Faradeigh was intensely massaging his temples as he aimlessly wandered the many halls and corridors of the castle. He was being followed by his personal servant, Phillip. He had to admit to himself that he felt guilty for most certainly getting poor Phillip into tremendous amounts of trouble, but he had stated several times that he could get around just fine, and also that he had no need of a servant. Rudeness was not the intention, but he had spent so long caring for himself that he did not know how to allow others to care for his every need. Receiving help once in a while, or having someone to watch his back would not have been so bad. Rather, it was Faradeigh's greatest desire. But being treated for every little thing was nothing short of overbearing to the young Demon Slayer.
"Look, Phillip." Faradeigh said, stopping in his tracks to address the young servant. He was no older than Blyke was. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, I really do. And I also understand you are just doing your job, but I'm sorry to say that I have no desire to have a servant. Just tell me who I have to talk to, and I will arrange for you to work for someone else."
There was more to it than Faradeigh's discomfort, although that was of course the main reason for this decision. Having a servant would greatly interfere with his relationship to Syckle and Rigel, as well as his personal space. However, Faradeigh did have to admit that it was a bit unfair to be taking all of his stress out on the young serving boy. Faradeigh was still avoiding everyone at every possible turn, despite days having passed since the incident. He simply did not know how to deal with his problems.
"But Sir Shackle..." Phillip started.
"Just Faradeigh, please." Faradeigh insisted with a hint of annoyance.
"Faradeigh... sir!" Phillip continued, much to Faradeigh's disdain. "The castle and surrounding town is a vast place! You have been here just shy of two weeks, most of that time spent recovering from injuries. Surely you still need a guide?"
"Where are we?" Faradeigh asked.
"We are..." Phillip hesitated, looking around as he attempted to gain his bearings.
Evidently, Phillip had been so preoccupied that he had not been paying attention to which of the many corridors that they had meandered into. But Faradeigh knew the entire time, and the look of victory due to having this knowledge was plain as day on his face.
"Around that corner is the hall that leads to the castle's armory." Faradeigh spoke, "And for some reason, across from there is the room that belongs to Princess Stella. I imagine walking past there unannounced would get us both into serious trouble, yet you made no moves to stop us. It was not hard to figure that you did not know off-hand where we were. Tell me... do you need a guide?"
Phillip was speechless, and Faradeigh stared him down. They looked into each other's eyes, trying to get a read on the other's thoughts. Faradeigh looked into Phillip's eyes, and saw a young boy who had no idea what he was doing. He saw a boy that was trying his best, and was constantly being met with more and more barriers in his path. Faradeigh frowned at this for he never felt so bad in his life. At a time that was not so long ago, Faradeigh, too, had been having those same thoughts and actions. In some ways, he still was. Despite this, he knew his harsh words were necessary, for the both of them. As such, he held firm and stood his ground.
What Phillip saw when he met Faradeigh's eyes had frightened him. The blue eyes of the warrior were fierce and hard, yes, but what sparked the fear in Phillip's mind was how old they seemed to be. He was looking into the eyes of someone who had seen much, and knew even more. There was experience in those eyes. They held no emotion and betrayed no action. It was as if they knew what to portray, and posed for Phillip specifically. He shuddered at this and backed off.
"I-I-I c-can t-t-talk t-to s-someone for y-you..." Phillip stuttered before clearing his throat. "They will approach you afterward, and if you still wish it, then I can be transferred... Are you sure about this?"
"Phillip..." Faradeigh said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I know I have not been easy on you, and I know I spent a lot of time avoiding you. I'm sorry. I was never fit to be your master, the same way you were never fit to be my servant. But if we both do our best, we will come across those that we were meant to come across, you understand?"
Phillip's eyes widened at Faradeigh's gentleness. Faradeigh could see that Phillip had understood his words, and even looked excited by them. There, in that moment, Faradeigh had seen potential in that kid. Potential for what, Faradeigh did not know, but he was perhaps the only servant Faradeigh had seen at that age who could read. The thought of the future that the ability to read could bring the young servant brought hope to Faradeigh, for it was a skill that has and continues to serve Faradeigh well. Faradeigh also found himself feeling a bit better at the exchange, even bearing a slight smile despite everything in his life falling to pieces.
Faradeigh patted his back, wished him luck on his endeavors, and waved him goodbye. This was the first and only real time Faradeigh had communicated with the kid. Phillip had shown him around after he had recovered from his duel with Castor, and became a thorn in his side from there. Right away, Faradeigh felt that he could navigate the place well-enough on his own. But he remembered having a worrying thought of familiarity, of having seen many of the rooms and halls before, even though he never had.
