2372 Iclis 01, Kindreth

Breakfast was quiet when Elred arrived. Her mother was already seated on the head of the table, her father taking the first seat on the left side. Without a world, Elred pulled up the seat to her mother's right and settled down. It wasn't a formal meal so they weren't expecting any relatives to join. That left one seat unoccupied: her brother's.

The doors connecting the kitchen and the royal dining room burst open, and just like that, the meal began. Elred thumbed her fork, the cold glassware digging in her palms as she looked around. There was still no sign of her brother anywhere. Where was he, anyway? Elred had been so busy preparing for the inauguration that she hadn't even had time to speak to him. Was he somewhat angry at her?

By the time the main course came and went, her brother still hasn't showed up. Elred turned to her parents to find them calmly wiping the corners of their mouths with napkins. Concerned was the last word Elred would use to describe them.

"Is Cirasa coming at all?" Elred blurted just as a cup of honey-scented pastry was set down at her plate.

Her mother stuck a spoon straight at the caramelized surface, watching with delight as it cracked. "Why are you asking me, child?" she said in a flat, absent tone.

Elred frowned. Shouldn't they be thinking of their child?

The Queen, sensing Elred's apprehension, sighed and set her spoon down. "Look, Cirasa is big enough to decide things on his own," she leveled her gaze on Elred. "If he doesn't want to show up at breakfast, then he won't. It wasn't his royal duty to show up so I wouldn't hound him for that, if I were you."

Elred's gut turned. It shouldn't surprise her that her parents think like that but somehow, she was still couldn't believe she was hearing it right now. Her eyes trained down to the dessert laid in front of her. Suddenly, it didn't sound appetizing anymore. She slammed her hands down the table, making a few glasswares clink and quiver. "Excuse me," Elred muttered, pushing her seat away from the table and slinking out of the room. She didn't bother looking back to see her parents' reactions.

Like her, Cirasa's rooms were located in the second floor of the Vertinso Mansion, so it's not a long walk from the dining hall. He could have made it even if he woke up at an unfavorable time. Her soles slapped against the rugs covering the corridor. Besides her, there were a couple of beige-clad servants strolling in and out of the hall, carrying buckets of dusty linens as well as brooms and other cleaning materials.

"Pardon me," she approached one woman who looked like she had just crawled out of a cold furnace judging from the flecks of ash on her cheeks and dress. The woman flinched at Elred's attention. Elred clasped her hands together to appear amicable. "Do you know where my brother is?"

The woman blinked. Her burgundy hair reminded Elred of the wine her mother was so fond of drinking on festivals. Then, her eyes lit up. "Oh, the Master," she said as if that's a hidden code for something. "Some of my friends saw him enter his room yesterday."

Elred knitted her eyebrows. "And he didn't leave since then?"

The woman scratched the back of her ear, nose wrinkling in thought. "Not that I know of," she said. "I haven't seen him either in the...um, around."

"Huh," was Elred's only answer. She ducked her head at the servant with a smile. "Thank you."

The servant squeaked, her shoulders tensing. "N-no worries, Your Grace," she said. Her hands flew here and there as if she wasn't sure whether to give a salute or a bow. Elred left her in her askance.

By the time she reached the door to Cirasa's room, a foreboding sense settled in Elred's gut. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. She curled her fingers and rapped against the glass dividing her and her brother. "Cirasa?" she called. Despite how silly she felt, she pushed through. "It's me, Elred. Can I enter?"

Nobody answered. Quiet. It was too quiet.

"Cirasa?" she called again. Her fingers wrapped around the knob and attempted to turn it. It didn't budge. Locked. "Hey, Rassy. Open up!"

Knowing how much Cirasa hated that nickname, he was bound to show, especially if Elred's screaming it out in the corridors. Her heart sank when she was greeted with silence. What's going on? There's not a sign of movement from the other side.

"Cirasa, I'm coming in!" Elred screamed one last time. She couldn't ignore the feeling in her stomach anymore. She had to get inside that room, no matter what. Spreading her legs, Elred planted her hands on the thick, glass door and summoned her magic, letting it warm her skin. The slab broke into a million shards, clinking against each other and against tendrils of her magic as they vanished into her skin. Neat trick.

The first she noticed was the dark. Due to the thick glass making up the walls of the spacious mansions in Abshire, sunlight wasn't in their favor even if it's daytime. At the least, they needed lanterns and light rods imported from Alkara just to be able to see. However, this room...

Then, she saw the lump lying in the middle of the spacious room. A spear of recognition dawned on her. Cirasa. Before she knew it, her legs had sprung into action, bringing her to her brother. What was he doing on the floor? He had a perfectly-sized bed. Also, why was it so dark?

