Our souls breathe the fire from within,

Don't fall and live in our broken dreams.

18th ☾

Forlorn Destiny

After being casually greeted by the other guests, the conversations on the table went along.

I was seated on Esme's left, which was the only seat available on the table when I arrived. As we were eating, she couldn't help but tell me, "You like your hair a bit like the boys, Cassandra?"

"I guess." My hand traced the tips of my hair.

"Grandmother, don't you think she greatly resembles Lancelot's friend? Was it the one yesterday?" Alec, who was sitting on a chair across from mine, asked Esme. He didn't take his eyes off me the whole time. It was truly unusual for a young lady to have this kind of hair, and the fiery red color hadn't been of any help to hush down other people's interest. But solely intrigued as he might be, it was a good start to catch Alec Gaunt's attention.

I briefly glanced at Lancelot. He didn't hear our conversation, for he was sitting at the other end of the long table. He was talking with the young lady in front of him. I felt the slightest pang of jealousy that I wasn't entitled to.

"She sure does," Esme agreed.

"He's..." I said, trailing off. "He's my older brother. He was on his way to Moss. Did he stop by?"

"He came here with Lancelot," Alec said, twitching his eyes, as if suddenly remember a confusing thought. Regaining back focus, he added, "But you two look so alike. I would have easily mistaken you for him."

Carefully observing him, I was trying to guess why Lancelot thought he was Alec Forthwind. I honestly had no clue. One thing that I knew was that I had to keep this conversation going. "It could happen. They said we really look alike. Do you also think the same?"

"Yeah, in almost every aspect. You're also acquainted with Lancelot?" Alec asked.

"A bit."

"Stop with your silly questions, Alec. The young lady is hardly able to touch her food," Esme scolded her grandson. "Let her eat."

"It's alright," I told them.

"Are they to your liking?" Esme asked about the meal.

"Yes, very much," I replied with a nod, finishing my soup. The soup was excellent, and it had been a long time since I had a proper meal like this. My stomach hurled in response with every spoonful, famished and excited at the same time.

"Where you from?" Alec asked.

Where, exactly? That was a hard question. I'd decided to say, "Merillain."

"That's quite a far," Alec said, pausing for a moment. "What brings you here?"

"I was traveling with my cousins. They went to Moss, leaving me here for a bit," I replied, thinking over if my reason would be suffice. I stared at the ring underneath the gloves I was wearing. How much could I tell him, without confirming that he was the person I was searching for? Would it be safe for me to do so? Or was it too early to risk everything like that?

"When will they be back?" Alec questioned.

"They'll be here in a few days," I replied, eliminating the confusing thoughts in my head.

"Alec," Esme called his attention, "don't you still have some things to finish outside? We would be needing more woods for the guests who were coming by the end of this month."

"I should get to it," Alec said. It had been a while since he had finished his meal, but he lingered around and kept on asking me questions.

"Yes, please," Esme replied, easily.

Alec Gaunt's eyes briefly met mine when he got up from the table, and I smiled a bit in response. He also said goodbye to a few more guests who were still eating. I subtly followed Alec's movements with my eyes, still in wonder if this was really the son of the former king.

"Feel at home, dear. Why don't you have a talk with Lancelot? Isn't he your friend?" Esme asked in a low voice, as she was watching me eat.

"I... don't really know him that well," I replied with indecision. Friend. Lancelot and I hardly even exchanged a single greeting since we saw each other here. "He's good friends with my brother, that's why I know him."

"Yes, yes, I met your brother," Esme recalled.

"I knew Lancelot because of him."

"Lancelot's a fine looking man. All of our female guests are attracted to him. Take Caroline, for example. She couldn't take her eyes off him. He doesn't seem to know, though. He's very courteous, hardly turning down a conversation," Esme said, her eyes on Lancelot and the one called Caroline.

It was hard to believe that this was the same man who had confessed his feelings for me. This familiar stranger who also kept in his thoughts pieces of those stolen moments we'd shared together.

"Yes, he could be like that. He and Caroline seem to be friendly, too," I replied.

"Her father's a professor at Signet Guilt. Lancelot met them last night," Esme replied.

"Is she a sorcerer as well?"

"I haven't got the chance to ask. Maybe. It's a gift that runs in the family, after all." Esme poured herself a cup of tea, before adding two sugar cubes in it. "Do you want some tea?"

"No, thank you," I politely declined. "Has Lancelot been staying here for a while now?"

"Just the other day. I heard he's also here for business. He seems to be well-off, that man," Esme replied, taking a sip of her tea.

