The Young Elites // Sanders Sides AU

Chapter 6 - Virgil Amouteru

For a week, Virgil doesn't leave his chamber. He drifts in and out of sleep, waking to eat the steaming food that the maid serves him and to allow her to change his bandages.

Sometimes Roman drops in, hands adorned with leather gloves and expression filled with slight amusement, but no one besides him and the maid visit. Virgil receives no more information about the Crown Society, or about what they plan to do with him.

The days pass slowly. Prosperiday. Aevaday. Moraday. Amareday. Sapienday. He wonders what Remy is doing right now, if he's safe or not. If maybe he's worried about Virgil too.

When Prosperiday rolls around again, Virgil is well enough to go without bandages. The harsh, red welts on his wrists have faded to faint bruises, and his scalp is less sensitive to touch. His hair is tangled and knotted from days without brushing it, and that night, he carefully combs his fingers through the purple and silver strands. He studies himself in front of mirror by candlelight, observing the way the orange light illuminates the scar over his right eye. Frightening thoughts float in the back of his mind, clawing at his attention, and he's afraid to listen.

He looks the same.

He looks like a stranger.

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Low voices draw him from sleep, alerting him to the presence of the warm morning sun. He remains in bed, though, ears straining to catch the conversation outside the door.

He knows the speakers. Roman, and his maid.

"-to attend to. How is Master Amouteru?"

"Better." A pause. "What shall I do with him today, Your Highness? He seems to be growing restless. Shall I take him around the court?"

Virgil can imagine Roman's disinterested expression, the way he tugs his gloves even tighter, eyes turned away from the maid. "Bring him to Logan."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Footsteps echo down the hallway, then fade away completely. Virgil is slightly disappointed that Roman won't be around. He'd intended on asking more questions. The maid had said court, but what kind? A royal estate? And who is Logan?

Virgil stays in bed until the maid comes in, nestled into the comfortable blankets. She eventually bustles in with an armful of silks and a bowl of warm water. "Good morning, Master. Look at the pink in your cheeks! Lovely."

It's odd, to have someone complimenting him and catering to his every whim, but Virgil smiles his thanks anyway. The maid scrubs him clean and dresses him in the red and white silks. He carefully combs his silver bangs over his scar, and winces as she brushes over his injured scalp. Finally, they're finished. She guides him to the door, and Virgil inhales deeply as he steps out of his chamber for the first time.

They walk down a narrow hallway that branches off into two. He studies the walls curiously. Paintings of the gods adorn them, tales of beautiful Pulchritas emerging from the ocean, and young Laetes falling from the heavens, the colors as vivid as if they had been created only a week ago. Virgil lingers in the hall, staring in wonder, for so long that he begins to fall behind, and only when the maid calls for him to hurry does he tear his gaze away and quicken his steps. As they walk, he attempts to think of something to say - but every time he opens his mouth to speak, the maid offers a polite smile and looks away disinterestedly. Virgil finally decides to remain silent. They take another turn, and then abruptly halt in front of what seems to be a solid wall and a row of marble pillars.

The maid runs her hand along one side of a pillar, then abruptly pushes the wall. He watches, shocked, as the wall swings open with a groan to reveal another hall behind it. "Come, young master," the maid says over her shoulder. Stunned, he follows her. The wall slides shut behind them, as if nothing had ever existed beyond it.