. Having lost any appetite I had, I made my way back up to my quarters and waited for Bettie to arrive to bathe me. It took another hour before my door opened and the old woman stepped in. Her bun had been fixed and her sweater's sleeves were now pulled up to her elbows. She entered the washroom without a word and began to draw a bath. I remained seated on the edge of my bed until she came back.

"The bath is ready, my Lord." She gestured into the washroom and we entered.

I sat on a stool as she removed my shoes, then stood for her to remove the pants and undergarments that I wore. Finally, she unbuttoned my vest and button down, taking them off simultaneously. I was not nude often, only to bathe, and never in front of a female other than Bettie or my mother, but I was not uncomfortable. I climbed into the bath and lowered myself down into the scalding water. The heat made me hiss as I gripped the sides of the tub. Bettie knew I favored lukewarm water, yet she always made me a hot bath in order to avoid it being cold by the end. Part of me was grateful, another part of me felt like my skin was peeling off as it turned bright red.

After Bettie was done scrubbing my skin raw, she drained the tub and dried my skin with a thick white towel. I always needed a white towel, because I was convinced I was bleeding by the end of my baths. Finally dry, I was dressed in loose gray trousers and a soft button-down in the same color. Once at my bed, I was greeted by the steaming tea on the table by the head of my mattress. A cautious sip led me to find that the tea was chamomile. I smiled softly at Bettie and waved her off. I sat in bed, reading the book I had not been able to finish due to the coronation and my journey afterwards, until I finished my tea. Yawning, I turned the lamp off and laid my head on the pillow.