"My brother also told me," I said, deciding to drift the conversation away from Lancelot. It was a good thing that nobody here realized it yet that Lancelot was the prince of Incantasi. "Your inn is lovely, by the way. Is it a family legacy?"

"Yes," Esme said, and smiled at me sweetly. "It has been with my family for years now. Alec will inherit this someday."

"Really?"

She nodded in appreciative agreement. "That's why I'm strict with him. He's still a carefree lad."

"What about his parents?"

She looked at a distance. "He's alone now."

"Oh," I muttered in a low voice. "You mean..."

Esme continued in a hushed voice, "He was thrown here when he was very young. Abandoned, some said."

I held my breath, unable to tell if it was relief that flooded over me that I had to hold on tightly to my chair and steady myself. Was I dreaming? Did we really locate the missing prince?

Finding my voice, I stammered, "He... was?"

"My husband and I, we didn't get the chance to have a child, so we took care of him."

"How... how young was he then?"

"Very young. He was only a small child when we took him in," Esme replied. "It's been more than fifteen years now."

I swallowed. "Did you know the reason why he was abandoned here?"

"We never knew. But we found him at the front gate, hungry and shivering in the cold. He was just a child then, and we couldn't help but take pity on the little thing. My husband was very fond of him, and he taught him the things he needed to know about running this place," Esme said.

"Where is your husband now?" I slowly asked, having a guess but didn't want to conclude right away.

"He's not with us anymore," Esme replied quietly.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said.

She placed a hand on mine. "It's alright."

"And that was very kind of you and your husband to take him in. I mean, Alec," I said.

"It was a decision that we would never regret. Oh, heading outside?" Esme lifted her head to ask, abruptly cutting off our conversation. When I turned to my left, I saw that Lancelot was leaving the table with Caroline. They were heading for the door leading to the garden.

"Yes, we're going for a walk. Thank you for the lovely meal," said Lancelot, a courteous smile on his lips.

"I see. Cassandra, why don't you join them? You three are of the same age," Esme suddenly suggested.

My eyes widened in response, even if I didn't mean to. I was trying to be on my best behavior. I shouldn't act as if I was affected. However, I still couldn't look at Lancelot, as I stammered with my excuse, "No... I mean, I would love to take a walk, but they might want to spend some time alone."

"Are you sure, Cassandra?" Lancelot asked me, standing there. He was probably waiting for an explanation why I appeared this morning at the inn he was staying at dressed up like this. And why, all of a sudden, I readily avoided him.

I stared at my folded hands, before I lifted my head to answer. "Yes, I'm certain. Have a good time."

"We'll get going then," Lancelot said.

Esme nodded.

I suddenly felt sick in my stomach, but I kept that steady smile on my face. This was the consequence of what I was feeling, and I had to see through it that I wouldn't leave more casualties than intended. There was no point in it.

"Everything alright?" Esme asked after they left, a bit worried.

"Yes, of course," I said in a cheerful voice. But I saw it in her eyes that she saw something in me, no matter how much I'd tried to hide it. I suddenly felt self-conscious. And even if she didn't say a word about it, I could feel the weight of her stare.

♡ ♥ ♢ ♦ ♤ ♠ ♧ ♣

I found Alec Gaunt chopping woods in the backyard of the inn. His shirt was drenched in sweat, exhausted as he wiped away the droplets that fell on his face with his left arm.

There were working gloves on both of his hands. I noticed that he never removed them, not when I was around, anyway. It didn't seem like he was doing it on purpose. It also happened that the only times I'd been able to have a conversation with him, he was always working.

I also noticed that aside from that one time he was present at the dining table when I first came to this inn as Cassandra, Alec never joined the guests during mealtime again. Only Esme was present there, entertaining the inn's guests. I once asked Esme about it. She said that they were preparing for special guests who were bound to arrive soon.

This was supposedly the reason why Alec Gaunt had been so busy. In fact, he only got back here yesterday, after going on a trip to the Village of Moss. Esme said that he had bought some goods.

Alec went to Moss with those two inn helpers I saw that day when Lancelot first brought me here. There were five other men who came back with them, but they didn't stay here at the inn. I didn't get the chance to see where they went after.

Maybe I should mention it to Bryce or Anthony so that they could trace them. I wondered what transaction they had there in Moss. It didn't seem like the usual trading and buying of goods.

There was no telling when Alec would disappear and have another trip again, so I had to make use of this opportunity. But what were the chances of me confirming if there was a seal on his right hand or not?

