"A well meaning idiot."
What a way to describe one's own father.
Accurate, but ultimately surprising to hear from Cale.
Whether it was before they'd been able to comprehend their memories or afterwards, Cale had always been the one who held the most affection for Deruth Henituse. It was a distribution of affection that made perfect sense in retrospect.
Cale had two lifetimes worth of memories with Deruth as a father and plenty of memories of him actually being a father to him that his siblings simply didn't have. He had seen and experienced just how good a father that Deruth could be at his best.
Penelope had so many issues with the concept of a family, especially father's and brother's, that any individual hoping to fit themselves inside of her heart in any of those roles would have to work exceptionally hard and be legitimately wonderful. Deruth was, frankly speaking, a flawed man and an inexperienced father who hadn't been up to that challenge.
Roksu similarly had issues with father figures but mostly had learned not to trust people easily until they'd given him a reason to trust them. Deruth had not done very much for the triplets since the day they were born. While they never wanted for material items, they had never experienced the warmth of parenthood.
Everything put into appropriate consideration, Cale would obviously hold more affection for the Count than his two siblings. And he had. Cale in his short second life had always sought out Deruth's attentions and affections and always took it the worst when Deruth didn't come through. He really loved his father and it impacted the way he thought and behaved.
Penelope and Rosku had actually privately developed the opinion that Cale was rather biased in favor of their father and struggled to see his flaws.
That was why it was so startling to hear Cale make such a statement, a look of frustration on his young frace as he ran a hand through his hair in a way that somehow managed to convey the meaning fuck, I need a drink without actually saying it.
Cale could be rather expressive like that.
Cale continued his criticism. "My father, our father, doesn't know how to cope well with grief or loss. Obviously. He also thinks that the best solution to any problem is to throw money at it."
Roksu could appreciate an ideology like that. It had certainly been advantageous to increasing his own riches while under the care of the Henituse family, specifically Deruth. Still, he could see the flaws in it as well.
"He's a doofus, using my mothers words, and his awkward inability to communicate his feelings generally leads to him appearing to be uncaring. He has the social awareness of mutt and the political mindedness of a goldfish. He's good at earning, saving, and spending money and so he relies on those three skills to get him through essentially all of his problems in life. When there's a problem that cannot or should not be solved with money, he becomes confused and withdrawn." Cale sighed. "In short, a well-meaning idiot."
Penelope, who had been listening to the entire spiel with a certain level of cathartic amusement, paused at a peculiar statement within.
She almost questioned it before she thought better of it and snapped her mouth closed.
My mother.
She shared a look with Roksu to check if he'd caught the implication as well.
For the triplets, 'mother' had never been an existence in their life. She'd died upon giving birth to them. Aside from christening them with their names, she was a nonentity.
It was a bit strange for Cale to talk as though he'd spoken with her before.
Unless Jour Henituse hadn't died giving birth during Cale's original lifetime.
The knowledge of the stark difference between Jour's initial experience giving birth and her current one was as obvious as Penelope's own existence.
She failed to catch Roksu's eyes but she felt certainty drape upon her the more she thought about it.
Triplets were difficult. Even with modern medicine it could be tricky to make sure that all three children and the mother escaped the experience unscathed. There were simply more risks involved.
Penelope hadn't spared a lot of thought for her dearly departed mother in this lifetime. Jour had died giving birth to them. She was apparently a likable woman according to what Penelope had heard from the students and she was much beloved by her husband.
Penelope simply hadn't felt any connection to her.
Perhaps it was because Cha Siyeon already had her own issues with a mother and it was difficult to attach new issues in a new life when she didn't even have a frame of reference for Jour Henituse other than gave birth to me I guess.
The strongest feelings that Penelope had about Jour during her life were also related to Cale. She'd noticed the way he left the countess' spot empty during meals and the way he would attach himself to whatever belongings that Jour had left behind far more than herself and Roksu.
She'd just judged Cale to be a bit more soppy and emotional than she was.
The sinking feeling inside of her grew as she fully conceptualized why Cale acted that way.
Jour Henituse wasn't an unfamiliar stranger who happened to offer him a womb and granted him life.
Jour had been his mother.
She had lived after childbirth.
Cale knew her. Cale had loved her. Cale missed her.
And Penelope's very birth had very likely been the thing that stole her from him.
She swallowed thickly as the thought crystallized inside of her.
