Chapter 5 - Sebastian

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"Can we have a moment?" Sebastian raised the note he had found in between the stack of letters, the paper still moist from the tea it had been drenched in. "Privately?"

He didn't dare to reveal more information, not with Captain Oswald in the room. Had it been the General or Captain Jonathan, he would have had no problem asking Uncle Tom why in the Seven Hells Aunt Crystal was writing him secret messages about Father, but he didn't trust this man with the bulgy eyes; his long feet had seemed too eager to fill Captain's Jonathan's shoes.

Uncle Tom peered at him, rubbing his pursed lips. "Give me fifteen minutes to wrap things up with the Captain."

"But it's important!" Sebastian clenched his teeth to keep the God of Wrath at bay. His cheeks were growing hot, his fists itching with the urge to bang on his uncle's desk and order Captain Oswald and his pathetic smug grin to leave at once. "More important than anything you've talked about today."

"Rude, Seb." His uncle didn't blink as he continued staring at him. With a quick wave, he dismissed him. "Go to your chamber. I'll be there shortly."

"But..."

"No. Your chamber."

Sebastian stomped his foot. "Don't cut me off. I only wanted to tell you I'm in the garden—like you told me to!"

As he darted off,  Uncle Tom was mumbling an unnecessary apology to the Captain. Sebastian slammed the door with so much force that the portrait of his great-grandfather rocked back and forth.

"And what are you smiling at!" he sneered as the man with deep green eyes and a large frowning wrinkle on his brow came to a standstill.  "I hate you. I hate all of you!"

Why he did not know, but it didn't stop him from giving the painting of King Edward another spin, the back of the canvas swishing against the wall. Stupid Uncle Tom who believed he was but a muttonhead who couldn't handle the truth.

He crumbled the note into his hand and threw it around, not caring where it would land. It bounced off one of the window panes and landed at the feet of Lieutenant Peter. The blonde-haired man reached for the ball and picked it up. He stretched out his hand. "I guess this is yours, My Lord."

"No, it's Aunt Crystal's!" Sebastian walked up to the Lieutenant, snatching the note. 

Not paying the man any more attention, he strutted on. He unfolded the paper, the cursive font—seemingly bigger than before—screamed in his face: Darling, don't you think it's time we tell Sebastian about Brandon?

Time to tell what; why Father didn't become King? He already knew what had happened all those years ago. Father and Uncle Tom had been bantering, which had resulted in Father accidentally injuring Uncle Tom's ear. It had been the final straw for Grandpa William, who had given Father the permission to marry Mother and become Lord of Laneby.

The God of Diligence tugged at his hair. Instead of going back to the royal garden and wait until Uncle Tom found it necessary to meet up with him, he needed to talk to the writer of the note: Aunt Crystal. If there was more to that story, he wanted to hear it now.

Sebastian glanced over his shoulder. "Lieutenant Peter."

The Lieutenant halted and turned around. "Yes, My Lord?"

"Where's my aunt?"

"In her parlour."

"Should have known." It was no secret that she spent most of the afternoons knitting, sewing, or reading mushy romance novels. The only visitors she got were noblewomen or Lady Viviane, who oversaw the other servants in the castle. Still, he wanted no repeat of what had happened in his uncle's office. "Is she alone?"

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