The scent of pastry cream and fried bread lingers heavy in the air of the dining room this morning. The scent clashes with the bustling noises of scattered servants, each one rushing to their designated stations and criss-crossing around one another. This is the first that December has seen of anyone who isn't a close friend or family to the king, the sight of butlers and handmaidens jarring in comparison to the faces he's become accustomed to seeing.
They stand behind the first family sat at the table, a slab of intricately carved quartz that's polished clear as glass, the marbled floor visible from within the crystal. For a world so gaudy and bright, the servants are clad in a shadowy black, the women concealed by thick veils that brush against their waistline. Each woman grips a golden jug in their gloved hands. Their bodies lined against the wall except the few who bring their jugs to the royal family, the burgundy liquid hidden behind opaque chalices and vases.
"Good morning!" Pipes a breathy voice, tone high and enthusiastic as the room's attention turns to Wren gathered in the arched doorway. "Good morning, Uncle Sasha." The boy smiles as he approaches the solemn vampire at the head of the table, arms wrapping around him from behind before planting a kiss on his cheek.
His demeanor is one of pure light, a blaze that rivals the sun that beats through the ceiling length windows at the edge of the room. He's still clad in his sheer robes, a teapot blue that drags along the floor behind him and swirls around each of his thin legs. It's the first robe he's worn that isn't plain gossamer, the trimming adorned with embroidered flowers of white and violet with a sparkling material sewn into the hems of the sleeves. Each sleeve glimmers in the sunlight as he crosses the quartz table, arms falling around his eldest aunt in the same manner as before.
"Good morning to you too, Aunt Stasia."
"Anastasia." She corrects through the first sincere smile to grace her lips, arm coming up to pull her nephew closer before showering him in kisses. "I'm glad to see you wearing something with a bit of style this morning. Purity robes don't have to be boring, regardless of what your uncle tells you." She snickers, words struggling to wade through her thick accent.
Wren takes his seat beside her as a waiter comes forward with a golden jug before being stilled with a simple raise of the hand. A veiled woman seems to whisper something indistinguishable into the waiter's ear, his body perking slightly before slipping away into another room.
"Did you sleep well, December? You're usually not awake early enough for breakfast." Wren smiles, head cocking slightly as he pulls at a curl.
So we're pretending that didn't happen... that Wren didn't nearly kill himself from an overdose last night. That he didn't fall asleep curled in December's chest, pulling his arms tight around December with his face nestled in the human's neck. Pretending like December didn't creep out of his bedroom mere moments before this breakfast started, narrowly avoiding Sasha as he tip toed to his own bedroom down the hall.
Pretending that Wren wasn't straddled in the brunette's grip, that his moans aren't currently echoing within December's mind amongst sounds of clattering dishes and breakfast chatter.
Pretending that December doesn't know what his skin feels like under those sheer robes. The taste of his bloody lips and touch of his hands clawing against burning skin as he begged to draw him closer.
The feel of Wren's body rocking against his own reminiscent of something more than just a midnight feeding.
"U-um yes," December coughs into his hand, expelling his thoughts with the force of the action. "I slept fine. I just didn't have as much work as usual so I was able to come down this morning."
Wren merely cocks his head with a liar's smile before turning to accept a ceramic cup from a veiled handmaiden. "Well that's good!" He perks up, taking a long sip from the speckled mug. "I'm happy to hear you're working well with Celeste. Her sister was my predecessor's High Priestess, so she's like a member of the family to us."
"You seem more chipper than usual this morning." Especially for someone who nearly died twelve hours ago...
The fae's smile falters slightly, a small sigh escaping his lips before they're sealed by the rim of his cup. "For the first time since being taken I actually slept well last night. I think I'm happy because this is the most I've felt like myself since that happened..." He trails off, dark eyes gazing into the contents of his speckled cup.
He picks away at one of the many centerpieces littered across the table, fingers rolling the leaves wrapped around bunches of white candles and red berries. The fae doesn't speak, gaze distant as it dances with the flame of the candle sat before him. A few moments pass before he sits up with a smile, eyes blinking away troubled thoughts before holding the speckled cup to his cheek with a cheshire grin.
"Or maybe the coffee is just really good today!"
•••
"You missed breakfast this morning." December states offhandedly, taking a seat on the cream couch of the drawing room.
Ryder lets out an exaggerated sigh before closing the book in his hands, it's spine ripped and void of any moniker as he sets it beside himself. "You've missed every breakfast since we got here, I think it's okay if I miss just one."
The morning has already settled into afternoon, the days of this realm always seeming to end too soon. December hasn't spoken to his cousin since the memory retrieval, the day Ryder turned his back to him and spoke those three little words.
I hate you.
"Wow," December feigns shock, chin resting on his thumb with a playful smile. "so that is what Ryder's voice sounds like. It's been a while since I've heard it, I think I might've forgotten."
