Brotherly Love - 2. Chapter 2

The remaining hours of that afternoon, at least to Ronny, passed by in a blur of activities in which he had no interest and by which he was completely bored. King Vallance from Falador was expected along with his beautiful daughter, Jasmine, and preparations preceded their arrival kept all staff in a foul mood. The enormity of the task – having the suits of armour and glass windows shined and polished to the last centimetre, the floors washed and mopped, the garden tended to and all bins emptied – wiped the smiles from all faces, and it was this stifling atmosphere Ronny sought to avoid all morning by staying in bed.

The occasion went rather well, he thought afterwards, though his father didn’t think so. Soon after their guests’ arrival along with the fearsome white knights, they were taken on a trip around the city while gifts and lodgings were carried to their rooms by porters. It appeared the event was compulsory for the entire royal family and Ronny was obliged to go. The venues consisted of the grounds of the palace, the huge fountain, the high street, the armoury and, last but by no means least, a newly built watchtower, an outpost designed to monitor the wilderness to the north. The King was aware of the dark wizards that resided in the south of the city, as well as tramps and filthy alleyways, which with care he plotted their course to avoid seeing those places, sparing their eyes the unpleasant sights. Reldo was with them too. At the King’s request, he was to fill in on the histories and legends of buildings and monuments. To Ronny’s surprise, Reldo was not at all angry with him for his no show this morning. It seemed that, weeks before, Reldo had already told him of today’s cancellation so he could prepare his materials for the talk. Ronny, of course, dropped the subject, not wanting to highlight his forgetfulness yet again.

For the evening meal, Ronny resumed the role of the neglected and inadequate brother. The Kings had strategically seated Edward and Jasmine together at the far end, something neither of them minded. That was until Edward made a joke that caused Jasmine to spill wine on his trousers, a crime for which she locked herself in a bathroom for the rest of that evening, perhaps as a form of penance. That Queen Tanya did not misbehave during the day should have been good news, but after the incident, even with the help of alcohol, a heaviness fell upon the table as silence invaded their every conversation. Inevitably, their eyes returned to the only empty seat – Jasmine’s. Embarrassment was in the air. Suddenly the food, roast chicken, fish wings, and salad, was their refuge.

After dinner, the Kings talked in private while Queen Tanya once again retired to her room. Edward was calling for Jasmine from outside the bathroom, in vain. Edward knew she wouldn’t come out, and Ronny knew that neither did Edward want her to. Eventually, everybody went about their own business, leaving Ronny to find his own entertainment for the evening. He couldn’t help but feel the attention was stolen from him. He returned to his room and, as an idea struck him, he pulled out from his drawer a parchment, and inked his pen. He was suddenly thrilled. It was the urge to write, not an assignment, but a story. It was his first leap into the world of creative writing and for a long time he had admired people who had published books. Now he was finally writing a story for real! Under his pen, he could turn everything in his favour and make everybody love him in his story. But that would be no challenge. Perhaps he could get rid of his brother, and by doing so, everybody, at least in the story, would love him instead. He had an amusing idea of a tale in which he killed his brother, and how afterwards he relished and savoured the deliciousness of revenge otherwise not practical in the real world. Many times in the past, Ronny had flung himself at Edward furiously, trying to do some real damage. And Edward laughed at him, or at least his efforts, subdued him easily since he was almost twice his size, and on the next day appeared to have forgotten the whole incident, which infuriated Ronny further. Now finally he could turn the tide. He began his first story with this:

‘He has killed his brother. He has always hated his brother and wanted him dead. He finally did it. He’s very happy about what he’s done…’

For the next few hours, he continued as writing brought him joy and liberation. He was freed from reality at last and managed to kill his brother. In the story, he went into his room at night when Edward was sleeping. He stood next to him, watching his bare chest rising and falling peacefully, its silhouette highlighted by the moonlight coming through the windows. In the story, he happened to have a knife stolen from the kitchen in his trouser pocket and he put it across his brother’s throat, and the deed was done. That was the end of the story, and certainly the end of Edward’s story. Ronny did not feel it necessary to describe how the murder would then affect the rest of his family, or what emotional scars it would leave on those around him, because these things were simply not relevant. Besides, realising it would probably strike a note in his conscience and he would find that, even in a story, he did something really terrible. Now, with his first story finished, he had to get readers. But who should, or would, want to read this? He couldn’t show this to Edward (if he wouldn’t strangle him on the spot, at the very least he might show him his first story, which no doubt would be ten times better) or his mother or father. Reldo might be interested but like his parents, he might end up telling Edward about it, which would still be disastrous. Maybe he should hide the story so no one would ever find it. It was a sound plan. He would put it in a safe place, keep it a secret and hope that along with the story, his crime, and the cold-blooded murder of his brother, would be locked away and forgotten.

