Tales after Dusk 05

She replaces the slightly somber look on her face with a gentle smile, obviously a bit off of her game as he caught her by surprise, "Yes, it is. I love looking up at the night sky."

Edmond strolls closer; for a commoner, he has managed to master the air and grace of a higher class. His suave sophistication adds to his handsome looks, brewing a force to be reckoned with, "I was speaking of you," his deep voice is thick.

Thorne rolls his eyes in exasperation.

Alecta snorts, her smile broadening as she breaks her gaze with the sky, "Oh you were, were you?" She finally turns towards him with her flirtatious grin, "I see I am not the only one who aims a little high."

Edmond laughs, choosing not to take her jab in offense, "A title is just a word, it is the person behind it that holds the merit."

She eyes him curiously, "Is that so? And what if I were a commoner and you a...Prince? What say you then?"

Edmond stops just in front of her, a little too close for Thorne's liking. The cool air from the garden blows through the open window but it does nothing to quell the burning anger on his face.

Edmond reaches for her hand, pulling it up to his lips, "Then there would be nothing stopping me from claiming you for myself."

Staring deeply into his eyes, her smile fades; though it was the most desirable answer, he isn't the person she wishes said it, "I think I will turn in. Would you care to walk me to my room?"

"It would be my pleasure," he says sweetly, wrapping her arm up in his.

As they disappear out of his sight, Thorne grows frustrated. He doesn't like the idea of Alecta catching another man's eye, though it would be impossible for her not to. Not only is she a true beauty but she is intelligent, funny, poignant and everything that he now finds desirable in a companion. A hundred years ago he might have been drawn to her physical appearance only to be immediately turned off by her crassness, her strong headedness and independence but now that he has gotten to know her, he can't imagine his life with anyone else.

Thorne hears them down the hall; he presses his chest against the corner wall, slowly tilting his head past it so that he can peer down at them.

Alecta stands with her back against her door, Edmond so close he is almost touching her. He holds her hand up to his lips, gently kissing it while gazing deeply into her eyes. He looks as though he intends to do more when her soft voice halts him.

"Until tomorrow, Mr. Carden," she says, almost sweetly. Before he can respond, she slips back through her door and gently shuts it behind her.

Edmond lingers there, as if to take a moment to process what just happened. What he expected is something Thorne doesn't even wish to guess at but he can't help but smirk at the confusion on the man's face. It takes a while though eventually Edmond turns and strolls down the hall towards the corner where Thorne is lurking.

Quickly, Thorne takes a few steps backwards so that by the time Edmond rounds the corner, it appears as if he is walking down the hall towards the stairs. He greets Edmond with a small nod, only to get a lovesick smile in return.

"Baron, your cousin is...quite something," he says in an infatuated tone, "I don't mean to pry but am I correct in assuming that she isn't...spoken for?"

Thorne halts in his tracks, looking at the man. He forces himself to mimic the somewhat smug smile that is always on Basil's face, though he feels like throwing a punch, "Lady Remington? Yes, she is quite special...though many have tried, none have succeeded. It would take a particular type of man to tame that woman."

Edmond smiles brightly, taking Thorne's warning as a challenge. He nods, "Good night, Baron," and leaves in high spirits.

As soon as his back is turned to the man, the smile fades from Thorne's face. He rounds the corner and walks to Alecta's door. Thorne raises his hand to knock but stops himself, unsure as to if he truly wants to see her or not. He waits a few moments, trying to decide before turning on his heels and leaving.

Thorne repeats this several more times over the next hour; by the time he makes his last attempt, the entire house has fallen asleep and remains eerily quiet. He finds himself standing outside her door yet again, hand raised to knock though stilled as he is unsure of himself. He turns to leave but instead gets up the nerve at the last second and opens her door, slipping inside her room unannounced and quietly shutting it behind him.

The room is dark, except for the dying glow in the fireplace just opposite the seating area. His heart pounds; he just snuck into a woman's room in the middle of the night. Never before has he ever done this sort of thing. Before he can turn and leave he quietly walks towards the open doors of Alecta's bedroom.

"It is late, you shouldn't be here Thorne," her quiet voice says, somewhat flatly.

Thorne stops dead in his tracks, trying to scan the darkness for Alecta, "How did you know it was me?" he whispers.

