Julien continued watching Theia throughout the festivities.

He watched her bring the tourtie out, he watched her talk about Lannon’s love of dogs with Andrew, and he watched as she engaged in a hushed but heated conversation with Irina, a strained smile on her face as she tried to maintain decorum.

Irina…

She was at ease, as though whatever conversation they were having was the least of her worries, but he knew that couldn’t be true. No matter how neutral she pretended to be, he knew she was just as confined as the rest of them.

She was here for a reason.

The only question was what that was.

Julien took a sip of his apple cider and balked.

It was supposed to be non-alcoholic.

Frowning, he checked the bottle. It was.

Auntie…

She must’ve slipped something into it.

Julien’s eyes briefly met hers, and a wisp of a smile played on her face as he looked away first. Putting the glass down, he fiddled with his thumbs.

I think I’m gonna be sick.

He furrowed his brow and watched Nevaeah, trying to take his mind off of the queasy feeling. She and Lannon were taking turns playing tug-of-war with the pup. Her vibrant blue braids hid part of her smile, but she was unmistakably having more fun than he was at that moment.

He looked away.

He felt simultaneously better and worse.

Julien thought about asking for her help—and he knew she’d do it at the drop of a hat—but he couldn’t bring himself to drag her into his family issues when she was so… happy.

Even if all anyone else did was lie.

He picked at his food, his eyes drifting to Loretta who was busy setting up the next round of activities after dinner, her hair becoming increasingly frazzled as the night went on.

Then, his eyes fell on Andrew and he… 

Julien’s eyes lingered on the dark silhouette stationed by the open window nook.

Andrew was shrouded in shadow just beyond the curtains, staring out into the night without interacting with anyone. Julien couldn’t tell if he was simply waiting for the time to pass, or if he genuinely enjoyed the night sky more than the company of others.

He still wasn’t sure what to make of him.

He wasn’t sociable, he wasn’t flexible, and he wasn’t even useful.

What was so special about you?

And after his failure to get rid of him, how was Julien supposed to rope that quiet, socially awkward behemoth into defying his sister to prove a point?

He continued scrutinizing the man from head to toe, not caring how obvious he was being.

He knew that if he called out to him, the man would respond—albeit awkwardly—but just like with Nevaeah, Julien didn’t want to.

Though, for fundamentally different reasons.

He forced himself to look away, shifting his attention to what he already knew, and what he didn’t while fiddling with a stray tomato on the surface of his plate.

First, he needed to know exactly what Andrew was promised and what he was meant to do in return. As a bodyguard, the most obvious thing was protection—though it was more like puppy-guarding—but that couldn’t be all there was to it.

He wasn't talking about how Andrew took care of his breakfast either—though that could’ve also just been a him thing.

I just want ‘something.’

Unfortunately, getting any information from anyone involved would be close to impossible with how he knew his sister to be—and he couldn’t even glean anything from their interactions because they just didn’t interact—at least, not in front of him. Not in any meaningful way.

She’s thorough.

And while that’s something he usually admired in her, he despised it when he was the one caught in the crosshairs.

He put a piece of ham in his mouth, chewing through his thoughts.

Since that route wasn’t possible—he glanced at Andrew again despite himself—then he had no choice but to go back into the field and confront the evasive fucks he called ‘family’ for another, more dire reason.

Because now, the main house might be involved.

Julien readjusted, discreetly eyeing Theia and Irina’s battle of wit as he gnawed on his fork.

He didn’t want to talk to either of those women again if he could help it, at least not today, but he’d much rather know what he was dealing with sooner rather than later.

For instance, what was he being protected from, and why now? Did it have something to do with his aunt’s disrupting presence here, or were they completely unrelated?

He glowered at his aunt, analyzing her every move.

Irina, being the self-serving dog she was, only showed up when she needed something—and more often than not, that was as a messenger for the main house. Getting involved with them was complicated for a number of reasons, but when it came to his new guard, it threw the man’s loyalties into question in ways he just couldn’t allow.

And he’d rather clear that suspicion first before he allowed himself to continue playing house with the guard-dog from hell.

Julien put his fork down and leaned back in his chair. Picking absentmindedly at his fingers, he took a deep breath.

He was just spinning his wheels here. If he wanted answers, he had to move, and there was at least a 50/50 chance he could get a hint to one of them if he asked Theia the right way—he never even considered his aunt.

He trusted her about as far as he could throw her.

So Julien waited.

He watched as their hushed argument slowly drew to a close until finally, after what felt like an eternity—Theia separated from Irina. Julien’s chair scraped against the marble floor as he rose to follow.

Theia entered her bedroom and Julien leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed. She turned, a moment of surprise crossing her face before she covered it with a composed smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

That shift in demeanor reminded him of their earlier exchange, and only then did he register how they’d left their last conversation.

An inkling of regret tickled the back of his mind, but he shook it off. Looking at her now, she seemed almost relieved, as if convinced he’d come to see her point of view already.

Of course, that wasn’t the case.

She’s confident she’s already won.

“Cadet, what do you need?”

“I came to ask you a few questions.”

She paused, then continued with what she was doing, her relief shifting into something unreadable. Annoyance, maybe.

“I thought we were done. Go on then.”

Her face stayed neutral.

