Winter Affliction

Part 4

With time comes a certain measure of maturity. Alver had learned how not to fall into his worst impulses and to control the hormones that heralded his growth.

Even when he received yet another threatening letter from his would-be fiance, Alver didn't feel angry or annoyed. He actually felt rather guilty over his immaturity the previous year.

Alver had realized something he had missed in his own self-centered emotions regarding his engagement with Cale Henituse. He didn't have to marry Cale and he didn't have to even like Cale but he certainly didn't need to create an adversarial relationship with him.

In fact, a poor relationship with the Henituse family wouldn't benefit him at all or benefit any of his future aspirations. As the older and more mature of the pair, it was best if he bridged the gap and befriended Cale.

Although it was perhaps best to approach a stance of non aggression before he even considered broaching anything approaching a friendly relationship.

Alver's end goal was to use his significant skills as a negotiator and politician to reach a truce between them. Perhaps even as intimate as a friendly acquaintance. Until the time he was able to annul this ill-conceived engagement, it was best to utilize this opportunity to create an alliance with the Henituse family.

If he was skilled enough, perhaps he could even persuade them to reconsider their neutral stance.

The news reached him when he was about halfway to the Henituse territory, imagining all of the ways he would mend the burnt bridges with his silvertongue.

The words died inside of him.

Just as did the soft smile of a woman who called him cutie and treated as kindly as she would her own son.

Alver didn't cry.

The shock of the news numbed any reaction to her death.

Alver sat alone for a long time, wondering when the last time he'd spent time speaking to countess Jour Henituse had been. He'd felt too ashamed to face her after the incident with Cale last year so his memories of her from the previous year were sporadic at best.

There was really only one memory of her that was so strong that it permeated above the horrified shock and blooming grief he was experiencing.

And in one horrifying moment he remembered his cruel wish at that time.

He hadn't meant it.

He really hadn't meant it.

Logic attempted to dissuade his fears that he was somehow responsible for this tragedy. Superstition and guilt won out though and Alver knew from the very core of his being that it was all his fault.

He hadn't even considered at the time what such a wish would mean in reality, he'd just felt so wretched and bitter. And Cale...

Alver's heart sank.

Cale.

It was a poor time to remember his young face stained with tears and wrought with fear. Every petty resentment he'd ever had for the child melted away with the realization of his loss. Cale was younger than Alver was when he lost his own mother.

Shit.

Was he crying? Surely the count would comfort him, Deruth was nothing like Zed and Cale's situation was nowhere near as precarious. He wouldn't be alone.

The thought offered no true comfort to his aching heart. In the past few years spending the wintertime with the Henituse family, Alver had never once wished to get there faster even when his travels were uncomfortable or when he missed the warmth of the count and countess.