There is a small movement in the seating area before the fireplace, "You walk heavy like a horse. I can't believe it takes you five attempts before you decide what you want to do."

Thorne approaches the seating area; there, on the floor, propped up against a mound of pillows and tucked under a blanket, sits Alecta. The firelight reflects off of her silk night gown, her pale skin dull in comparison. Her ample brown hair is swept into a braid at her side and though her face looks tired, she seems more worn than usual. He kneels down next to her, peering at her face with worry.

"Are you all right? What are you doing down here?"

She finally turns her gaze to him; after a moment she replies, "Sometimes I just can't sleep in a bed. It is funny, really, that after spending the first part of my life sleeping outside on the dirt, considering myself lucky if I manage to find an empty crate to sleep in or a boardwalk to sleep under that I have problems sleeping comfortably," she returns her gaze back to the fireplace, "especially with a man tromping up and down the hallway for over an hour."

He tries to come up with a reason for his behavior but all he manages is, "You and Carden..." he fully expects her to be irritated with him, to talk down to him and chastise him for being so jealous but she doesn't.

Alecta looks down at her hands. Her face is blank yet he doesn't think she does it intentionally, he believes that she honestly doesn't know what to feel, "He is a nice man, for who he is. He is attractive, suave, sophisticated...but I'd be lying if I said that I desire his company as much as he blatantly does mine. However, being the brother of your future bride he seems to be a target that might prove useful."

Thorne rubs his face, "I--it's just that you're—too good of an actress," he finds himself at a loss for words, again. Never in his life has he felt so inept as he does when he is around her.

"Take your shoes off," she says, quietly, "before you wake the whole house."

He doesn't quite understand her reasoning, as he isn't walking anywhere at the moment but he knows better than to argue with her so he does as she says. After he removes them, she slides her body down under the blanket so that she can rest her head on the pillow before pulling back the corner for him.

Thorne's heart pounds—he is entirely befuddled. He waits for a moment until she finally pats the floor next to her.

"I can't seem to get any sleep with you pacing the hallways and apparently neither can you, so you might as well just stay here tonight."

Slowly, he slides under the covers. He is overly nervous, especially considering that he is still fully clothed; resting his head on the pillow, he faces Alecta and stares deep into her eyes. Neither of them talk for a while until he finally breaks the silence.

"I wish things were different," he says quietly.

"They would be much easier if they were," she replies.

"I have no desire to be king anymore," he takes a deep breath, "I just want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don't care where, I don't care in what situation, just as long as we can be together."

There is a glint of pain in her eyes at his words; though she wants to agree with him, leave town now and never look back, she knows that it isn't in the cards, "You owe it to this town, Thorne. Everyone here has forfeited a hundred years of their lives for you. We must succeed, defeat Carabosse. You will marry Talia and become King. You have to."

He feels a pang of guilt at her words—everyone he has ever known has made a sacrifice on his behalf. What she says is true, he owes it to them to overcome the nymph and become their King, so that their sacrifice won't have been in vain. But he knows there must be another way, some way that he can fulfill his duty to Briartown and his love of Alecta. "What will become of you?" he asks, though he isn't sure he wants to hear the answer.

Alecta knows she is in too deep to back out now, her heart has chosen its path. She tries to fight the urge but gives in. She scoots closer to Thorne, letting his strong arms wrap around her and hold her tight; she antagonizingly cherishes it. "After all is set right, I am...done. I have no desire to continue pretending or conning or scheming. I will have enough from my cut of the haul to find a quiet place and live out the rest of my life."

His heart pounds, the warmth of her skin against his is so hot it is almost burning. He has questions but he doesn't want to know the answers. Taking in a deep breath, he finally asks curiously, "Will you marry?"

When she doesn't answer, he tilts his head forward to find her eyes closed and her breathing slow as she is sucked into the realm of sleep. He sighs, resting his cheek against her head and breathing in her scent until he too drifts off.

Alecta feels as if her heart is breaking. She can't answer his question, because she doesn't want him to hurt as she does. Forcing herself to breathe deeply, slowly, she keeps her eyes closed. No, she thinks, there will never be someone else for me.

...

