❝ MERLIN'S GHOST! ❞
❝ I MEAN, YOU'RE NOT WRONG. ❞
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Albany Bronwen was no Chosen One by any means, but being haunted by the ghosts of the greatest sorcerer of all time and a former king had to count for something, right?
❃ in which a lone...
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"HE'S MISSING?" Albany echoed, eyes widening. She felt her stomach drop. "What do you mean?"
"We were in the Great Hall," Fred explained, wiping his palms on his robes nervously. "You know, snacking before dinner. Next thing he says he feels sick, and just gets up and takes off."
Albany frowned, eyebrows furrowing. "Did you check the bathroom?"
"I've checked like half the castle," Fred replied, and she felt her insides twist at his expression. "Carly's helping me, I was coming back to meet her here."
"Where would he go?" Albany wondered, swallowing the rising nausea in her throat.
"I don't — I don't know," Fred answered quietly. "And Albany — this isn't a prank, just in case.... He looked really pale, I'm worried about him."
Albany nodded seriously, laying her hand on the taller boy's shoulder in comfort. "I believe you, Fred. Don't worry, we're going to find him."
Carly came rushing over then, curls bouncing as she ran, panting lightly as she stopped next to them.
"Any sign of him?" Fred asked hopefully.
Carly shook her head, and then had to adjust her glasses. "No, sorry."
Fred nodded, jaw tight. "I'm probably just overreacting, right?" he sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "He's never done anything like this before, I'm just...."
"Did anything happen when you were in the Great Hall?" Carly asked, glancing back to the room in question.
Fred shook his head, but then paused, reconsidering. "Well, one thing happened, but I don't think it was anything weird." He glanced at Albany.
"What?" she prompted him, concerned.
Fred almost chuckled. "He got asked to the ball," he explained, and was hasty to continue at Albany's expression. "Said no, obviously. Poor girl just stormed off."
Albany flexed her fingers, trying to prevent her fists from clenching. Don't be stupid. Of course other people were going to ask George to the ball — why wouldn't they? He was the ideal date, really; sweet, kind, funny, handsome....
"Earth to Allie," Fred called, waving a hand in front of her face. He was smirking. "Something wrong?"
"No," Albany replied quickly, shaking her head.
"You're not jealous?" Fred teased.
"No!" she snapped, glaring at him. "I'm not — why would I be—?"
"Oh, so you don't like George?" Fred's smile was horribly smug.
Albany folded her arms. "I really don't think that's important right now—"