But that must happen first thing, tomorrow morning. He took out his diary and started noting the events of the day. He tried, whenever possible, to write down his activities only, totally excluding Edward’s participation, because this diary was his, not Edward’s or anybody else’s for that matter. This wasn’t always possible and it was despairing to flick through it now, reading different entries from the last two years – which was when he started writing this – and finding that most pages had the name Edward on it at least once, or if not, synonyms such as Bro or Big-head. The reasons, or excuses, for Edward’s invasion to his diary could be the fact that it was Edward’s birthday parties, Edward’s homecoming parties, or the kitchen staff had mistook Edward’s mischief for Ronny’s and complained to the King, or that he was angry because Mother took her gaze off him as soon as Edward showed up to her room, bringing her flowers. Even in Ronny’s birthday parties, despite him wishing otherwise, it always turned out to be just another arranged date for Edward and Jasmine. So Edward polluted his diary, and now his first story as well. It was outrageous. Maybe he should return the favour some day.

He had put down his diary, noted it was midnight and despite being quite tired from writing, he decided against going to sleep. Why didn’t he go to sleep? If he had, nothing would have happened and it would have just been another ordinary, miserable night. He stepped out of his room and examined the darkened corridor. Nearly everyone was asleep. There were guards on duty and Ronny knew how to slip past them well enough. As a child, he indulged himself in midnight adventures and it was exciting for him. He would walk up to the highest tower, be soothed by the wind under the stars, or he might go to the kitchen and grab a cake which he could argue was the breakfast he’d missed this morning.

Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat when he saw two large, yellow eyes advancing towards him, glaring at him from a few yards out in the darkness. On closer examination, it was a black cat wandering in the corridor. It certainly wasn’t their cat. He had never seen it before and had no idea where it came from. It stopped and stared at him for a few seconds. Ronny stared back. Without warning, the cat turned and went silently away down the corridor, disappearing in darkness once more. He could follow the cat, track it down and try to annoy it. That could be the adventure of the night, though in truth he hadn’t done any adventuring in years. Or was he in fact a little scared of it? A more cowardly option for an adventure would be taking the path on his left instead, and down to the kitchen from the stairs there. More cowardly still, he could go back to sleep, deciding that he was too old, too frightened of the darkness and the night. Not quite brave enough to chase the cat, yet unwilling to give up a chance to relive his childhood, he chose the path on the left. He had forgotten how the statues and suits of armour on the sides stood menacingly at night, and how much he loved it all. He walked on, still not looking for anything in particular. He would need to turn left after ten yards, pass between a guard’s bedroom and the altar, and finally down the stairs to the kitchen. He was excited now, and he was already overwhelmed by nostalgia. So much had happened since he last walked down this path at this time of night that it hardly seemed true at all. He knew that his innocence was lost, and when he last took the very same steps he was still a child, his problems and worries were small and insignificant.

It wasn’t until he’d reached the top of the stairs that he thought he heard small voices coming from the altar. They were whispers, but nothing more. The guard in the other room (Ronny could see him because the door was open) was snoring loudly in his sleep. It couldn’t be him surely. Should he move on now? No, there were the voices again. Now he believed his ears. Ronny turned and realised the doors to the altar were slightly ajar. On closer examination, the inside wasn’t completely dark either. He stepped cautiously over and ducked behind the door.

‘Shh! I heard someone,’ a voice whispered.

Ronny held his breath. His heart thumped loudly and he hoped the noise of it would not give him away. He dared not look through the gap yet for surely he would be noticed instantly. His muscles were twitching and it was impossible to keep still. His senses were suddenly alert, and if this phantom came out of the door he would dart for the stairs, out through the kitchen backdoor and call for the guards. But so far there were no approaching footsteps.

A minute’s silence followed, but whoever was inside that room, Ronny was certain he remained. He waited for a few more seconds.

‘I think he’s gone now.’ Wait. That was Edward’s voice. Ronny was relieved for a moment, but for a moment only. The plot thickened, for, what was Edward doing in the altar, in the middle of the night?

‘Hey, you wanna know something?’ asked the other voice.

‘What?’

‘You and that Jasmine look pretty cute together.’

Edward said, ‘Eww. Don’t mention her already. I know what Father is up to.’

Curious, Ronny peeked over the gap for two seconds before dodging out of sight again, even more mystified by what he saw. There was a candle at the front, lighting the room dimly, and there were four rolls of wooden benches on each side. Edward and the other were sitting on the second roll of the left. It was peculiar, because from the blond hair and the curve of his face Ronny recognised Edward’s companion as the kitchen boy, Tyler. Ronny had seen him around, but they’d never spoken. Tyler was eighteen, and he sat by the wall with Edward on his right. It was difficult to notice what was going on or see all the details because even with the candle, the room was still quite dark. Anyone who walked past would’ve noticed nothing on first glance, and if they had business on their mind (which they usually would in the middle of the night), they would’ve walked straight on instead. But Ronny was not anyone. For proving he was unlike other people, he was pleased with himself. He sat with his back to the door and listened.

