They arrived at the castle empty-handed save the two bead cases Adrian carried. The clothes would arrive in a week or so.

“Why’d we go shopping today anyway?”

Cassius shrugged, “You asked me what I wanted to do, this was it.”

“You just... wanted to buy me clothes?” He didn’t try to hide his confusion at the idea. Even for someone being nice, it seemed like a waste of a free day, especially considering said day would leave them with more to do in the days to come.

Cassius looked to Adrian, his gaze steady, “Yes.”

Adrian felt off balance, it was the same look of certainty he saw his first night with the prince. It unnerved him, yes, but he found himself burning in a way he hadn’t back then as well.

It was in that moment that Darrius came dashing down the hall, “Cassius, how could you?” he complained, much like a child who couldn’t get their toy back.

Darrius came to a stop before his brother and wrapped his arms around him. “You left so early in the morning! I wanted to spend your birthday with you!”

Adrian’s quirked an eyebrow, “His birthday?” The words sank in fully and he balked. He looked to Cassius, “Today was your birthday?!”

Cassius looked to him. “Yes, did you have fun today?”

“It’s your birthday, not mine.”

“Then answer my question,” Cassius countered.

“Well yeah, but--”

“Good.” Cassius shivered, still cold from outside, “I think I will take a bath. I will see you two in the kitchen.”

Cassius unlatched Darrius from his body and went off to his room, leaving the two behind.

Darrius wasn’t quiet for long. “Come on.”

Adrian followed curiously. “What? Gonna hit me for taking his birthday from you?”

“You threaten to break someone’s jaw once and he never trusts you again,” he groaned.

“Uh, yeah?” he muttered back.

“Remember my promise?”

Adrian scrunched his nose at the thought of it, “Still on that, huh?”

“You wound me. A prince’s word is all he has.”

“Exactly. A servant versus a prince. Not to mention, you could always heal whatever you do after. No one would believe me.”

Darrius stopped and thought about that, “You’re right.” The smile on his face held violent promise, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone. “Cass would know, though.”

Adrian rubbed at his chest, a bad attempt at calming his racing heart. “What are we doing anyways?”

“You’re going to help me finish his cake.”

“What? You made a cake?”

“I’ll pretend you didn’t ask with such surprise,” he muttered as he pushed a pair of doors open.

“Do your cooks even work around here?” Between the curry incident and this, it was getting hard to believe they actually had cook staff.

“They do, but this is special.”

“If it’s special then why are you letting me help?”

His voice was quiet and somewhat hesitant, “Because he spent the day with you.”

“And?”

“He wouldn’t spend time with you if he didn’t like you.”

“More like he was tired of lending me his clothes,” Adrian answered dismissively. “Cass is kind. There’s nothing else to it.”

“Yes, he is kind,” Darrius agreed.

Adrian noticed the twinge of jealousy in Darrius’s tone but said nothing. He had absolutely no intentions of getting in the way of the Darrius and his brother. Their relationship seemed normal enough, but it was clear that Darrius would be content if he was Cassius’s only friend.

Darrius reached into an icebox of sorts and pulled out a cake. The icebox looked nothing like what Adrian was used to, so he assumed something about it was magical. For one thing, there was no sand or sawdust there to keep things cool. The cake, on the other hand, looked perfectly normal with its white frosting and cookie decorations. It looked like something people would pay for. Darrius’s multifaceted abilities were started to irk him.

“I want you to write ‘happy birthday’ on it.”

“Why me?”

Darrius held out a bag of green frosting, some was already leaving out the cut tip. “Just do it.”

The bag felt squishy in Adrian’s hands and more went toward the table then the cake by the end of it all. The words were sloppy, but legible.

“I feel like I’m failing my teacher somehow,” he said to himself.

“I doubt Cass has such high expectations of you,” Darrius consoled. He gestured to the table and they both took a seat.

“How kind of you to point out,” Adrian rested his chin in his palm and tried to look anywhere but Darrius.

The kitchen walls were made up of wood and stone. Various utensils, pots, and pans lined the walls and hung from the ceiling. The wooden table they sat at was likely used for food preparations. There were a few stoves, but an adjoining room led him to believe that there was a lot more kitchen tucked away.

He wondered where it was that Cassius had made the curry he’d never gotten to try. He never saw the burns either.

“You really love your brother, don’t you?” Adrian asked. The question came of its own volition. Subconsciously, he desired something from Darrius, and he dare not think too hard on what that something was.

“I do,” he agreed.

“Then why did you give him me?”

“Why not?”

He clenched his fists, “Don’t dodge the question.”

“I’m not. From what I’ve heard, the only danger you pose to him is occasional stomach ache,” he smiled at Adrian, “Yes, I heard about the steak.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Oh? and what is it that I’m supposed to know?” Darrius’s fingers danced near the cake knife on the table, “Should I fear you cutting his throat?”

