Locked Legacies

Chapter XXIII: Where they come from

 It was not unusual for Faylinn to hurry across the palace all day long; she was assigned several tasks per day, for she was quick and effective. More so now that she had to get them done before spending time with the prince. The most common routes were from the kitchen to one of the storage rooms, to the wardrobe area, and to the royal family's chambers, in different order and connections. That is why her mother's petition called her attention.

The Langdon family, with the exception of Hector, were sewing and cutting cloth, as they did every day. Just as Faylinn's wrist pain led her to question every single life choice that had built up to those three straight hours of sewing, her mother interrupted her activity. "Darling, what is written here?" She asked, passing her a sheet of paper, which was apparently some kind of to-do list that was handed to her.

"Why don't I get asked?" Elias complained as if his pride had been hurt.

"Because you have the handwriting of a five-year-old, so Mama doesn't trust you to be able to read a simple sentence," Faylinn answered casually before looking down at the list.

Clarice, whose son was sitting on the floor right by her legs, stroked Elias' hair affectionately, "That's not true, my sweeting, you are a clever young man." He smiled softly at her, responding with a "Thank you"

"Update Your Highness Augustus' measurements for Prince Gabriel's upcoming celebratory ball," she read out loud, "That's what it says."

The boy rolled his eyes, "What are they even celebrating now?"

"Elias Langdon, show more respect!" His mother scolded, and Faylinn nudged him with her foot. "Archangel Gabriel's day is approaching, so there is a ball in celebration of the prince."

"How come we never celebrate?"

"We will when, by some miracle, you learn manners," Faylinn took her chance to tease him, getting a feeling of contentment, even if her mother sighed in defeat at her children's behavior.

"Regardless of our celebrations, or lack thereof, we will have to do as asked. So, Faylinn, dear, will you be so kind as to find Your Highness and escort him to the measuring room, please?"

"Again, why don't I get asked?" The boy repeated.

A smug smile was drawn on her features, "Maybe because everything doesn't revolve around you."

Nevertheless, her expression would be quickly erased by her mother's successive comment, which she said in a bit of a warning tone to her daughter. "No, because I heard that you have become quite acquainted with the Crown Prince, have you not?"

Her eyes widened. Elias' eyes widened too. "I'm sorry?" She mumbled, shocked to realize that her mother had found out. It was indefinite if she was in trouble or she was unbothered by the situation; though her tone wasn't the most comforting, it wasn't too alarming either.

"That Elias didn't make fun of you being in love with the prince with no backbone," she proceeded, "Perhaps he had a point."

Elias.

The eldest sibling kicked his brother's leg, who winced and complained in pain. "You dalcop, you not only told her, but you misinformed her! How many times do I have to explain that I never said anything about being in love!"

"I didn't, I swear!"

Their mother quickly interrupted, "He didn't. I heard you shouting the other day," she explained, "And you are lucky only I found out."

The young woman fiddled with her robe, a lump in her throat as the question formed in her head. "You... You won't tell Papa," She stammered, continuing with caution, "Will you?"