Bren had been the one to receive the invitation from the mail and in only a second everyone in the house had known about it. He screamed loud in the wee hours of the morning, "Maaaaa, moooom, motherrrr."
"What? What?" Raymona ran out of her bedroom, clinging onto her house robe. "What in the world is your problem, child," she let go of her robe and smoothed out her hair, walked over to the banister, and looked over the railing.
Bren waved up the letter and the envelope in separate hands at her, "Look at this! Guess what it is?"
Raymona squinted then tried to clear her sleep ridden eyes by blinking and rubbing at them. "Well, it better be important enough to disturb everyone."
Ethan, who’d scrambled out of the kitchen, spatula in hand as if it could be used as a weapon, didn’t need Bren to say. The bright red wax seal on the envelope was answer enough and by the widening of her eyes, he could see that Raymona realized it herself. Holding up the bottom of her nightgown, she ran down the stairs and yanked the letter from her son’s hand. A smile spread from cheek to cheek on her face. Ethan scooted in a little closer to try to read what it said, he couldn’t, not unless he was close enough to look over her shoulder. Instead, he waited to see if she’d share the contents.
"Ethan," she turned to him. "That unnecessarily big physic of yours has finally paid off." Right when she was about to say more, the door to the chicken coop opened, revealing Vergil attempting to tip toe into the house. His hair and clothes were mussed and his cheeks were flushed from drinking, he stopped and looked at them frozen in place. There did appear to be shame enough in him to not always walk through the front door after all. Amazing, truly.
"Oh, mama, you’re awake. Is there another beast on the loose?" he chuckled awkwardly.
His mother stomped over to him while twisting the letter into a roll. The newly crafted weapon was repeated whacked against his head, "You’re the only beast on the loose!"
"Ack, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, okay? What are you even hitting me with?" He grabbed his mother’s hand, stopped the assault, and took the letter from it. "Oh, how nice, a ball."
"A ball?" Ethan exclaimed excitedly. They hadn’t been to a ball since his father was alive, his stepmother said they were too frivolous and only an excuse for gossiping. That seal meant that the invitation was personally sent by the king and queen, they had to go.
Bren jumped and swung an arm around Ethan shoulders, "We’re moving on up in the world and it’s all thanks to this reckless idiot. You’re finally good for something," he twisted his fist against his head. Ethan pushed him off with enough force to cause the boy to stumble.
Vergil handed the letter back to Raymona, "If that’s all he’s good for then I suppose you better start: preparing your own three daily meals, doing your own laundry," he began to list off his fingers but was promptly pushed before he began with the third thing. "Don’t start with me, I’ve a massive headache."
"Don’t start with me," Bren screeched. "You’ve only done that to yourself with your who-"
"Enough!" Raymona interrupted. "We will not use that language in this house and the three of you will not start fighting." Vergil and Bren crossed their arms and separated from each other, still angled in such a way they could send antagonizing glares. Ethan didn’t bother defending his lack of involvement, it would only incite her ire further. "The ball will be in two days, make sure you’ve your proper suits prepared. I will not have you looking unpresentable," she looked particularly at Vergil when she said this.
Vergil gasped. To prevent laughing at his dumbfounded expression, Ethan coughed into his hand. "You can’t possibly mean for me to go?" He gestured down at himself, shirt partially untucked, buttons done wrong and only half way up, trousers buttoned but not zipped, one sock missing, lipstick smeared on exposed skin, and plenty more.
The most frustrating part was despite the bruise colored circles under his eyes, the unusual paleness of his skin, and the way his clothes hung too loosely from the weight he’d been losing, he was good looking. Though Ethan didn’t like using the word for men, ladies often referred to him as beautiful, ‘a divine beauty.’ It was nearly true. But he knew exactly who Vergil was and he was most assuredly not divine. That handsome exterior couldn’t hide his hedonism and debauchery. Vergil was the very man fathers warned their daughters about.
"I don’t suit balls and they most certainly don’t suit me. With their stuffy, pretentious, formalities, and you know they’d all look at me like I’m a shameless…" Vergil looked over at Bren and glowered at him. The boy only smirked with a raise eyebrow back at him.