"Cirasa, what are you doing?" Elred touched her brother's shoulder and immediately recoiled as her fingertips felt like they've been scorched. What in Crintine's name? She crawled closer to him, her eyes straining to adjust to the absence of substantial light. "Hey, are you alright?"

A weak cough rang from her brother's lips. Good. He's alive, at least. Elred wiped her fingers down her embroidered skirt and reached out to him again. This time, she succeeded in pushing him over so that his back was pressed to the floor. Then, she saw it.

A thin streak of blood trailed down the side of Cirasa's lips, dripping down to the rugs. Elred's breath hitched. Had the other Valkalins made their move against the crown? If so, why Cirasa? Should it be her first?

"Hey, Cirasa," Elred shook her brother who coughed some more. "I'm calling the healers. Just...just stay put."

Before she could stand up, Cirasa buckled and flailed. A whimper escaped his lips as his hands flew to his hair. They began clawing at his scalp. His breathing became shallow. Labored. Elred's instincts went out of the glass-paned window. She cradled her brother's feverish form close to her as more and more seizures gripped him.

"Boots in the mud. Walls painted red. Lost button..." Cirasa muttered under his breath, the strangled sound almost lost to the whimpers and hitching sobs gurling in his throat. "A gathering in the forest. A gathering—"

Cirasa bucked some more, causing Elred to press her brother's head to her neck. Never mind the scalding heat emanating from her brother's skin. She needed to know what's going on but she couldn't ask Cirasa, could she?

"Elred," a weak voice called her. She glanced down to see her brother's eyes half-open. He looked like he's fighting to stay awake. "Don't...don't tell anyone about this."

Unmasked anger curled off her. "What do you mean? You're obviously sick," she said. "I'm calling the healers."

Despite her brother's protests, she hooked her arm underneath his legs and hefted him. She gasped when his weight pressed against her. He weighed almost nothing! Her eyes landed on trays of food placed on the low table in the other wing. They didn't look like they were touched at the very least.

A hand gripped her shoulders. Her brother must have known what she was thinking. "Please," he whispered. Elred dug her teeth against her lip. Should she honor her brother's wishes and leave him like this? How long has this even been going on?

She trudged to the quilted bed in the opposite wing and set him down. "What was that?" she asked, searching her brother's face for an answer. The same shade of scarlet eyes stared back at her. His silk-yellow hair, messy and pale, hung in limp, thin strands from his scalp. "How long have you been like this?"

Cirasa averted his eyes and played with the hem of his blanket. "A long time," he answered. His voice was still gnarled and scratchy. Should Elred give him some water? "Remember the headaches I got last season?"

Elred nodded, moving away from the bed in search for a pitcher. She found one resting on his bedside table along with a spattering of parchment, spare spectables, quills, and used bottles of ink. "Yeah. The one the healers said was the case of cold weather?" she poured water into a cup she found next to the pitcher, filling it to the brim. "What about it?"

"It's the same as now," Cirasa revealed. Elred paused on her way back to the bed, her hand still wrapped around the cup. "It's just...stronger and it comes with more chaos."

"What do you mean?" Elred resumed her stride and handed him the cup. He took it with a shaky grip. "What about the stuff you said? I didn't catch all of it. They sounded gibberish too."

Cirasa tipped his head back as he drank from the cup. He reached halfway before handing it back to Elred. She set it back on the bedside table. "I don't know," he said. "I didn't realize I was speaking. All I know is that there's these images...they feel so real. Like I was there."

Elred bit the inside of her cheek. Well, that's how dreams worked, right? "Well, don't worry about it," she said. "We'll figure it out, okay? For now, rest. It looks like you need it."

Cirasa nodded. Before she stood up, Elred reached out and planted a kiss on her brother's scalp. Unlike earlier, his temperature had eased. That's a huge relief. "I'll get the healer to come here," she shook her head when her brother began to protest. The streak of dried blood still shone against his pale skin. "No protests. I can't have you coughing out your organs and gods-know-what-else."

In the end, her brother gave in. Elred went out of the room and replaced the door with her magic, keeping it unlocked, this time. The wind shifted behind her. She turned when a whiff of red streaked in her periphery. Her eyes caught a red-cloaked figure hurrying down the corridor before disappearing in the nearest corner leading somewhere.

Elred knitted her eyebrows. What—

"There you are!" a stringent but familiar voice bled in Elred's ears. "I've been looking for you since breakfast. Where have you been?"

Elred met the Queen's eyes and gave her a quick, acknowledging nod. "Around," she resisted the urge to scratch the back of her neck. She wouldn't want to appear lying in front of her mother.

"That doesn't matter," the Queen waved a hand in the air and grabbed Elred's wrist. "It's time to start planning for the Feast. You and I know well enough we can't let it fail. Come."

Without much of a choice, Elred let herself be dragged forward. Still, she kept her eyes on the glass walls. Which one of them would be painted red soon?