FORGOTTEN ORCHIDS | CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SLEEP DID NOT COME EASY to the king of Vulpesterra, because that would be too easy for a ruler as troubled as he was. Atticus knew he was a well-liked king with people that he could lean on, but that didn't translate to being allowed to cling to those that gave him praise for his efforts. He was sure that even Jane must feel an obligation to care for him, since she had been doing so for his entire life.
He did not sleep, and nothing was alright.
When the moon reached its peak in the sky, Atticus knew that he had to leave the castle, if only for the sake of clearing his mind. He couldn't spend all his time inside, especially when his mind was spinning with insecure ideas that made it hard to think. Leon's words still rang clear in his mind—the definition of being a king. The word definition hurt more than anything else.
Atticus changed into common clothes, devoid of his royal signatures, and a simple black cloak. It was unlikely anyone would see him leaving the castle, never mind recognize him in the darkness of the night. But it was not a risk that he could take, being seen fleeing the castle as though on the run when he simply wanted to clear his mind. It would raise questions that Atticus didn't want to answer.
The halls were clear when he left his room. The staff had gone to sleep hours before, their jobs done once Atticus had refused to attend dinner, telling Jane he was too tired to go. He was relieved to be able to get to the gardens without so much as a glance in his direction, though the empty castle unnerved him. Such a big space should never be so empty.
The gardens had vines that reached the top of the walls, though they kept the plants confined inside the walls to prevent someone from sneaking in. Thorns lined the sides of the vines except for specific places that Atticus had memorized, making it easy for him to scale the wall without so much as a prick from a thorn. He landed on his feet outside the walls, keeping out of sight from the guards.
He felt like he was fifteen again, sneaking out of the castle when he wasn't supposed to. It was an old habit to break, but he hadn't snuck off in years. He hadn't needed to—he was the king! He didn't need to tiptoe now because the only one who would question him would be Jane. But he still hid in the shadows anyway, worried that he would be caught and dragged back to the castle.
At first, he walked. The fresh air was a pleasant change from the stuffy atmosphere of the palace; when he reached the center of the kingdom, he was surrounded by warm lights that lit a path for him to follow; the glow fought away the cold that was beginning to settle into his skin, causing his skin turn red from frostiness.
The farmlands came into view, the houses around him becoming few and far between.
The corruption was difficult to see even in the moonlight, blending into the ground. Atticus stuck to the road, keeping away from the red vines, unsure just how safe it was to be near. He knew he couldn't touch it, but he wasn't going to risk getting sick again, not like how he had. Jane still fretted over him when he slept in for too long.
Atticus looked up at the moon and stars, pausing to stare. It was a full moon that allowed him to see that night. His mother had loved full moons.
Atticus walked faster, unsure of where he was going. He knew he needed to go home before even more time passed, but he was still in his head. He was still thinking, and he couldn't go to sleep when he was thinking, because then he wouldn't sleep, and if he didn't sleep, he wouldn't be able to make it through the next day, and if he couldn't do that—
He was running before he realized it, his legs taking him wherever they wanted. Atticus felt like he was outside his body, unable to control where he was going, why he was running. His legs burned with the sudden effort of movement in the completely wrong direction, lungs cold from the harsh air he breathed in. Atticus would blame his watering eyes on the cold, but he knew deep down that it was the stress causing him to cry.
Kings didn't cry. Just another one of Atticus' quirks.
His foot snagged on a hole. Atticus fell, scraping the palms of his hands. He pulled himself into a sitting position and breathed in deeply, trying to ignore the feeling of his lungs freezing. He was still crying, tears stinging his cheeks with cold. The grass he sat in was wet with dew, only serving to add to the frigid weather that ailed him now.
The exhaustion hit next.
Atticus allowed his body to lie down in the grass, wide brown eyes staring up at the night sky. The moon had moved since he'd left the castle, reminding him of what he'd run away from.
The stars were so pretty tonight.
[ FORGOTTEN ORCHIDS ]
Jimmy had been expecting a full night of sleep but was instead awoken by frantic knocking at nearly six in the morning. The sun was barely rising, the Cod Empire only just waking up for the day with Jimmy as the exception. The fishermen were already at their posts; the agriculturalists were setting up their stalls in the market; the farmers were getting ready to work; and a seven-year-old girl stood on Jimmy's doorstep, anxiously wringing her hands together and perking up when he opened the door.
He was still in his pajamas when he opened the door, confused and blinking sleep out of his eyes. The image of the Codfather wearing sleeping clothes with cod depicted to be swimming did not brighten the girl's mood.
"Yes, hello? Are you alright?" Jimmy asked as he kneeled to her height, frowning. "What's your name?"
"Cassie," the girl sniffled. "I found someone out in the fields this morning and my moms don't know how to take care of him. He's freezing cold and hasn't woken up yet!" She looked distraught. Jimmy frowned, standing up straight and offering his hand for her to hold.
"Well, you did a very good thing by getting me. Can you bring me to your moms and this stranger?"