Slim, I thought.

I slowly approached Alec. As I was near him, I stepped on a piece of wood and it made a cracking sound.

Alec looked up to me, surprised. "Hey."

"It's me again," I greeted him. "Good morning."

"Cassandra," he said my name in a low voice.

I cringed, still not used to it. The fear of being taken captive because of this decision kept on ringing in my head. The last time I was Cassandra, it was the day my parents had been brutally slaughtered. They wanted this person—the girl with the seal. What if they already knew that I was alive?

Skepticism flooded over me.

It was a good thing that the inn wasn't located near the town plaza. The guards were usually patrolling that area. And I hadn't heard anything unusual from Bryce and Anthony. I was still safe.

"That's me," I replied, uneasily. "Still not finished with your morning chores?"

"Not yet," Alec replied, peering at me with friendly curiosity, before going back to what he was doing. We'd had been talking to each often this past week, whenever I could find an excuse to be around him.

"Okay," I said, fiddling with my fingers and wondering how I could peer more into his identity without sounding alarming.

Not knowing what else to do, I watched Alec and wondered if I should finally consider talking to Lancelot, so that I could ask him about his reasons for suspecting that this person was the former prince. But it seemed like it was already too late for that. Like the way I pretended not to know him, Lancelot did the same. Days had passed, and I hardly saw him. I mostly hang out with Esme, getting information from her as much as I could.

Alec asked, trying to break up the tension, "Is there anything that I can help you with?"

"Do you need some help?" the words sloppily came out of my mouth.

He laughed. "Thanks. But it's fine, Cassandra."

I wanted to smack my head, embarrassed. For a moment, I forgot that I was actually a girl right now. Instinct had taken over me. That was how I usually responded when asked by someone who was chopping woods, especially at our camp.

"I was just kidding," I covered up.

"You're funny," he said. "Did you say goodbye to your friend before he left?"

"My friend?"

"Lancelot."

"He left?" I was surprised to hear this.

Alec nodded. "He didn't tell you?"

"Where did he go?" I asked in confusion. I sounded too concerned. Hushing down my queries and keeping sight of my real mission, I brushed it off, "Never mind. It must be one of his business trips."

"He's quite busy," Alec agreed.

I nodded, impassively.

It was true that Lancelot was preoccupied these days. I often saw him go out during uncommon hours, still wearing that black hood. A greater part of me wanted to scold him for it and tell him to wear something that didn't attract attention. He could get in danger because of it.

"I heard a lot from Esme," I started, wondering if now was the right time to bring it up. Setting aside Lancelot's matters, I focused on Alec. I should get this done today. Only a few days were left before the appearance of the crescent moons.

"Heard what?" Alec gave me his attention for a while, waiting.

Clearing my voice, I continued, "I was intrigued with your story."

"My story?" he repeated, twitching his brows again.

That was his mannerism, I figured. "Esme told me that you were abandoned when you were young."

"You talked about it with my grandmother?" He appeared to be offended.

"Was I too rude?" I asked, trying to hide the worry in my voice. "I'm sorry."

"Hmm." Alec's face turned deadpan, but you could tell that he was thinking.

I blew it.

It seemed like he wasn't ready to talk to me about it. He had all the reasons to. I figured that since Esme seemed to be readily willing to share things about her life, it would also be the same for her grandson.

That wasn't the case.

"It was true, though," his reply came about.

I was astounded that he actually answered, seeing a glint of chance. With caution, I deliberately asked, "Do you remember why?"

He started chopping woods again.

I focused on the ring underneath my silk gloves. How much more could I tell Alec without the ring acting up? And how much more could he tell a stranger like me? I didn't want to sound pressing, so I assured him, "You don't really have to answer it. I was just wondering—"

"It was unusual."

"My question?"

"That someone will ask me upfront about it," he replied.

"Nobody did before? How about your friends here in Wedgemore? They never asked about it?"

"I have a few friends here. Most of them I knew since I came here. Or like you said—" Alec paused.

I waited for him to continue.

"—abandoned."

"Did you know why you were left here in Wedgemore?" I asked him.

For a moment, he didn't answer. Alec's eyes were resolute, slowly building his guard up. Great. Not only did I start to act suspiciously, but I completely lost those friendly glances he used to throw my way. His sudden interest on such an unusual girl like me turned into watchfulness.

"Do you know me?" he unexpectedly asked.

I hurriedly shook my head in denial. "I don't."

"It sounds like you do," Alec said.

"Did I?" I only repeated.