She had never cared much for the narrative of blaming a child for the loss of a parent in childbirth. The few individuals who dared to peddle such a narrative within Penelope's hearing range she held with contempt.
Penelope had also never cared if it was true with regards to Deruth.
She'd certainly thought about it before. Does he dislike us because Jour died? And she'd always thought that if that was indeed the case, she was glad that she didn't get any of Deruth's attention or love because she wanted nothing to do with such a pathetic excuse for a father.
...but the idea that she'd stolen Cale's mother...
The knowledge that it wasn't just a hypothetical but a reality that her existence killed that woman and that had cost Cale, someone who she loved and treasured dearly, the opportunity to be with his mother...
Penelope felt sick.
The nausea washed over her all at once and sucked all the air from the room. She felt dizzy. She wanted to empty her guts right there.
Cale was still berating his father as casual as anything and she was scared that if she breathed, she might vomit from the noxious taste of wretched guilt.
I killed Cale's mom.
Her pupils shook as she looked at her brother. Her kind and patient brother who never allowed her to feel miserable or lonely for long. Who healed the parts of her heart that she couldn't even accept were broken.
Does he know?
He had to know. It would have been more obvious to him than anyone else in existence. Cale would be the only person who would be able to properly acknowledge that Jour was missing from his life. He was the one in the best position to really know how her fate had been twisted.
The cause of her death.
"Penelope?"
Penelope was shocked out of her spiraling thoughts by Cale's hand on her shoulder. His concerned face only inches from her own.
She swallowed shakily.
"I'm fine."
She couldn't say anything. Cale hadn't. If he didn't know, she didn't want him to know. Penelope had been so resistant to the concept of having brothers for her entire short life and now that there was the prospect of one of them growing to hate her, she couldn't cope with it.
Guilt gnawed inside of her wretchedly and she tried to compose herself properly.
"Hey..." Cale's face knit with worry and she knew she was failing. Fucking up when it was most important to maintain her composure. "It's okay. I'm here."
Penelope swallowed thickly, unable to pull away when Cale pulled her into a hug that she didn't deserve.
He couldn't know.
How could he still be so good to her even knowing she was the direct cause for his mothers death? She knew what family meant to Cale. She saw the way he lingered near portraits of his mother... how much he loved his father...
The rain stormed inside of her own mind.
"Hey."
She blinked, realizing she was struggling to breathe a little too late.
"I'm here, okay? It's okay, Penny. I'm here."
She felt another hand on her opposite shoulder and looked at Roksu.
It was a horrible thing.
She was a dreadful person.
But she couldn't regret it. She was glad she was born here. She loved her brothers. She wanted a happy life. She wanted to live. She wanted to finally achieve some form of meager peace. She wanted to have this happiness.
Given the choice between herself and Cale's mother, she would choose herself.
She knew that made her a horrible person.
She knew it was wrong to be so selfish.
Penelope was ready to be a villain if it meant holding onto this happiness. She wasn't so selfless as to sacrifice her life for the happiness of another person. She was a practical person who knew that life wasn't fair and she was tired of being on the losing end of it.
But when that put the losing person as Cale it became impossible to grapple with. To cope with.
Would she lose it all the moment he figured out that he could have had a happy family if she hadn't ever been born.
The shadow of panic overtook her thoughts and muffled the sounds of their voices. She closed her eyes and tried to let go of the crushing doubts. Tried to find reason. She could hear them, barely, through the fog of cascading thoughts that crashed into her like hail.
Penelope opened her eyes.
Cale looked even more worried and she felt wretched for making him upset on top of everything else.
She looked at Roksu and it hit her like a ton of bricks.
She wasn't alone in her 'crime'.
Could it even be considered a crime?
She didn't know. She hadn't meant to. She wasn't responsible for choosing this. She wanted to live but she'd never asked to be born here and never wanted to steal some poor woman's life. Never wanted to steal away Cale's mother.
It grounded her to see Roksu.
If a single person were to lay the crime of murdering their mother at his feet, she would find that despicable. Disgusting. She found it to be a despicable accusation to lay at her own feet as well. She wasn't illogical enough to blame a baby for being born and anyone with any sense shouldn't think something so meaninglessly horrible.
It was just that it was Cale.
Anyone else but her brothers and her thoughts wouldn't be so clouded.
If Cale blamed her, she wouldn't be able to say a word in self defense. He was right. She was at fault for stealing her life. And without her existence, Cale would have a mother.