The younger cousin can't help but smile at his joke, dark eyes rolling as he stands from his seat across the drawing room. "Fine," he laughs, taking a seat next to December on the cream colored couch. "Wren yelled at me already anyways. Apparently, 'if I'm not mad, you don't get to be mad either'." He quotes with his fingers, eyes subtly rolling as he props his elbow on the back of the couch. "So I'm sorry, and I don't hate you I guess."
"You guess?" December laughs, playfully hitting his cousin against the shoulder. "What do you mean 'I guess'?"
"I just..." Ryder falls silent, fingers tracing a nearby table carved of rose quartz. He fumbles with the white roses adorning the table, rolling the petals between each finger just as Wren had. "seeing all of that... being trapped in those memories and not being able to do anything. Knowing I was there when it actually happened and I didn't even know..." He can't face December, dark eyes downcast as they focus on his trivial task. "It's in the past though so..." Ryder inhales through gritted teeth before turning to face his cousin, eyes scanning December's features before breaking into a short laugh. "Sorry, I haven't been getting much sleep these days."
Upon further examination, his restlessness does show through. He's given away by how his brown eyes gloss over before rapidly blinking themselves awake. Only further accentuated by how he props himself against the couch with a yawn, rubbing at the bags that have settled beneath his eyes.
December can't help himself, hand reaching out to his cousin before his mind can protest his actions. He brushes back the boy's unruly black locks, rubbing away the sleep in the corner of his eye with a soft smile. "Was it a vision? I don't actually think I've gotten to hear about any of them, not since we were kids at least."
Ryder lets out a tired laugh, hand rubbing at his eyes filled with memories of times long past. Times before the Wednesday captures, before blockers and operations and the threats of Haven. Back when Jenn was just Aunt Jenn and white walls had no meaning. When dreams filled with forests and gemstones were merely that, the overactive imagination of a child who had been read one too many books before bed.
"I have no idea what it is." He shakes his head, forehead falling to rest in the cup of his palm. "Neither does Elchanan or the rest of the Priestly Order. It's not like any visions I've ever had, usually I just see the scene as it plays out but this time it's just cryptic scenes that make no sense."
Though he hides it well, December can still sense the fear that seeps from deep within Ryder. He's never been good with the unknown, his visions the one sense of security he's carried with him all his life. Yet now even that has began to falter, his sense of peace dissolving into the ominous feeling that something is coming, and this time he has no help or warning to get through it.
"Well, tell me about it. I've always been pretty good at puzzles."
Ryder only nods, eyes shutting as he begins his story. "I'm in this room, right, but I'm choking, I can't breathe like the room is full of smoke from a fire. I'm gasping for breath and trying to get away from the smoke and flames and then a door appears." He squints his closed eyes, nails digging into the cream couch as he continues with a deep breath. "I open the door, and I'm in this huge room covered in red flowers and as I walk forward a noose drops down from the ceiling.
"Then all of a sudden there's tons of them just dropping from the ceiling in bunches so I try to run away but I trip into this huge pool of water. It's like the ocean and I'm falling and falling until I drop into another room." His shoulders rise with every breath he takes to steady himself, head shaking slightly at his own retelling. "The nooses have gone, but in front of me is four glass chalices filled with blood, but one of them is empty. As I go to grab the empty chalice the three filled with blood fall over and the glass breaks.
"I start to pick up the glass when I hear a noise from behind me, like this horrible growl or cry or something." He shakes his head in confusion, black hair slashing across his cheek before he rapidly brushes it away. "I turn around and it's a dog, but they have this stone tied in their mouth like a muzzle and when I try to help it it runs. I chase the dog but can't catch up to it until it goes outside and just sits down and starts howling at the moon.
"I look up at the sky but everything is dark, nothing is there and there's nothing around me anymore but the night. Then I wake up." Ryder finally opens his eyes, fear drenched in each deep brown orb as he shakes his head one last time for good measure. "I have no idea what it means but it's the exact same dream every night."
December rubs away his own shock, hand awkwardly tugging at the back of his neck as he tries to come up with a solution. "I was expecting more of a logic puzzle and less of a Pharaoh's dream situation." He awkwardly laughs before he grabs his cousin's hands in his own, a seriousness washing over him with the movement. "It may not be seven cows or seven ears of grain," he states, thumb grazing the surface of Ryder's hands clasped tight in his own. "but if the end is the same, Ryder I'll be there for you."
The two boys never glance at one another, stares locked on their intertwined hands held between them. It's a gesture that hasn't been felt in years, their touch foreign to one another after being apart for so long. It's a touch December refuses to forget again, hand squeezing his cousin's as if to engrave this feeling not in his mind, but in his heart and his soul.
"I'll always be there for you."