"Maybe you can finally use whatever skill," she said the word with a curl of her lip. "You have that attracts women, to obtain the princess’ hand in marriage."
Vergil choked on his spit with a cough, "Now I KNOW you jest, mother. Marriage is number one on the list of things that I would destroy the sanctimony of just by virtue of my existence, but marry a princess. Of all women? I wouldn’t even bed her if she begged me."
"Must you speak so inappropriately?" Ethan scorned. "Of the princess no less? She isn’t the type to even look in your general direction.
"Look ma," he pointed at Ethan, amused. "It seems as though someone already fancies the princess. And I’m sure for the knight in shining apron who saved her, she’d be more than willing to get down on one knee herself."
"You’re the oldest, responsible for this family, and the man of the house, you will start acting like it!" With a finality she stormed up the stairs to her bedroom and slammed the door.
"‘Man of the house’ not like I chose to be born, I should at least get to choose the way I live."
"Don’t act like you don’t," Bren complained.
"Shut up, rat," then before his brother could respond with violence, he left to his own room, mirroring his mother's abuse of the door.
Bren looked at Ethan and gestured in the direction Vergil had gone, "Why must it be about who’s older? Not like anyone could look at him and be able to tell anyways." Probably the only time Bren actually had a good point. "Out of the three of us, I’m more likely to be able to court the princess," he placed his fists on his hips and grinned smugly. Now that was pure delusion. Much more like him.
"It would be fun to see you try," he laughed under his breath. Much like his brother, he had a nice face. While Vergil was beautiful, he was pretty-faced. At only 18, he still hadn’t lost his baby fat around his rosy cheeks, his eyes were big and round, and he had the energy of a puppy. He was about as smart as one too. The princess was more likely to find Bren adorable and if he pushed it, maybe endearing in a little brother sort of way. Or a small, cute rodent.
Bren laughed, "You bet." Then he stopped laughing, "Hey!" But Ethan was already walking back into the kitchen.
A ball, Ethan day dreamed as he continued with breakfast. It was so last minute he didn’t even know if he had anything he could wear. It’d been so long since he’d been in need of a suit that he’d grown out of the one he had. Then he remembered his father’s belongings in the attic. His stepmother hadn’t been able to sell anything even though the extra coin would have been appreciated. Good thing, because his father had one suit that would be perfect for the occasion.
Breakfast had been a bit of a struggle. Normally, when Vergil came home drunk or hungover and dead tired -which was most of the time- he let him sleep in and then fed him when he woke. However, he was uncertain how long it’d take to rummage through the boxes. The last time Ethan hadn’t been able to make him food Vergil slipped into the kitchen by himself and ended up getting a burn. Ethan, who’d been away, came home to Vergil sobbing and the kitchen a mess. Sure, this had been years ago, a fact Vergil defended himself with whenever he brought it up, but Ethan had been careful ever since.
Vergil was sound asleep when he came into his room with food. Ethan placed the tray on his bedside table then gently roused the man. He stirred and looked drowsily at him, curled up in a ball.
"I brought you food."
"Mm," he propped himself up on his arm. Ethan sat down beside him on the bed and moved the tray to his brother's lap. With his eyes closed, Vergil ate his food, agonizingly slowly, and whenever food fell from his fork Ethan quickly caught it with a napkin. He tried not to get frustrated, as this was a decision he made, but he hadn’t realized it was possible to be anymore bothered by him.
"You’re a good boy," Vergil mumbled as Ethan was leaving the room. He held back his tongue; it wasn’t worth making his stepbrother angry. An angry Vergil really only meant getting the silent treatment, but his stepmother despised problems between the three of them. Somehow, it was always Ethan who got blamed for starting it. Whether it was Raymona or his father, he was marked the biggest antagonizer, as if Bren wasn’t right there.
Vergil was the eldest and supposedly the head of the family. Despite that, he spent his days fooling around and allowed his mother to walk all over him. As long as her orders didn’t interfere with his lady time, he followed them. Not to say he’d like Vergil to make decisions for him, but most likely he would leave everyone to their own devices. Growing up he never bossed them around like he’d heard other older siblings would do. If Vergil had put his foot down, he’d not to go to the ball, and Ethan could do whatever he felt like. Him not going would definitely be a blessing for everyone.
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