Thorne's back aches slightly as he stretches his arms out, finally opening his eyes. It takes him a moment to remember where he is but it all comes rushing back when he sees Alecta sitting on the couch above him. Fully dressed, with her hair half pulled back in perfect curls, she appears as if she has been awake for hours. She watches him, running her fingers across a blue velveteen coat.

He pulls himself up into a sitting position, suddenly worried that someone would catch him sleeping in his 'cousin's' room. Her soft smile calms him a little.

"Don't worry, it is still early. The only ones moving around are the servants. I snuck into your room and grabbed you some fresh clothes—it would probably be best if you weren't caught in my room wearing the same outfit as last night. You can change in the bedroom."

He nods slightly, not entirely sure what to say about their odd situation. Rising, he gathers up his clothes from the couch, pausing before Alecta. Though there is sadness in her eyes, he finds a burden lifted off of his chest because she feels the same for him. Thorne reaches a hand out and cups her soft face in it; she leans towards his touch, closing her eyes for a moment.

"You'd better hurry, we should get downstairs before anyone else does."

As they walk into the dining room, the servants setting out the breakfast spread seem to be a bit unnerved that they appeared so early. After bowing and greeting them, the servants move about quicker with more purpose. Alecta takes a seat facing the door and this time Thorne makes sure he takes the chair next to her. They begin to pluck at the food before them, moving bread and fruit from massive trays onto their own plates. They sit in silence, eating slowly as they wait for the rest of the guests to join them.

It is much to both of their dismay that Edmond is the first to arrive. With a bright, handsome smile on his face he makes a quick bow, before taking the seat across from Thorne. Before she can even wish him a good morning, Edmond begins a conversation, "What are your plans for the day, Lady Remington?"

He catches her a bit off guard yet she falls back on her second nature and pauses for a moment with a small, flirtatious smile on her face, "Well, Mr. Carden, the Baron, Count and I have to go to the tailor's to pick up our attire for the party."

He nods slowly buttering a piece of bread, "I see. Anything else? Perhaps your morning is free?" She stops to look at him for a moment, the odd smile still on her face; before she can reply, he adds, "I mean 'your' as in all three of you—you, my Lady, the Count and the Baron," he nods politely to Thorne.

Thorne nods back but makes sure he keeps his mouth full of food so that he doesn't sneer at the man.

Alecta sets down her fork, "Perhaps our morning is free, depending on what you wish to fill it with?"

He laughs musically, taking a bite of his bread, "My sister and the Prince plan to give a tour of the castle to our other siblings and my cousins, while our parents, and Uncle and Aunt take a brunch with the King and Queen. I told her that you were staying here and she is dying to meet you."

Alecta lets a large smile cross her lips; just as she is about to reply to Edmond, Basil walks in, "Oh, good news Count," she turns her attention to him.

"Is that so?" he smiles slightly, taking the seat next to Edmond.

"Yes, Mr. Carden has invited us to join him on a tour of the castle this morning," she says, giving him a look.

"Wonderful!" Basil replies with enthusiasm, "What say you, Baron?"

Thorne tries to smile and join in their excitement but he has no desire to return to his home as a stranger, "I don't wish to impose—it almost sounds as if your sister is solely interested in Lady Remington's company."

"Nonsense," Edmond says cheerfully, dispelling Thorne's pretend concern, "she told me to bring whomever I wish. And frankly," he lowers his voice, leaning forward and holding a hand to his cheek as if Alecta can't hear him, "between you and me, I could use a little male companionship, what with all of the women that will be swooning around."

Alecta lets out a perfect giggle, causing Edmond to join in.

"Surely, you would want the company of your future brother-in-law to yourself," Thorne says, stuffing some fruit into his mouth.

"See now, that's the odd bit," Edmond replies before he realizes it, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"Do tell," Basil compels him.

Edmond thinks on it a moment, "I don't wish to speak ill of any one."

"Oh come now, a little gossip keeps the blood flowing," Basil prods sweetly, luring Edmond in.

He turns towards Alecta, "Do you find me handsome?"

She chokes a little bit on her juice; after a few coughs, she glances at him, "It isn't polite to question the sensibilities of a lady," she slightly chastises, eyeing him sideways.

He smiles brilliantly, "No, please, this is just to make a point."

