Carriage Ride with Brats
741 Words
The wooden wheels of the carriage rattled and creaked as it rolled over the cobblestone road. Inside sat Zephyros, his ink-stained hands folded on his knees, staring out the window in silence. Across from him sat Slyvareaen, arms crossed and scowling, while Eryndor fidgeted nervously with the hem of his sleeve, the tense air pressing down on them all.
Zephyros cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you couldn't play with Xylenne today," he said quietly, breaking the silence.
Slyvareaen's red eyes flicked toward him, sharp and accusing. "Why won't you adopt Xylenne?" he muttered. Zephyros turned his gaze back to the window. "I cannot," he said simply. "And I'll be leaving soon... to my country estate." Slyvareaen's glare hardened. "How come you didn't tell her about that, huh?"
"She doesn't need to know," Zephyros replied, his voice low but steady. "When she gets adopted, she'll forget all about me." Slyvareaen's small hands clenched into fists on his lap. "No she won't! I saw her at the garden party, looking for you! She was smiling in front of all those adults, but she looked sad when she thought nobody was watching!" Zephyros exhaled, tiredly. "There's nothing I can do for her, kiddo. Just drop this."
"No!" Slyvareaen's voice cracked with anger. "I want her to be happy! Why can't she be happy?"
"Not everyone can be," Zephyros said, his tone soft but heavy. "But she'll be fine once she has a new family."
"You're scared of something, aren't you?" Slyvareaen snapped.
"Y-you shouldn't speak to adults like that," Eryndor stammered nervously, glancing between them.
"No!" Slyvareaen barked back. "Look at him! He keeps making excuses! No wonder Xylenne gets upset with you!"
Zephyros's jaw tightened. "You don't know what you're talking about. You're just a child, you don't understand her needs."
Slyvareaen's eyes blazed. "Then tell me what you're running from! What are you scared of?"
"I'm an adult," Zephyros said coldly. "I'm scared of nothing. Mind your tone, young boy."
Slyvareaen slammed his hand on the seat. "No! My father's a Duke! I'll say what I want! I hate you! Xylenne will never be happy, and I hate you for that!"
Zephyros leaned forward, his patience finally thinning. "That's enough from you." The carriage jerked to a stop in front of the Valthis estate. Zephyros stepped out, lifted Eryndor gently, and handed him to the maid waiting outside. Eryndor waved nervously before being led away.
Zephyros climbed back inside, shutting the door behind him. He stared at Slyvareaen, who still glared stubbornly, arms crossed.
"You seem... unusually invested," Zephyros said quietly as the carriage began moving again. "Why do you care so much?"
Slyvareaen's fists tightened. "Because you don't! My Xylenne deserves more!"
"Your Xylenne?" Zephyros frowned. "Don't say that, little boy. You don't know what you're talking about."
"My Xylenne," Slyvareaen repeated stubbornly. "My Xylenne, my Xylenne! What if I marry her?"
Zephyros blinked in disbelief, then scoffed. "I won't allow her to marry a boy as bad-mannered as you. If anything, I'd rather it be the other little boy."
Slyvareaen's face flushed red. "Well, she said she'd marry me in the future, it's already set in stone!"
Zephyros's hand twitched slightly. "My daughter—" He caught himself. "I mean, Xylenne will not. I won't allow it. Watch your tone."
Slyvareaen smirked, knowing he'd struck a nerve. "You're a fool. I'll hate you forever! And when I'm big and strong, I'll duel you, and win!" The carriage slowed again and came to a stop before the Orthis estate. The driver opened the door, and Slyvareaen hopped down, brushing off his uniform. He turned back to Zephyros, eyes burning. "I saw how Lady Varra grabbed her and said mean things to her," he said fiercely. "I know she was going to hit her."
Zephyros's heart lurched at that, but he said nothing. Slyvareaen frowned, tightening his fists. "You act like you don't care... but if you really didn't, you wouldn't look so sad."
And with that, he turned and walked up the stone steps toward his estate. Zephyros sat alone in the carriage as the door closed and the wheels began to roll again.
His reflection wavered in the window glass, tired eyes, messy hair, guilt carved into every line of his face. "...You're wrong, little boy," he muttered under his breath. "I care too much."
The carriage rattled on, disappearing down the fog-draped road as the day faded to silence.
- Writer