"What were the possibilities of you knowing my prior identity before I was thrown here?" he questioned.

"I have no idea."

"I've always wondered," Alec deliberated. The hardness in his dark eyes gradually faded away, for some reason. But then, he left his words like that.

A while passed, still, there had been no sign that he was willing to continue. Not anymore. He scratched his collar bone, and only he knew what was keeping him from sharing what was going on in his head right now.

"How old were you back then?" I asked him instead.

"Truth is," Alec said, putting down his ax and reaching for a towel. He wiped away the beads of sweat on his face, before he continued, "I really don't know."

"A baby?"

"Young enough," he answered. "But I should have remembered at least my age back then."

I kept on guessing. "You didn't?"

"Grandmother said I was no more than five years old."

"Maybe that's the reason," I said to him.

"It's not just my age," he said, looking defeated. "I don't remember anything."

I was taken aback. "Not even a single thing? How about your parents?"

"I have no memory past the childhood I spent in this inn," Alec Gaunt confessed.

"That's..." I felt a sudden headache coming in. How could it turn out like this? It would have been easier if he could remember that he was once a part of the royal family. Just a single memory that he once lived in the castle would be suffice.

"Sad and unfortunate," Alec finished for me.

"How about those who left you here?"

"According to those who had witnessed, they said that it was the town guards. It was late at night and they couldn't tell which way they came from or where they had gone back after," he replied. Alec bundled the pieces of woods on the ground. "That's all we heard about."

"Were you alone when they left you?"

"Yes," he said.

Alec was heading to the storage, piling up the bundle of woods. I continued asking, "Have you tried asking more about it?"

He looked over his shoulder. "No. I'm satisfied with my life right now. Thanks for the unusual worry, though. You seemed to be genuinely concerned."

I was flustered. "It's not that but—"

"Really, thanks, but I'm happy here. I don't have a reason to search for who I was before. I have no idea why I'd been exiled or who my parents were or if it was because of them that I was thrown here," Alec told me, the fight going out of him. He openly looked worn out just thinking over the idea.

It was because his parents were ruthlessly killed by the king. That was probably the reason why he was exiled. But how come, I suddenly thought, how come Henry didn't slay Alec Forthwind?

I realized that things would have been easier if Henry had also killed him. In that way, he didn't have to fear that I would find the owner of the seal someday, and the probability of obtaining that sword that could put an end to his life—that one thing he feared. What more should I know about this mysterious seal and Keira Lockwood's spell?

"Have you heard about the Forthwinds?" I mustered up the courage to straightforwardly ask him.

There was no more time left. The appearance of the crescent moons was only a few days away. It was unacceptable for Alec to feel this way, no matter how selfish it might have sounded.

Yes, he didn't know. He couldn't even remember. I wished that I could tell him right now how he could help save this fallen kingdom. If I wouldn't be able to convince him, Henry would continue his rule for who knew how long. Would it be better if he knew these things? Would those reasons be enough for him to change his mind and help us?

I could only try.

"Forthwinds?" Alec echoed back.

"Yes, the family of the former king," I answered.

He thought about it. "Yes, I've heard of them."

"What if I tell you that you're related to them?" I said, waiting for his reaction. How would he take this?

Alec stiffened, staring at me like I'd gone mad.

"What if you are?" I said again.

"Look, Cassandra," he said, placing the last bundle of woods on the pile. With a deep breath, he threw his towel over his neck, holding it on both ends. "I don't really know why my abandonment concerns you a lot. I don't even understand the reason why you should care, evidently far more than I do."

"Listen, I know that you're thinking that I have gone nuts," I tried to explain.

"No," he said, firmly. I held back my words, rehearsing them in my head as I listened to what Alec was saying. "You can't go around randomly telling other people that they're related to the Forthwinds. It's unthinkable, to be honest. And more than improbable, it's dangerous."

Of course, I knew that. "That's what I'm saying. I'm risking a lot telling you these things."

"Cassandra, you can't be too lenient with your words," Alec finally said. "I'm out of here. My grandmother might be eager to tell you stories, but I'm not really interested to hear all these—"

I didn't listen to the rest of his words. Grabbing his arm, I pulled him back and made him face me. "What if you're the missing prince?"

"What madness are you—"

"No," I firmly replied, holding to the end of his right glove. Pulling it from his hand, I asked, "Alec, what if you're a Forthwind?"

~Author's note~

All right. There's been a glove pulling and all. 

Please, please support the story by voting for the chapter or leaving a comment below. Greatly, greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading. ❤