Cassie took his hand, pulling him out of his cabin and toward the direction of houses near the edge of the Cod Empire. Jimmy's mind turned with curiosity, but also worry. He might not know this stranger, but anyone who was in his empire was his responsibility, not his citizens'.
He was taken to a smaller home, the door unlocked instead of open, likely to keep the chill out. Cassie brought him to two older women who were standing above a figure on their couch, whispering to each other. They quieted down when they saw Jimmy enter. He spared them a smile before stepping over to check on the subject of their worry.
The smile on his face dropped when he realized just who he was looking at.
The Foxling was wrapped in two blankets, likely all the family could spare, his lips a faint blue color that worried Jimmy further. The younger man was shaking under the covers, his hair sticking to his forehead from sweat, hopefully from a fever that would be easy to heal from.
Jimmy turned to Cassie's moms, forcing a smile to hide his worry.
"Thank you for taking care of him, but I can take it from here," he assured, glancing at the Foxling with a frown. "Can I borrow the blankets while transporting him? I promise I'll have them returned as soon as possible. Perhaps Cassie can come with me to bring them home when I'm done?"
The two women shared a look before nodding. "Of course," the shorter of the two said, smiling at Jimmy. "Cassie, dear, can you do that?"
"Yes, ma," Cassie said, still standing by the door.
The taller woman sighed. "Thank you, Codfather. We didn't know what to do when Cassie found him. He was in a much worse condition than he is now."
Jimmy nodded stiffly, not wanting to think about a condition worse than this. He supposed the coma would have to be the worst. "No, thank you for helping him."
Jimmy turned to the Foxling, carefully folding the blankets over his smaller frame before gathering the younger man in his arms. He was surprised to find that the Foxling was so light; it was worrying, but there were more pressing matters to be concerned about. Besides, Jimmy had once been a farmer; he knew how to lift things without hurting himself. A barrel of water did not compare to a man smaller than he was.
Cassie opened the door for Jimmy, who carefully moved with the Foxling. He didn't want to risk waking the man up by hitting his head on the doorframe, so he went slow. Cassie followed him outside, shutting the door behind her.
"You know him?" the girl wondered, following Jimmy quickly. "You looked upset when you saw him."
"He's a friend," Jimmy said, ignoring the curious looks of bystanders as they moved through the kingdom to get back to his cabin. "He's the ruler of Vulpesterra."
"Oh," Cassie said with a frown. "So you aren't like my moms?"
Jimmy almost stumbled but managed to catch himself, throwing the girl a look over his shoulder. "Like your moms?" he asked, voice higher than he wanted it to be.
Cassie nodded, smiling up at him. "Yeah! You look at him the way Ma looks at Mom. I remember when Ma got sick one time, and Mom was so worried—"
The Foxling stirred, brow wrinkling in distaste at being moved from somewhere warm and quiet to a place that was cold and loud. Jimmy winced and tried not to move him around as much. He realized that he'd turned out of Cassie's story but did not ask her to repeat herself, wanting the Foxling to be comfortable during the small journey back to his cabin.
"We're friends," Jimmy repeated, dismissing Casise's question.
They reached Jimmy's cabin. Cassie pushed open the door, holding it so Jimmy could step in with the Foxling. He grimaced when he realized that he'd need to set the Foxling on the ground without blankets until Cassie jumped into action, getting the blankets and pillows off of Jimmy's bed to lay by the fireplace. He couldn't find it within himself to be annoyed, only relieved that he would not have to set the Foxling on the cold floor.
Once she had set up the makeshift bed, Cassie got to work on making the fireplace useful as Jimmy laid the Foxling on the ground. He carefully unwrapped him from the blankets and replaced them with his own before the Foxling could get too cold. Cassie got a fire started as Jimmy folded the blankets for her.
"You'll be alright, taking care of him on your own?" Cassie asked, taking the blankets from him.
Jimmy smiled, kneeling in front of her again. "I'll be just fine. Thank you for saving his life, Cassie. You saved someone very important to— to the empires," he said, smiling at her. Cassie beamed at him, one of her teeth missing. Jimmy hoped she'd gotten a good coin under her pillow for it.
He saw Cassie out the door, making sure she reached the main road before returning inside the cabin. The Foxling hadn't woken up, so Jimmy decided it would be good to make him some tea and soup for when he did. He'd have to do the mushroom stew, just for his own sanity, and if the Foxling didn't like green tea, he'd just have to put up with it.
He was not there when the Foxling awakened.
[ FORGOTTEN ORCHIDS ]
Atticus blinked slowly, realizing a little too late that the fire he was staring into was real and the heat that flowed through his body was very much not a dream, but a real symptom of the sickness he was most definitely experiencing, if the stuffiness of his nose was anything to go by.
Slowly, he sat up.
At first, Atticus didn't recognize where he was. The blankets that fell over his shoulders distracted him, their warmth too much for him to handle. He pushed them off and took a quick look around, heart hammering for far too long given how low his energy was. It was only when he heard the ocean's waves and realized he was in a wooden cabin did he finally remember what the Codfather's home looked like.