As Faradeigh had these thoughts, Phillip had disappeared from sight. Remembering just where he was, Faradeigh decided he would have to leave before he got into any trouble himself. But as he took his first step, he heard something. It was the sound of a door opening around the corner, where the armory and bedroom to the younger Princess dwelled.
Faradeigh could not help himself, and decided to sneak to the wall, where he could look around the corner and spy. He remembered thinking he had to keep an eye on her, and now seemed just as good of a time as any. Nodding to himself, he slowed his breathing and looked around the corner. What he saw nearly made his eyes burst from his head.
He saw the Princess. Her hair was being tied back in a style that was more befitting of a warrior than a Princess. But that was only secondary to the familiar black outfit that she was currently wearing. It was the same outfit as the mercenary that was accompanying Syrah at the church house had worn, on the day he had sealed the rift in Glenwood. The same as the girl who saved his life in Castle Cardinal all those years before.
He took a second look to be sure.
'That is definitely her hair, golden blond...' Faradeigh thought erratically. He watched as she promptly covered it with a cowl and hood.
The room she surely emerged from was the very same one that the Princess dwelled within. But there were no guards around, and the armory workers were currently on break.
'Does she think she is alone?' Faradeigh thought, thinking her to be a rookie, 'Is that why she left the room before completely covering herself?'
And at the Princess' hips were those strange weapons she used at the church house, and at the bar. He remembered the marks and the burns that those things had caused at the bar, the damage that they were capable of doing to spirits... how the energy turned red when he arrived and she had slain the Shade. Faradeigh had also remembered the first time he saw her, how she set up that strange barrier that saved him from Thayo's arrows, and the knights' strikes, allowing him to get away. She followed, they introduced themselves, and went their separate ways... until the rift...
' 'The rift...' Faradeigh suddenly thought, turning away from the Princess and back to his hiding spot, 'I hadn't found it on my own, had I? She had lead me there, hadn't she? And she made Syrah offer me a place here...'
It was never fate that had brought Faradeigh to Corvin's Blades, but the design of another's motives. Faradeigh could not help but feel spiteful at this revelation. It was as though he had not earned his place at the castle after all. Rather, it was that someone had taken an interest in him and made it happen. Oh, how he wanted to expose her for her activities. But then...
'Why is she interested in me?' Faradeigh inevitably thought.
If she really did have some sort of interest in him, then there were still bounds that he had earned everything he had gotten so far. True, he had no idea what that interest was or where it stemmed from. Perhaps it was not him at all, but that strange wolf. It had appeared the day they had met, if he remembered correctly, and it appeared many times in Glenwood after the night he had found Rigel's egg. Around the time the rift opened...
'I don't know what to think...' Faradeigh thought, his emotions calming, 'But I do know that I am not the only one with great secrets.'
Faradeigh thought about how he would feel if his relations to Syckle had been revealed, what others would think and what would happen to him and Rigel. Sympathy welled in Faradeigh's chest as he thought about what could happen with the Princess if everyone found out about her secret life. He supposed it made sense, since being a Princess held certain standards and duties. No one seemed to know about her abilities, but Faradeigh knew that they were taboo. Hiding made sense, but perhaps longing was what drove her to become someone else. Longing to live the life of a warrior.
He looked at his hands as he realized that there was no other life he could have possibly lived. Not with the way his life had gone ever since Osmith died... no, since his birth. It had been pointed out to him many times, and although he did not care so much of his origins as he thought he should, he had to admit that his name had to come from somewhere.
"Why do they say those mean things!?" A younger Faradeigh cried, "I'm not mean! I'm not a criminal!"
"All names come from somewhere, young one." The old soothing voice of Faradeigh's first guardian, Osmith explained. "Yours is a bad omen, and for that I am sorry. It is not your fault, but the fault of your mother..."
Faradeigh remembered those words, and he remembered them well. However, he very seldom gave them much thought. He remembered hating his mother for subjugating him to the harshness he had endured. To this day, he still felt that anger, but he had also accepted it as a part of himself. Like Princess Stella's powers, his name, too, was taboo. He was further along than her, accepting himself for what he was and giving no mind to those who did not.
Keeping this fresh in his mind, he decided that he would let this truth go unspoken. This revelation had done naught but answer a few things. However, more questions were raised as well. But one thing was for sure... The Princess had known who he was the entire time, even during the events in Glenwood. There had to be some sort of game in place, and he had no idea what it was... but that did not mean he would never find out.