Adrian slammed a hand on the table, “NO!”

“Calm down, Addy,” the hand on the knife returned to his lap, “I’m not worried about violence. Cass is more than capable of defending himself...” Darrius’s laissez-faire tone changed, his eyes narrowed, “The question is whether or not he would defend himself...”

The two sat in silence as Darrius pondered his own inquiry. Darrius’s eyes flicked to Adrian. “Why are you so intent on forcing my hand?”

Adrian didn’t know why. Maybe it was the palace, or their lineage, or maybe it was the unrealistic situation he found himself in. Or maybe was the fact that for the first time in his life, he felt like the parasite.

He'd spent his life allowing people to take, take, take, but now, he’d found someone who only wanted to give. He didn’t know what to do with someone like that. As far as he was concerned until recently, there was no one like that. And now here he was practically begging a child to take from him. It was like he’d never left Senosolvia.

Darrius smiled serenely, “I wonder what you’ll do when he sets you free.”

Adrian bit his lip, “What do you mean by that?”

Cassius opened the kitchen door before Darrius could answer.

“Cass! We made you a cake!”

“More like he made you a cake,” Adrian muttered. He felt off balance. Darrius’s emotions flipped like the face of a coin making him hard to read.

Cassius walked over to the two of them and looked at the cake.

Adrian was sure he’d scold him for his handwriting, but instead, there a smile on his lips. It was small, but it was clear as day to him. It was so awkward and poorly executed that Adrian wanted to laugh, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was the fact that someone so privileged was unable to do what even he could manage within his room in Senoho.

“Thank you to both of you.”

Adrian half listened to the conversation. His thoughts were everywhere, they always seemed to end up like this whenever he spoke to Darrius. His age and mind didn’t add up. An eleven-year-old shouldn’t have the intellect of the man who controlled him.

He couldn’t taste the cake anymore. It suddenly felt too gritty on his tongue. He stood; the abruptness seemed to catch both brothers off guard.

“I’m going to bed,” he managed before nearly running out of the kitchen.

“Adrian!”

He quickened his step, hand over his mouth. Mixed with his thoughts, the texture was too similar to his memories.

A hand grazed his elbow, and Adrian jerked away. It was Cassius.

“I’m fine.”

“I thought we would be honest with each other.”

“This is different,” he argued.

“In what way?”

His calm tone helped Adrian relax but only slightly. “Memories. Just... memories.” He leaned a shoulder against the wall and rubbed at his face.

“I see.” They were only two words, but they said more than that. Cassius leaned on the wall as well with space enough between them before meeting Adrian’s unfocused gaze. “Memories are cruel, but... crueler still are other’s thoughts on your past and their desires for your future.”

Adrian couldn’t understand what he was talking about. He moved closer, his voice was just loud enough for the two to hear, “I need to do more for you, Cass.”

“What do you intend to do for me, Adrian?”

The frosting still felt thick on his tongue, not that, he couldn’t do that. He shrugged.

“Then continue to study and eat.” Cassius’s eyes accessed his figure, “We should be able to move onto swordplay soon enough. Horse riding starts tomorrow.”

He hugged himself tightly and nodded.

“Good,” Cassius looked up and down the halls before speaking again, “Are you alright otherwise? I cannot guard your mind, but I can protect you from those who would hurt you, including my brother.”

Adrian laughed but most of it got caught in his throat, too caged by his emotions to truly spill out. “Again, I feel like you have our roles a little mixed up,” his smile faltered.

He shrugged. “Even when you are capable of protecting me, I will protect you as well.”

“Princes shouldn’t bow to whores.”

The air around changed for the briefest moment. It felt cold, empty. Cassius’s voice burned, “Never call yourself that again.”

Adrian almost stepped back at the intensity of it, but he forced himself to stand there. Was this the closest Cassius would come to taking something from him? Taking away a title? His forced occupation?

He swallowed around the lump in his throat and willed his voice to obey him. He couldn’t think about this now.

“I’m going to sleep,” Adrian lied. He started to walk past Cassius, “Sorry you ended up wasting your birthday on me.”

“I would not call it a waste,” he said. He still had his shoulder against the wall, “I had fun.”

“We only bought things for me though,” he said as he kept walking.

“And it was fun.”

Adrian didn’t look back, afraid of what he’d see. No, he was afraid of what Cassius would see.

If Cassius had chosen to match his gate and follow him to his room, he would see the tears pricking at Adrian’s eyes. He would see them tumble down his face and hear the sound of air catching at his throat. He would see the way Adrian stumbled up the stairs and fumbled with his bedroom door. If he’d chose to press his ear to the door, he would have heard near manic sobbing.

He didn’t understand why Cassius made him cry. He wasn’t like his old Master. Maybe that was why.