However that would mean Roksu never having been born as well.
She clenched her fists at her side.
Penelope could accept that she was the villain. She couldn't accept that Roksu was one as well. All the miserably thoughts coalesced until her head pounded.
But she was finally calm enough to hear their voices again.
"Talk to me, Penny... what's wrong?"
She couldn't tell him. She shouldn't tell him. What if he hated her? What if she lost her precious brother?
What if she had to endure being hated by her family again?
The words spilled out of her lips without asking for consent.
"...your mother..."
Cale tensed. Penelope closed her eyes. How could she say it? Why did she say it? Did she want to relive her horrible past? Did she wa–
Warm arms held her close in a crushing hug.
"It's not your fault."
His voice was rough and thick. Full of emotions she couldn't begin to name or imagine.
"Listen to me, Penelope. I don't blame you. She wouldn't want that either. She wasn't that sort of person." Cale held his trembling sister as close as he dared, he'd seen the guilt in her eyes and the thoughts consuming her crushed him. "Don't think like that. She loved you, I'm sure about that."
It was a ridiculous thing to say about a woman who had never actually met Penelope but Cale knew his mother.
Jour would have never wanted her daughter to hurt like this. She would have loved all her children. If given the choice between her life and theirs, he knew what choice she would have made.
She made it in his lifetime as well.
He felt Penelope's trembling begin to subside and made eye contact with Roksu.
His brother's face was carefully blank. Too blank.
"You too." He said with a sigh and held out an arm for Roksu to join the hug.
Sometimes it was a pain being an older brother. Such silly younger siblings who didn't have any idea how much he cared about them. He would really need to teach them better.
"Don't you dare think anything of the like. It would be an insult to her memory."
Roksu hesitated but obediently let Cale hug him, the trio indulging in a childish expression of pain shared three ways.
It was a lie to say that Cale didn't hurt to lose those precious years with his mother. If she hadn't been taken away from him at such a horribly young age, maybe he could have done something. Maybe she would still be here. Maybe he could see his mother grow old and have her see the man that he would become.
He missed her.
However his pain over losing his mother was entirely unrelated towards his feelings towards his siblings.
He wanted them both.
Cale was a greedy man at heart. Even if he'd manage to keep his mother alive and spend more time with her, he still wouldn't want to let go of his step family either. The idea of losing Violan, Bassen, and Lilly was just as upsetting to him as her loss.
Perhaps it was because he had already lost them all. In the worst and most brutal ways, he'd lost them and watched their flesh burn away as wyverns feasted on their flesh.
Cale didn't want to lose any of his family.
In his ideal world, he had two mothers, four siblings, and one doofus of a father.
Cale knew he didn't live in an ideal world.
He suspected that there wasn't a world where he would be allowed to live with his mother. Or if there was, it would probably come at some horrific convoluted cost that would tear him away from everyone else that he loved to balance out the scales.
He couldn't say that he wouldn't accept such a twisted deal if he was offered it but not at the cost of their lives.
Trading the life of one loved one for another was incomprehensible to Cale Henituse. He loved and he wanted to be with those he loved.
And if he had to fight the ground itself to keep those people at his side, he'd stamp his feet until the damn world submitted to his will.
He was a stubborn and greedy man.
But he was also realistic.
The fact was that his mother was dead. She'd died giving birth to two unexpected entities who'd entered their lives. If she had the opportunity to know Roksu and Penelope, he was sure that she would have loved them just as much as he did.
She was dead and his siblings never asked for that. He knew that.
So if his composure slowly dissolved amidst the hug and he broke into tears, it wasn't because he resented his siblings or because he couldn't accept the current state of things.
It just hurt.
His mother was gone and that would always hurt.
Roksu and Penelope held him close and he knew that he could let his feet leave the ground, just for the moment.
The ground was his only companion and his only friend but sometimes people could lift him up and sometimes he could put his weight on them instead.
"...I'm sorry." Penelope said, low and awkward when Cale had finally begun to calm down. He shook his head with a roguish grin.
"I think I probably needed that, honestly." He let out a laugh. "Sometimes I forget that this body is more prone to emotional displays."
It was bullshit and they knew it was bullshit. Cale probably would have wept like a child even if he was a forty-four year old man as outwardly as he was inwardly. There were some injuries that never fully healed and never stopped spreading poison from the heart and throughout the veins until the target vomited the poisonous pain into broken sobs.
