That next morning, everyone who saw Zalair was afraid to say anything to him at all. They just stared in silence, stunned by his clothes.
Hair not brushed, slightly fluffy like always, green clear eyes, and of course, bare feet. But, for some reason, Zalair was walking around wearing an actual Prince’s outfit. It was a cyan blue robe trimmed in black and navy. The shirt was elegant and smooth, and the pants were simple slacks. It had an elegant touch though, like his usual cyan attire.
But something was missing, and no one could dare say it.
No one, except King Yoh that is.
“Zalair… What happened to all your rubies?” King Yoh asked, staring at his son.
“Mm..” was Zalair’s unemotional and dull reply, then he walked on his way.
The servants looked after Zalair and then to the King, watching his eyes well up with tears. Apparently, Zalair’s never been that cold to him before.
Zalair hid himself in the astrological study for the rest of the morning. He would’ve stayed in all day if a servant didn’t come to get him.
“Someone’s come to see you, sire,” said the servant, leading Zalair to the front hall.
Zalair stared at the guest. It looked like Keigo, but it couldn’t be him.
Black hair? Check. Red eyes? Check.
But, for whatever reason, Keigo’s normally spiked all around hair was curled to his head. And he was dressed in a golden loose shirt, tied at the waist tight, with red baggy pants and sandals covering his feet well.
Zalair walked over, “Pardon… But who are you to see?”
Keigo’s glare set in. Check. “You, moron.” Foul attitude? Check.
“...Wh… Why are you dressed like one of the Shinto’s Priests from the south?”
“It was a gift from them,” Keigo explained without dragging any extra details.
“Why are you here?”
“To see you.”
“You said you wouldn’t be coming back, so I came here.”
Zalair’s mouth dropped wide open. “I said… That I won’t be marrying you, too…”
“SO FUCK OFF!!!” Zalair shouted, his patience snapped. He turned and walked in a huff back to the den.
Unfazed by the shout, Keigo just turned to the servant nearest him. “Where’ll my bedroom be?”
In a quick slam, the den door burst open. Zalair yelped, looking to the little boy standing in the doorway.
“Freak!” Zalair shouted, throwing a book at the child, “Learn to knock!”
The child caught it, and smirked. “Aw but that’s no fun~ Zally~” Zalair twitched.
The kid that stood there was Zalair’s least favorite sibling. Or rather, it was his favorite one. Lettale. He was almost thirteen, stood almost to Zalair’s chest, and had fine brown eyes and midnight hair. But Lettale was clever and intelligent, like Zalair, but he never saw a reason to master anything- not the books assigned to him, not the skills of the sword or the horse. Nothing.
“…Lettale… Why don’t you go bug someone else?”
“Aww~” Lettale whined, already in the room, looking around. “And here I hoped that other man was here!”
“What other man?” Zalair raised a brow. Lettale was from a different mother, but they got along well.
“You know, that tall one that just came.”
“Uh… So why would you think he’d be here?”
Lettale turned to look at him, “What? Didn’t he come just to see you?”
Zalair laughed, trying to urge the other out the door. “I think you’re a little delirious in the head. Why don’t you go read your books? Or better yet, rest. Out. Of. Here.” And Zalair shoved Lettale out the door and slammed it shut, quickly moving his back to the door to hold it shut.
“Aww! Zally!!! Let me in!!” Lettale shouted from the other side, banging on it. “Zally! Zally!” Silence for a moment, and Zalair was sure he was gone. Then it came. “Zally Airborne Flea!”
Zalair slammed the door open, shouting at the top of his lungs at his brother. “Stop calling me a freaking flea, you stupid piece of half grown lettuce in the shade!”
This went on for almost two minutes. Then Zalair hit Lettale on the head.
“Go bug someone else I said!”
“Waaah! Don’t be so mean to me!!!” Lettale cried, holding his head.
“I didn’t even hit you that hard!”
“You did so! WAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!”
“Sh-shut up!” Zalair panicked, trying to cover the kid’s mouth.
“I said shut up!” Zalair shouted again.
The crying continued.
Fed up, Zalair snapped his fingers and a bright red ball appeared in Lettale’s hands. The child stopped, staring at the ball.
“Go play with that!”
Lettale smiled his teary face up to Zalair and laughed. “Thanks, Zally!!” And he ran off down the hall, bouncing the ball the whole way.
Zalair watched him, then returned into the den, closing the door. He sighed heavily, falling back onto the comfortable sofa.
“I didn’t know you could do magic.”
“EEP!!!” Zalair jumped up, looking at the doorway.
Somewhere between the time of Zalair summoning the ball and returning into the room, Keigo had let himself in.
“What are you doing?” Keigo chuckled, “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack that way.”
“My mistake…” Zalair huffed, clutching his heart to stop its wild beating. “Wh…What do you want?”
“When’d you learn to do magic?”
“A while ago.”
“Of course.” Zalair answered, glaring at him. The uncomfortable silence that followed, ticked Zalair off quickly. “So… If you’re done, please leave.”
Keigo looked at the stack of open books. “So… What are you reading so intently? Constellations?”
“What of it?” Zalair crossed his arms.
Keigo sighed, “Look… I didn’t come to attack you… I came to apolo-”
Keigo looked up to the angry look coming from those green eyes.
“I don’t care how many times you apologize, or in what way.” Zalair stated flatly. “You’ll never, ever, get my forgiveness. And I will never ever listen to your half-assed apologies. Now,” He opened the door. “Get out.”
Keigo walked to the door, stopping in it to look at Zalair. “Can we talk tomorrow before I leave?”
“No.” Zalair booted Keigo out violently, slammed the door shut and then locked it.