Sparrow leafed through his book, yawning and not really noticing the actual contents. He sighed and ended up just closing the cover and resting his chin on the thick volume.
He had already taken his bath and dressed in one of his nicer suits. The chocolate brown one made for summer with short legs and sleeves, a white collared shirt, a staller, which was essentially a necktie with shorter ends but still tied the same, and the shiny black boots that nearly reached his knees. But now, he sat at the two-sided desk in his sitting room with the puffy white towel still draped across his head.
He looked up at Linnet, known as Linny to most everyone, who was curled in the chair across from him with a book in her lap. Her brow was furrowed intently and whenever she wasn’t using her thumb to turn a page, she was chewing on it absently out of habit. She was wearing the dress of a servant but since she was barely 8 yet (a few weeks younger than Sparrow), she didn’t do much serving, and as Miss Hatty’s daughter, she didn’t need to.
Both of her parents were of desert-dwelling descent, and her sandy skin and gold-brown hair, straight as a pin, betrayed that. But the shining green eyes bespoke the gypsy in her blood. Her mother’s father had been a Woodwalker.
Sparrow let out a bored sigh. “Vipers, Linny! You’re boring when you read!”
She held up a finger, her eyes raking across the page until she reached the end of her sentence. Then she looked up. “Hm?”
“I said you’re boring when you read!”
“Am not!”
“Are too! All you do is sit there and I have nothing to do!”
“You read too!”
“Only when the book is good!” he looked grumpily down at his headrest. “There aren’t any good ones left.”
Linny rolled her eyes. “There are loads of good books. You just can’t find them.”
“Well how come you can?”
“I’m just real good at it. There’re all either on the top shelves or hidden behind boring titles with big words. You just have to know how to spot’em.”
“You should teach me.”
She grinned. “Alright!”
This was how they functioned. Spiteful arguments straight to agreements to play or spend time together. It was an odd arrangement, but it worked for them.
Just as they had both settled back to their respective means of entertainment, the door glided open and a groomed and formally dressed Tarri leaned in with Miss Hatty lurking nervously behind him. “Come on Sparrow, let’s get it over with. The sooner we visit, the sooner he leaves.” Sparrow hopped down from the chair, leaving the towel on the seat.
He turned to look at Linny, “Race? Later?”
“Sure. Two o’ clock, don’t be late bird-brain.”
“I can be late all I want, adder-head, I’m the bleedin’ prince! ‘Sides, I’ll win anyway, whatsit matter what time I do it!”
“You will not!”
Sparrow had already been led out by the pair of amused adults but he popped back into the doorway to shout “Will too!” just before the latch slid closed. By the rules of arguing, or at least their rules of arguing, he had gotten the last word in and therefore, won.
He smiled triumphantly and marched ahead until he remembered where he was going. Then he frowned and slowed down so he fell behind the other two who were talking about whatever adults talk about in the presence of a child. Tarri turned when he noticed. “Ro?”
Sparrow had stopped walking and now stood staring at the shiny black toes of his boots with his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. His hair hadn’t been cut in a while and from the way it draped over his eyes it needed to be. Tarri knelt before him, brushing away the untamable locks from the burning eyes of his little brother.
“Sparrow, look at me,” He shook his head in reply. “Brother. I need you to look at me,” Sparrow looked up, slowly, angrily, features scrunched together, eyes flickering with and invisible inferno.
“I hate him,” he said. cold and level. “Father is nothing but nice to him, and he does little more than insult and attempt to gain footing for his own benefit. I hate him. He doesn’t deserve to be in father’s presence. He doesn’t belong here.”
Tarri looked his brother up and down. It was times like this where Tarri knew what a wonderful leader Sparrow would make. These were the times when Tarri saw who his brother could be.
And what his brother could do.
Tarri swallowed. "Sparrow, father has reasons for his behavior, I assure you. We need to trust him and follow his lead. Alright?"
Sparrow grunted.
“Brother, I need your word.”
Sparrow glanced up. Men gave their words. Was Tarri joking? No, his eyes were set. He really wanted Sparrow’s word. The little prince suddenly felt very important. He nodded, hair flopping, and tried to smile like a grown-up. It looked somewhat goofy, but Tarri smiled back.
They shook hands- like men- then continued down the hall, toward the General's location where Miss Hatty would just be a servant, Tarri would be Prince Bander, and Sparrow would be Twig. The three came upon the door.
They all took a breath in, ready to don their masks of obedience, patience, and quietude.
Miss Hatty turned the knob.
And the door was open.