They let it slide without comment though. The unspoken rule for the trio was a general forgiveness and lack of judgment for the childishness that came with being a 'child', even if none of them acted very much like children.
"Wanna hear about her?" Cale said in a tone that didn't convey just how badly he wanted to talk to someone about his mother. He took a seat on their couch and poured a cup of tea with all the energy of a seasoned alcoholic pouring a glass of whiskey.
Roksu and Penelope shared a quiet look before sitting at his sides, accepting his scandalously poured drinks and adding sugar at their leisure to the lukewarm drinks.
"Yeah." Roksu said, he definitely didn't look like a child that wanted to hear any of it but that was just Roksu all over. "Was she as dumb as father?"
Cale let out a barking laugh at the insult. "Hardly. Although, I will say she had a whimsical side to her that could lack in some forethought. Really, if you want someone who thinks things out thoroughly, that would be Violan."
"Violan?" Penelope asked curiously, the only one of the three who didn't know about the eventual step-family to come.
"Ah, my step mom." Cale explained, he gave Penelope a quirked smile that lightened up the mood in the room, even though it was tinted with sadness. "My mother died when I was eight."
"...ah..." Penelope looked down at her lap. "I'm sorry."
He waved off the apology. "Don't worry about it. Shit happens." He gave her shoulder a friendly pat. "She... well, that's a story for another time." He wasn't ready to talk about it. "Point is, our mom was a bit of a character. She had this terrible habit of pinching my cheeks and calling me cutie. You two were spared from some sore cheeks is all I'm saying."
Our mom was a notable shift. Penelope wasn't sure how she felt about being included as her offspring, all things considered, but that was the truth and it was also what was comforting Cale's heart.
So the three poured tea and talked about Deruth and Jour Henituse, a well-meaning doofus and his whimsical wife. It wasn't all comfortable or happy but it was better to talk about it then to hold it in.
Penelope thought that maybe, if she'd had the opportunity, she wouldn't have minded calling Jour mom. Although Deruth was still a laughably incompetent parent in her opinion. She simply wasn't as forgiving and compassionate as her brothers.
That was okay though. It meant that she could handle some of the issues that required less compassion for the two unthinkingly kind fools.
Penelope didn't grow attached to anyone very easily. It was a long and arduous task to gain her approval for anything at all. She didn't give pity passes to those who she felt fell beneath her standards and she refused to lower her head to bastards unless it was absolutely necessary to preserve her own life.
She was a stubborn and vicious person who built strong walls around herself that she so rarely let anyone come inside of.
So once someone had successfully wormed their way into her heart, she turned all of her significant energy into protecting those people. She didn't love easily but she loved ardently.
The person who had caused either Cale or Roksu to suffer would certainly face her rather significant wrath.
It was good for all of them that they had finally returned to the territory though. The estate in the capital wasn't unpleasant to stay at but the underlying anxiety of remaining so far away from home in a relatively unfamiliar place was a bit stressful for the trio who had only recently recovered their sense of self.
Familiarity was far more welcome than the unfamiliar servants and the miscellaneous stresses of the capital.
Of course ever since the incident with Penelope's disappearance, Deruth had become an increasing presence in their life. Which had led to the triplets, or at least two of them, to feel an awkward tension over the issue.
There was nothing quite like remembering you were a fully grown adult in a four year olds body only to have your previously neglectful father suddenly smother you in attention that you neither needed nor wanted.
Thus the necessity of their current conversation. Cale wasn't really making an effort to defend Deruth. He was more than aware of his fathers short-comings. But he felt that it was only fair to at least provide some explanation for the other side.
Perhaps he wanted to defend his father just a little bit.
Deruth tried, he really did, he just had a terrible habit of focusing his efforts in the wrong areas and expanding all of his energy on that rather than just communicating with the other party.
Luckily the Penelope issue was currently keeping Deruth busy so the three of them had some reprieve. The ducal family was demanding an apology for the unfortunate incident in the city square. For all of Deruth's flaws as a father, he always took the side of his children above all others.
Even if maybe his children weren't entirely in the right.
Cale still appreciated it. He didn't mind apologizing to the snotty brat who had menaced Penelope during their short meeting. After all, he and Roksu were already planning more effective methods of payback for the incident than that randomly thrown punch. It might not have been entirely the brats fault but the facts were that Penelope had been menaced and such a thing wasn't so easily forgotten.