‘How’s your day?’ Edward asked.

‘Busy,’ Tyler replied. ‘The chef was horrible, totally stressed out by the feast. The kitchen was a battlefield when you were all enjoying yourselves downtown.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

‘It was worth it,’ Tyler said. ‘And may I just add, you looked absolutely wonderful tonight.’

‘Before or after she’s drenched me?’

There was a short pause. ‘You know, I still haven’t decided yet.’

It occurred to Ronny now that he was in the dark, and with the light source inside, they wouldn’t be able to see him easily anyway if they looked. Daringly, he made himself stare through the gap once more. He was again surprised by what he saw. Edward was holding Tyler’s hand, and on the back of it he kissed gently.

‘You look wonderful everyday.’

‘You too,’ said Tyler. They continued to stare at the other for a minute in silence.

‘Which reminds me…’ Edward began, but Tyler beat him to it.

‘Happy anniversary, sweetie,’ Tyler grinned, pulling out a small, wrapped present.

‘How did you remember? It’s our first year.’

Tyler smiled. ‘I can count, you know.’

‘Can I open it?’ Edward asked.

‘Wait,’ Tyler pouted, withdrawing a little. ‘Where’s my present?’

‘Maybe I forgot, and did not get you anything.’

‘No, you didn’t,’ Tyler objected. ‘You asked me out on our anniversary. You can’t get more obvious than that.’

Edward stared at him, and thought for a moment. ‘You have a point.’ Edward sighed, a look of failure on his face. ‘Maybe it was a bit obvious. I’ll think of something more subtle next time.’

Edward from his pocket produced a small, black box. They exchanged, unwrapped their presents and the gifts far exceeded their expectations. To Edward’s surprise his gift was a small telescope – apparently, on one occasion he complained that he couldn’t see Tyler working in the kitchen from his room because it was too far away. And Tyler, to his amazement found in the small box a note and an expensive diamond ring. He read the piece of paper with great speed.

‘You want to marry me?’ he squealed.

‘Why not? I’ll marry you right in front of this altar here.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Is that a promise?’

‘I promise.’

Pause. Tyler looked at the ring again. ‘That’s not legal.’

‘Yet,’ Edward added. ‘I know. I’ll make it legal.’

They absorbed his statement and silence settled around them again.

‘What is it?’ Edward asked.

‘I’m worried for you, like how your father will take it and all.’

‘Don’t be,’ Edward said. ‘I’m tired of lying to everyone that I loved. It may take him a while but…I think he’ll understand.’

Tyler nodded.

Edward leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Don’t worry about it. I hate it when you’re sad.’

‘You smell good,’ Tyler remarked. ‘What have you been wearing?’

‘You cheeky little devil.’

Edward tilted his head to one side and this time he leaned forward and went for the lips. There were small, wet sounds as their tongues met and wrestled clumsily in the darkness. They were so close together. The altar did not provide the ideal space and it proved uncomfortable for them both. They fumbled for a little while, as their kiss grew more desperate and urgent. Edward moaned softly.

‘Not here.’ Tyler broke away suddenly.

Edward looked at him, a little hurt. ‘Okay.’

Tyler turned to him, and grinned. ‘Or we could go to your room.’

Edward’s eyes lit up. ‘You sure?’

He smiled. ‘Just for a little while.’

They were standing up now, and Edward was giddy, still holding his lover’s hand. Ronny got to his feet, turned, and slipped himself inside the guard’s bedroom where surely the snoring would conceal his presence. He heard the receding footsteps in the distance as the two boys went away, snickering amongst themselves. After a minute, Ronny came out again into the corridor, now unsure whether he still wanted to grab that cake in the kitchen. What he’d seen defied all description. The scene would’ve still happened were he not there. It surprised him, because this was a side of Edward he did not know. It never occurred to him because Edward never told anyone. It must’ve been his secret. And an important one too, or why else would it merit hiding? He wasn’t disgusted by it; he wasn’t close-minded. But he wouldn’t claim he understood it either. At this age, he would rather not think about physical intimacies. Nevertheless, it was delightful to uncover secrets, particularly his brother’s secrets. It also occurred to him that he might be the only other person in the world who knew about Edward’s secret lover. Armed with this new information, or knowledge, although he still wasn’t quite sure what to do with it yet, he skipped back to his own room that night, strangely elated. He was feeling a lot more important already.