“Will you answer me if I ask you directly what Andrew’s purpose is? And I’m not talking about your version of ‘protection’ either.”

She gave him a lightless smile.

“Purpose? Why, it’s the same as everyone else’s isn’t it? Make money, live peacefully?”

She closed a drawer and walked over to the doorway.

Julien ran a hand through his hair, mildly annoyed.

So that’s a no.

Expecting an evasive response, he drew in a slow breath and tried again—a whisper nearly drowned out by the sounds of laughter from the other room.

“Then what if I asked what you were thinking?”

She shut the bedroom door behind her and raised the deck of cards in her hand.

“I was thinking poker might be a good way to end the night.”

Julien shook his head.

“No, what were you thinking, getting in contact with the main house?”

The question invoked a tense silence between the two of them.

The number one complication with getting involved with them was that they always cashed in ten-times the favor you asked of them—whether you actually asked or not.

Then there was the ‘non-interference’ agreement between Theia and the head that prevented them from heavily influencing his life specifically—something he was forced to pay for with mandatory family meetings every few years if he wanted them to leave Theia alone too.

It was a problem that affected the both of them, and it wasn’t a meeting year either.

If Theia could tell him—even as a lie—that his bodyguard was the result of conflict between her and the main house, that, at least, was a reason he was willing to accept beyond the usual ‘You don’t need to know.’

But she wouldn’t even do that.

Theia scanned his face.

“So it’s a different issue this time.”

She leaned against the opposite doorframe and looked in the direction of the noisy dining hall.

A long stretch of silence passed between them.

“It wasn’t my choice…They want to see you.”

Julien frowned.

So this topic—isn’t—off limits.

His mind whirred as he fit the new information into the puzzle that was coming together in his head.

If she was sharing this much, then was the bodyguard situation unrelated after all? Or, was it that even if they were related, it wouldn’t be enough to draw any real conclusions?

He picked at his nails, a growing tension he wanted to relieve gnawing at him.

No matter what the answer, there was something more pressing than even that in front of him.

“Me? What do they want me for?”

She lowered her eyes.

“They want you to do research at the parent company before you graduate.”

He rubbed his temples.

“What for?”

She made air quotes.

“To ‘rebuild your image’ so to speak. They need someone from the direct line attached to this Raúl Collaborative Research Initiative. Supposed to be this ‘big thing.’”

She muttered under her breath.

‘It didn’t have to be you though.’

Julien uncrossed his arms.

“Is it not optional?”

She shook her head. Her mouth opened for an explanation, but she said nothing.

Julien’s frown deepened.

“I thought they were done after…”

He couldn’t finish that sentence.

Theia massaged her eyelids.

“I thought so too. Yet here we are.”

Julien looked away, rubbing the goosebumps off his arms.

One step at a time.

“Is this the reason you’re leaving?”

She clicked her tongue, a hint of irritation slipping into her voice.

“Now that you mention it, it just might be.”

Might be?

She looked at him.

“I’ll be gone in the morning, but they want you for the holidays.”

“Christmas.”

She gave a sheepish smile.

“Unfortunately, I can’t be there.”

Julien waved it off.

You’re never there when it counts anyway.

His heart panged.

He needed some time to process everything.

“Then while we’re here,”

He pushed himself off the wall and raked a hand through his messy rust-colored hair.

“Mind telling me where you’re going?”

He cracked his knuckles.

“Or do we have to do this the old fashioned way?”

She scoffed and stood up straight accepting his challenge. Cracking her own knuckles, she looked up at him.

“Space cadet Julien Amand Rubane of planetary line E4R7H… What insolence makes you think you can defeat me in a bout of fisticuffs?”

—

After a pitiful defeat, he dragged himself back to the main hall and settled next to Andrew. Julien didn’t say anything for a long time, and neither did he. But the man made space for him regardless, shifting to the side just enough for Julien to fill the space.

Considerate even at times like these huh?

He probably never felt a threat to his livelihood to begin with. Meanwhile, despite fighting the hard fight both literally and figuratively, Julien only managed to come back with a headache and a mere 3 new pieces of information:

He was needed back at the main house on Christmas.

Theia did send Andrew his way to protect him, if her reaction was anything to go by.

Though her methods could use some work.

And Andrew wasn’t there to keep tabs on him, at least, it wasn’t his priority.

Technically that was only two new pieces of information, but he felt better saying it was three.

But he still didn’t know the most important things.

Even if Theia hired him on her own, was he really not involved with the rest of their family? How much did the man know, not just about the ‘danger’ he was supposedly in, but about Julien himself?

His heart skipped a beat.

He couldn’t guarantee he wouldn't lash out should the man see something he shouldn’t.

Ignorance is bliss right?

Julien took a deep breath and asked his quiet ‘companion’ in a low tone, barely above a whisper.

“Didn’t you have something to do?”

Andrew looked down at him from the corner of his eye, then continued staring into the distance, his eyes growing unnoticeably hazier.

“Not anymore.”

Julien scrutinized his blank expression. Trying to decipher what the man meant half the time was like trying to translate code into a foreign language.

Except, you knew neither code nor the foreign language.

Julien chose to interpret his current brand of distance as longing until further notice.

He leaned against the railing and looked at the sky as well.

At least that, he could sympathize with.

The silence was a minor comfort for the storm boiling beneath the surface of Julien’s restless mind.