The truth was that all three of them were vicious.
There was a gentle knock on the door that heralded the presence of their loyal butler who had doubtlessly noticed something odd about his three charges. Roksu felt somewhat justified in his ongoing unease with Ron Molran now that he knew for sure that the man was a vicious assassin. He also felt a strange discontent with the fact that Ron left with Choi Han at the beginning of the novel.
It was an easy enough scene to dismiss on the face of it when Cale was just a random rich lout who lost a servant to the protagonist after getting a justified beating.
It was a completely different matter when he knew Cale, knew how much Cale cared about Ron, and he couldn't help but wonder just how Cale must have felt when Ron left with the vicious punk who beat him half to death.
Honestly, Roksu's entire perception of that scene had shifted quite a bit.
It wasn't that he thought the reprehensible words that Cale had spoken were acceptable. They were inexcusable insults to a grieving man about his lost family. Roksu could viscerally understand Choi Han's anger after all of the loss that he'd experienced in his own lifetime.
If someone had said something similarly revolting about team leader or Choi Jung Soo so shortly after their passing... Roksu really wasn't sure how he would have responded.
Still, there were a few factors that bothered Cale about it. While Cale's words were despicable, responding by beating him half to death was excessive in the extreme. When he put into consideration that Cale was only eighteen at the time and Choi Han was older than Ron.
It left a bad taste in his mouth.
Perhaps it was the bias that had developed naturally after growing up with Cale but the more he thought about it, the more he couldn't defend Choi Han's actions at the time. He knew from reading the novels that Choi Han was a pure hearted man who truly cared about the people around him and that he was amidst the worst trauma of his long life when Cale had called his dead loved ones worthless. He knew that Cale was a crazy bastard for persisting in saying so even after he got beaten half to death by Choi Han.
He knew it wasn't as cut and dry as one party being in the wrong. Frankly speaking, they were both wrong. Choi Han was a crazy violent bastard for violently assaulting someone so much younger than him for their drunken insults. And Cale was undoubtedly a stubborn and crazy idiot for provoking Choi Han.
A mixture for disaster.
All the same, that really didn't shift his opinion of Choi Han all that much. Roksu had always thought that Choi Han seemed like a bit of a vicious punk. He was pure hearted but he was also more than willing to fight, maim, or kill anyone who he considered an enemy.
Ron on the other hand.
It was strange to consider. Ron clearly cared about Cale. The two were undoubtedly close, for as close as anyone could be to a vicious assassin, so why would Ron happily skip off into the sunset with the very person who nearly crippled Cale without a word?
It just left a bad taste in his mouth.
"A letter has arrived." Ron informed them upon his entry, a benign smile in place as he held out three envelopes with matching crests adorning them. "For all three of you."
Penelope raised her eyebrow at the sight but Cale was the one to point out the obvious. "From the royal family?"
"It appears that you all made quite the impression on the first prince." Ron said smoothly, an intrigued look on his face as he observed the three.
'Vicious old man.' Roksu thought as he accepted his letter and gave it a quizzical look. With everything that had occurred while they were in the capital, it was easy for their visit to the palace to be momentarily forgotten. Especially when the much more memorable event of Cale collapsing occurred while they were there.
Their meeting with first prince Alver Crossman, the future crown prince of the kingdom, had just seemed rather inconsequential in comparison.
Cale was the first to open his letter, sitting back down with the nonchalance and grace of a nobleman as he read the contents. "...hm." He hummed thoughtfully, glancing up after a moment to look at his siblings. "...you aren't gonna read yours?"
"Why would he send us letters?" Penelope asked, clearly overthinking it as she gave the letter a critical look. Roksu didn't say as much but he was clearly thinking much the same.
"Because he's a political asshole." Cale said with a laughing shrug. "It's not that complicated. We're the beloved children of the wealthy Count Henituse, he has aspirations to wear the crown someday, you guys really need to get used to people attempting to develop political relationships with you. You're nobility, that's pretty much all the socializing you'll experience."
It was sort of funny how Roksu and Penelope worried about the potential ulterior motives of the prince while Cale was so calm purely because of his confidence that the prince definitely had ulterior motives.
Different perspectives that came from different lifetimes.
Cale was just used to being considered as a potential political asset or liability before any other considerations about his personality or personal worth. Cale would actually find it far more alarming if he received a completely genuine and sincere offering from friendship without a single string attached.
