Her father arrived just in time to stop their squabbles. Once they had explained the cause of the disagreement, her father and the boy shared opinions on the painting, which resulted in Caedmon praising the boy. She almost couldn’t believe it. When was the last time she had heard such words?

Soon enough they were in the great hall, where the boy would eat his first meal in weeks. From the look on his face, she would have thought he’d never eaten before. With wide eyes, he marvelled at each component of his stew and even cried at the taste. Afterward, her father told him about how he wound up in their care, and then asked after the reason why the boy had wound up on the side of the Winding Road. She wasn’t prepared for the tragic story that followed—nobody was, not her father or the house servants—as he told his tale through quaking sobs. To see this boy crying made her uncomfortable, as if it were something that wasn’t supposed to happen.

Not a trace of his earlier confidence remained as he spoke of his life as a slave in the Kingdom of Loyarre, in the county of Melsian that lay so close to her secluded hometown. She had never considered herself particularly lucky, but that changed once she heard the boy’s tale. The abuse of the guards, the thought of his father dying in his arms, the breaking up of his family, it was too much. She wanted him to stop talking, since everything he said was worse than the last. He had been forced to leave his sickly mother behind, along with the only friend he’d ever known, only to witness his uncle’s murder. Could she have had such a sound conversation as they’d entertained in the art hall, if she had just woken up from such a nightmare?

It was commonly known that slaves and peasants lived lives without luxury, but she had never given much thought to their daily lives. Suddenly she was ashamed that she had spoken ill of his mother, however lightly it had been. The moment she noticed her own tears, she immediately left for her chambers, cuddling up on her wide, four-poster bed, eyes absently staring up at its fine silver canopy.

She had barely lain down when she was startled by a great ruckus. Her father was running about and barking orders in a belligerent frenzy. She had never seen him like that before, his face pale and painted with sweat, his eyes strained and his breathing laboured. What had happened?

She chose to spend the rest of the day in her room, though decided that first she would head to the basement to apologize to the boy. She hovered outside the room that they’d put him in, indecisive as she struggled to word her apology in her mind. It was seldom that she apologized to anyone, so she wasn’t sure what to say. She stood in silence as her mind drew a blank, but soon heard weak sounds coming from within the room. The boy was still sobbing. Frowning, she returned to her chambers, more distraught than she had been in a long while.

The next day was full of surprises. The boy, Alistar, was actually her cousin. His mother had been her father’s younger sister and best friend, and what was more, she was still alive. Anice didn’t know much about her aunt because it was a very soft topic for her father, but she knew that Laisha was a kind and strong woman, and that her father had respected her more than anybody else.

Once they discovered that she was still alive, Caedmon sent a good deal of their personal fortune off with Mister Stason, in order to purchase her freedom. As it was, her aunt was expected to arrive in two weeks, and she was excited to meet her. Her mother had passed away giving birth to her, so she had only ever lived with her father, and was curious about how things might change with a woman in the house. The house servants didn’t count, since they didn’t care for her in the way that a family member might, so she was full of anticipation to meet the person that held such a special place in his father’s heart.

Over the next couple of weeks her father had bid her to keep Alistar company and to show him around the property. He was to live with them from then on, so it was best that he grew familiar to his new surroundings as quickly as possible. Truthfully, Anice was excited. She finally had someone to play with. Alistar wasn’t much fun to be around, but he was better than no one at all.

Her cousin was an odd boy. He didn’t know any of the games she liked to play, but he learned quickly and beat her at almost everything. Because of this, she kept things simple and stuck to games of sport and physical activity. She was quick on her feet, faster than all of her friends aside from Zech and Jaden. Hellen was quick too, but Anice never had any trouble keeping up with her. Her plan failed in the end, since Alistar was fast enough that he would give any of those three a run for their money.

To compensate for his surprising athleticism, Anice thought up new rules here and there that would help prevail over her cousin, though Alistar never stuck around long enough for her to win at anything. He always snuck off the moment he got the chance. Once, when she’d taught him how to play hide and seek, he’d simply gone to keep the house servants company and left her hiding in a crate of apples for over an hour. This was the same as saying that he would rather spend his time with the servants. This irked her, but also left her strangely at ease. At the end of the day, at least he was honest.

Even though he was always running off somewhere on his own, Alistar spent more time with her than anybody else. She had never met a boy like him before. He was ignorant of many things that she considered normal, like the names of common foods or animals, and basically every game that existed. He had no sense of style, and spoke like a beady-eyed old man, so properly and with such big words. What startled her was that, while he was ignorant of something so normal as a carrot, he seemed to know every word in existence, with a vocabulary so well-structured that he sounded like many of the learned adults. Surprising still, was that even if he was unaware of something, the moment he learned about it, the knowledge never left him. He even corrected her on things that he’d learned just hours before, as if he’d had the knowledge all his life.

All in all, she enjoyed spending time with him. Unlike the other Silverkin boys, he never struck her, and never made a game out of bringing tears to her eyes. Because of this, she did as her father had asked and showed him every corner of the estate. After several days, she eventually ended her tour of the property by making a quick stop at the library. She learned quickly that this was a mistake. The moment they entered, Alistar’s eyes nearly left their sockets. Much to her annoyance, he stubbornly refused to leave.

What kind of kid would rather read in a dingy library than play outside in the gardens, or splash around in the fountains? During the days that followed, he spent so much time holed up in the library that Anice had to resort to trickery in order to get him to leave. She raked her brain over what new thing she could show him, what interesting place they could visit. For some reason, he was adamantly against going into town, so the things they could do together were limited to whatever the manor house had to offer. Luckily, seeing a cricket would make his day, so he always wound up following her around for at least a few hours. He’d often say things like, 'Mama will love this!' and 'When Mama gets here…' and so on. He seemed very fond of his mother, which left Anice feeling surprisingly jealous. This confused her, since there was nothing in Alistar’s life for her to be jealous over.

Many days later, Mister Stason returned from Melsian. It was then that they learned that Alistar’s mother had passed away just after he’d left Crystellum. Not just her cousin, but her father was also altered by the news. Over the next week, Caedmon neglected much of his duties, leaving them to his chamberlain Mister Alder while he drank his days away within the confines of his study. On the rare occasions when he had drank in the past, her father rarely finished a single glass, so she felt uneasy every time she saw a house servant heading upstairs with a new bottle of wine or spirits. At times, she hovered outside of the doorway to his study, anxious over his strange behavior, but she would leave at the sounds of glass shattering or objects being thrown, which happened almost every time.