Alecta looks at him with a pouty frown, as if she doesn't want to answer his question, yet all she is doing is securing his affection of her. She tilts her head to the side, as if to examine his face until finally she lands her gaze into his eyes. Softly, almost breathlessly like they were alone, she finally answers, "Yes, I do find you handsome."

Edmond takes in a sharp breath, lost within her for a moment. He shakes his head briefly, cheeks turning red when he motions to Basil, "And the Count?"

"Of course I am handsome!" Basil says grandly.

Alecta laughs, "Yes, the Count is quite a looker."

"And your cousin?" He queries.

Alecta turns her gaze on Thorne, who is watching her closely. Though her face never waivers, there is a small sparkle in her eye, "Yes, I dare say he is."

"Right," Edmond says, "I'm not trying to be self absorbed or anything but I agree with you. I think I am an attractive man, and I would agree with your opinion that both the Count and Baron are handsome as well. The King is quite fetching and the Queen is almost as beautiful as you," he says, turning to Alecta, "Would you agree?"

She gives him a soft smile, "Yes, almost."

Edmond nods, "So my appraisal is spot on."

"Right," Basil confirms, trying to move his gossip along.

"Right," he repeats, "but the Prince...well, it is a bit odd, because he is none of these things. In fact, he doesn't look the least bit like his parents."

Thorne stops mid chew, his eyes finding Basil's. He winks at him, "So you are saying that he isn't a handsome man?"

He tries to word it gently, "Not in the conventional sense of the word...I would say he is more of an acquired taste. Honestly, I am surprised that Talia was able to find true love with him to wake him up."

"Oh but she must've," Thorne says, overly earnest. Basil and Alecta immediately pick up on his mocking tone, yet Edmond doesn't have a clue, "If she wasn't here for true love, why ever would she have come this far?"

Edmond presses his lips together in a tight smile, "It's the damnedest thing. I could have sworn she only made this trip so that she would have the wealth and stature. I guess I was wrong."

"Yes, you must be wrong," Thorne says reassuringly.

...

Thorne and Basil follow behind Alecta and Edmond on their way to the castle. Edmond, ever the gentleman, has Alecta's hand draped through his bent arm. Every now and then Thorne can catch a flash of a handsome smile, or a shy little giggle. He isn't entirely pleased about it at all and though he tries to pretend his general demeanor is rather negative.

As they enter the castle that he grew up in, he discovers that he is viewing it as a stranger; every open spot is decorated with a bouquet of fresh flowers, garlands or ribbons, giving the whole building a bright and upbeat feel. It is as if the castle itself is celebrating the upcoming nuptials.

They meet Talia and the faux Prince in the grand hall. He finds it odd to have to bow to the man who stole his identity but even more curious is that this Prince, though he looks nothing like Thorne, has been embedded with his memories.

Though the man is almost as tall as the rest of them, the Prince appears to be nothing more than a larger version of a boy; his thick trunk of a body is topped with a fat face, disheveled, mousy brown hair and pale skin. The clothes that had fit Thorne's body flatteringly enough to show the definition of his muscles, are now stretched to the brim around the squishy man. Despite his appearance, he looks upon his guests with an entitled air of superiority and slight distaste. As the imposter acknowledges the introductions, Thorne is somewhat appalled, not so much by the actual man as he is by himself because without regard to appearance, it is as if he is looking in a mirror. He finally begins to understand what the servants were talking about.

The cloud over his mood begins to lift and he is beginning to see a way out of his troubles—if this man has his memories, how is he that different from Thorne? There are only five living souls that know his true identity—the rest are just as content to call this man their Prince. After half of an hour of the tour, Thorne can't help himself when he stops before a large painting in one of the hallways—he knows it well, perhaps better than most, because it is his. Granted, he has a minimal resemblance to the painting now that he has had his beard shaven and his hair cut but there is just some amusing irony to the idea. The small metal plate below is engraved "Prince Thorin."

"He is my name sake," comes an uppity voice next to him.

Thorne turns to see the fat Prince, standing at his side, looking up at the painting. They are soon joined by Alecta, Edmond and Basil.

"Is that so, your highness? How is he related to you?" Thorne asks, briefly glancing to Alecta.