The mere idea made him itchy.
Cale found the entire situation a bit novel. He'd met Alver Crossman a few times as Cale Henituse and a few more times as Cale Thames. His overall impression of the man was that he was about as fake as they came, sharp as a knife, and unquestionably capable.
Seeing the cute and relatively innocent version of Alver after meeting the war-hardened and haggard King Alver was an amusing experience upon reflection.
The letter assured him that it was the very same man that he'd met before though.
The delicate penmanship that ill suited a nine year old cordially requested an ongoing correspondence with Cale in order to foster friendship and develop positive relations and blah blah blah. Cale was sure that both Penelope's and Roksu's said something similar. There were some cute references to the games they'd played together at the palace but the cynic in Cale could only view it as a thinly veiled attempt to add the veneer of innocence to what was otherwise a transparent attempt from the prince to win the favor of the famously neutral Henituse family.
Cale thought the effort was cute, although he didn't have any strong intentions of assisting Alver. It was true that Alver had made a good king, better than his predecessors certainly. Faint memory reminded Cale that Alver had taken the throne after his father had been killed.
His mother had also died, hadn't she? Cale attempted to dredge the corners of his memory to figure out when she'd passed away. Unfortunately, it happened roughly thirty years in the past for him and it hadn't been a memorable event. She hadn't been a queen but a mere concubine. No one bothered to remember or make note of a concubine passing away. Not unless the king made a stink about it and Cale seemed to remember that Zed had done quite the opposite.
Cale tapped the letter thoughtfully.
He'd never really thought that he had very much in common with Alver Crossman. Other than a similar penchant for lying through their teeth, the pair of them couldn't be more different.
He'd never really thought very much about Alver at all.
His mother died. His father neglected him. His world changed.
He lost the rest of his family in the war. He took on new responsibilities. His world changed.
What an odd time to develop a feeling of kinship towards the future king.
They weren't all that similar ultimately but their lives had certainly followed a similar progression.
Cale's thoughts drifted to the kind woman they'd met at the palace who'd played with them and entertained her son with a sweet smile and a lovely personality.
...did she have to die?
Cale had every intention of changing the past. He hadn't exactly worked out how or where to start, but now that he actually had a chance to prepare the Henituse territory for the war and protect his family this time, Cale had every intention of taking that opportunity and changing just about everything that he could.
Saving some random concubine in the palace hadn't really been a part of his intentions or plans but...
Cale glanced down at the curly writing of the cheerful prince, blissfully unaware that the number of days counting down until his mothers death were swiftly decreasing. Cale couldn't remember when she died and that probably meant she died when he was still young enough not to pay attention to politics. Probably before or around the time his own mother had passed away.
Cale had been forced to become painfully politically aware after her passing. When those leaches they called vassal families attempted to attach themselves to him. When he first learned the necessity of lying and manipulating.
When he first learned that his father wasn't a strong person. Not a terrible person, not an unkind person, but a flawed and weak person who didn't understand what to do or how to do it.
He didn't know how to protect his eight year old son from the vassal families and he didn't even understand that he ought to have.
A well-meaning fool.
Was King Zed Crossman similar? It was possible. Cale didn't have much of an impression of him. He was the sort of king that would be forgotten in history. He never did very much and what he did do was only done adequately.
Cale observed as Roksu and Penelope read their letters, judging from their expressions he could surmise that he'd been accurate in assuming that the letters were all similar in nature.
How did one survive in the palace without support or protection?
Cale had struggled even within the relative safety of the Henituse territory. So much so that he'd felt the need to speak to Bassen cruelly. So much so that he'd changed the path of his life in order to protect himself and those he cared about.
The palace was significantly more dangerous. In retrospect it was amazing that Alver had even survived his childhood, much less become the crown prince and then the king. Even when he was the preferred son of the king and his eldest, chances of taking the throne were significantly hindered by the position of his mother.
Cale tapped the paper again before sighing and running a hand through his hair.
"Hey."
Roksu and Penelope looked up from their letters. Roksu was already penning a response ready to tell the prince who even knew what and Penelope had opted to begin folding her letting into a paper airplane.
Cale grinned. Strangely, despite how young and small they looked, he sort of felt like anything was possible when they were together. A baseless confidence inspired solely by a gut feeling and a short childhood.
Oh well, they'd figure it out as they went.
"What do you guys think about supporting the prince?"