Confusion settled over his mind, brows furrowing with thought, but the rest of his body relaxed. He knew the Codfather. He didn't remember how he got here, but he knew the Codfather would have the explanation. If nothing else, he knew the Codfather was taking care of him, since it seemed he had stripped down his bed just to give Atticus a comfortable place by the fire.
There was a tantalizing smell in the air. It took Atticus a minute to recognize the smell of mushroom stew, but when he did, his stomach rumbled in want. Atticus sighed and shook his head, trying to clear his foggy thoughts enough to call out to—hopefully—the Codfather.
He didn't need to, though. A few minutes later, the Codfather walked out of the kitchen with a bowl in one hand and a teacup in the other. When his eyes landed on Atticus' sitting form, he lit up, an expression of relief spreading across his face.
"Foxling," he greeted, taking a seat in front of Atticus. "Here, it's green tea. Should warm you right up!" He looked so earnest that Atticus took the cup without protest, despite the fact that he felt like he was on fire internally. "Here, it's—" The Codfather stopped, realizing that Atticus didn't have enough hands. "Um. I can, like. You know. Feed you. If that's okay?"
Atticus bit his tongue, deciding not to give in to his embarrassment. He nodded. "Yeah. Thanks," he said, voice rough even to his ears. The Codfather winced, so Atticus knew he must sound worse to the other than he did to himself.
"Drink the tea," the Codfather encouraged. Atticus brought the cup to his lips, sipping it carefully. The tea was warm, but not enough for Atticus to feel uncomfortable. It cooled the heat in his stomach, at least, which was strange given the temperature of the drink. "May I ask what happened, Foxling? One of my citizens found you in the farmlands this morning. What were you doing out there?"
Atticus grimaced, taking another sip of the green tea so he didn't have to answer immediately. The Codfather was staring at him with so much concern that it almost paralyzed him, realizing that he had somehow tricked the older man into caring for him like this.
Well. He didn't have to lie, but he couldn't tell the full truth, either. "I went for a run," Atticus said, looking into the fire. "I needed to clear my mind and couldn't sleep. I didn't realize that I had passed our borders, but I laid down to rest." The night felt so long ago, but Atticus knew it had only been hours ago. Time was funny like that. "I felt exhausted. I must have fallen asleep without meaning to."
The Codfather continued to stare as if trying to detect what Atticus was lying about. Atticus gave him an innocent smile in return, knowing that hiding the truth was for the best. The Codfather did not need to know Atticus' secrets, just as Atticus didn't need to know his.
They weren't even friends.
The Codfather broke the staring contest, nodding as he looked down at the bowl of soup in his lap. "Right. Well, you're lucky you were found. You might have frozen to death otherwise."
Atticus shrugged, taking another sip of tea. "It didn't feel so cold last night."
"The temperature in the swamp drops quickly at this time of year. You were probably warm from your run, too." The Codfather held up the bowel, a silent suggestion.
"Yeah," Atticus said quietly, agreeing with his words and his offer. "Thank you. For helping me. Again," he added as an afterthought.
The Codfather smiled, gathering some of the soup on a spoon. "We have to stop meeting like this," he joked, carefully bringing the spoon to Atticus' mouth. Atticus laughed, feeling the spoon touch his cheek as he moved, before he allowed the Codfather to feed him, trying not to imagine what sort of rumors this would spread if anyone saw them. "Are you ready for the next peace meeting at House Blossom?" he asked, giving Atticus another spoonful.
Atticus rolled his eyes, scoffing under his breath. "I completely forgot about that. I'll have to be friendly with King Sausage of all people, won't I?"
The Codfather grinned, expression amused. "You read my mind." Atticus smiled at him before taking a sip of tea. The Codfather paused. "You have some soup on your face," he pointed out.
Atticus hummed, using his sleeve to wipe his mouth. "Thanks," he said.
The Codfather hesitated before he shook his head. "No. Here."
He leaned forward, gently swiping his thumb over Atticus' cheek; close to his lips, but not quite close enough for Atticus to have gotten it. Atticus stared at him. The Codfather stared back, his hand paused on Atticus' face as though time had stopped in its tracks to watch the two rulers at this moment.
The Codfather inhaled sharply, pulling back as though he had been burned. He turned away to look into the fire and not at Atticus. The younger ruler couldn't put into words how that made him feel, so he decided to ignore it.
"I should be going," Atticus said, setting his cup down. "My Council will be wondering where I am."
The Codfather nodded, standing. "I'll get a carriage together for you. Do you feel well enough to reach the watchtower on your own?"
He didn't, but Atticus nodded anyway, not wanting to force the Codfather to be around him if he clearly didn't want to. The Codfather forced a smile. "Finish the soup. Your carriage will be ready when you're done."
His heart felt like it was lodged in his throat, but Atticus decided to listen to the Codfather anyway.
The Codfather, who was not there to say goodbye when the carriage took Atticus home.