KISMET ─ vento aureo.

◂ ⁺ ★ PART TWO

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎

╌ ✧ ╌

 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐖

★˚⋆ PERHAPS THE LAST THING RIKIEL WANTED was to be in the same room as Donatello. He didn't much care for the eldest prince, Imperial loyalty be damned. His half-brother never failed to stifle him, whether it was the off-putting designs and prototypes he surrounded himself with or his own abrasive personality. To tell the truth, Rikiel thought he was even worse of a designer than he was a prince, and he was already a rotten prince. It was just that no one had the guts to tell that to him to his face.

Not that he would've listened, with how far up his ass his head was.

Donatello was positively giddy tonight, and that happened to be one of his most dangerous moods. If it were up to him, Rikiel wouldn't have come to Zero's banquet to begin with. Zero was just as shitty as Donatello. It made sense that they were friends.

Rikiel had already been sitting in Donatello's room for ten minutes and his brother hadn't said a word. He just kept fiddling with his tablet and smiling to himself. It was starting to piss Rikiel off. If Donatello was going to force him to the Hub, he could at least let Rikiel go off on his own so he could drink himself senseless.

"What do you want?" Rikiel snapped finally. He said it to the large scarf hanging on the wall by Donatello's head though. His anger tended to dissipate into embarrassment whenever he looked at his brother straight on.

"I can't spend time with my brother?" Donatello said. "The Emperor said that was important. Especially since there aren't many of us left."

Rikiel gritted his teeth. That's rich, coming from you. "What's important is looking for Giorno," he couldn't resist saying and narrowed his eyes at the way Donatello stiffened.

The way Rikiel saw it, Giorno preceding Donatello for the mantle of Crown Prince was the lesser of two evils. Giorno wasn't perfect, but he wasn't Donatello, and that was all Rikiel needed. Although he kept out of Imperial politics whenever he could help it, Giorno would always have his backing. People could say what they wanted, but who in their right mind wanted the galaxy to go to shit with Donatello leading it?

Behind both the Emperor and Donatello's backs, he'd been conducting his own search for Giorno. It was too silent out there. Suspiciously so. Giorno Giovanna was a prince and princes didn't just disappear, even if they had been blown to bits. Rikiel would've bet his arm that Donatello had had something to do with it. If he hadn't murdered Giorno directly, he would have done the closest thing.

"I don't know why you're still hung up about that," Donatello said, his shoulders relaxing. He slipped the tablet he'd been working on under a folder and turned his attention to a sketchbook—filled with more awful fashion designs, probably. "Giorno was a sweet kid, but he's gone now. We need to focus on ourselves."

"You act like he's not the Crown Prince." They were hitting all the beats of this already worn-out argument. Rikiel hated how flippant Donatello had been about the Eos crash and told him whenever he could. Half brother or not, he could have at least pretended to mourn Giorno.

"Was," Donatello corrected. "I'll be the Crown Prince in a few weeks. It was a lapse of judgement on the Emperor's part to give the title to Giorno. He only wanted to please the people."

On the contrary, Rikiel thought making Giorno the heir was the smartest decision the Emperor had ever made.

"I wouldn't get too comfortable," Rikiel said tartly. "We're going to find him. And then people will wonder why you never seemed too worried about this whole situation."

Donatello turned in his seat. His eyes narrowed and in that moment, he looked an awful lot like the Emperor.

"What are you accusing me of?" he said, his voice dangerously low.

"I think you know," Rikiel answered.

"I would give up on this if I were you. Leave the past in the past. Giorno is dead. I am the Crown Prince. I intend to mould this galaxy the way I wish. If you get in my way, your title will not protect you, Rikiel."

Rikiel met Dontello's gaze steadily, even though his insides churned. Donatello had always been the most arrogant of the brothers. The Emperor himself had taught him that.

All at once, Donatello's harsh expression dropped and he went back to his sketchbook. "I met Passione at the banquet," he said offhandedly. "Wonderful group. They managed to get a job from Zero, if you can believe it. I think I'll arrest them and have them killed. I've never liked them."

"Passione got the job?" Rikiel said, straightening.

"They're probably gone by now. I'd check my things. Make sure they didn't steal anything. Their audacity never fails to surprise me."

Rikiel kept his tone carefully neutral. "Do you know where they could have gone?"

"Planning on going after them?"

"I just want to make sure they don't try anything."

"That's very chivalrous of you," Donatello said, chuckling. "Don't want the people to catch you lacking in your duties?"

Rikiel rose to his feet. "Something like that."

"Check the bars. Lowlifes love going there. Just try not to get your neck snapped. I don't need two dead brothers, now."

Donatello's grating laughter followed Rikiel as he left his room. He didn't let himself react until he was well away.

Maybe he was being optimistic, but he had a feeling Passione would help him find Giorno. Sources had told him that Zero had his eye on a Stand arrow—one that, incidentally, Giorno too had been looking for. It seemed like too much of a coincidence not to check in on.

If Passione was going after a Stand arrow, the odds seemed high that they would stumble upon some trace of Giorno in the process.

It might have been a stretch but it was all Rikiel had right now. If that bastard Giorno was out there, he needed to find him.

Stars, did he need to find him.