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Tricia Kamelot was sure that the young man Tyki had dropped in his spare bedroom at the manor was not, in fact, a prostitute, no matter his state of undress, because her brother-in-law would know better than to bring a prostitute to the home of the minister of foreign affairs. Besides, the boy, strange as he might be with his snow-white hair and scarred face, couldn’t be much older than Wisely. In moments like this, Tricia could really understand why her husband was so keen on keeping Tyki close, or at least within the boundaries of their country. When left to his own devices, Tyki got up to the most curious things.
Such as bringing a half-dressed maybe-prostitute to her home.
Recovering her wits, Tricia brushed imaginary dust from her dress and closed the door to Tyki’s rooms behind her. Maybe they should put more effort into finding Tyki a good wife or convince him to bring around that one child he bought medicine for a while ago. Her brother-in-law certainly loved to travel, and Tricia knew that tying him down for too long made him miserable, but perhaps there was something they could do to convince him to stay so he wouldn’t be in and out of the house without so much as an explanation.
Would it have hurt him to explain who his guest was before rushing off to meet the Earl? Dear Lord, what if Road had stumbled upon the young man? Tricia was glad that neither her daughter nor her new son was at home right now. Road was still staying with Lulubell and Wisely was spending the day with their father. She did not want to explain to either what kind of people Tyki brought to their house.
Though, perhaps Wisely would understand regardless. Sheril had been short about his background, a certain unease to his voice that Tricia understood all too well. She had been at his side, after all, when Sheril had first brought home his brother, his father’s abandoned bastard. Wisely never spoke of his childhood, but Tricia hoped that someday he’d be comfortable enough to do so.
Exhaling once more, Tricia made her way to the kitchens to prepare a second breakfast for herself and a first for her new house guest. Unknown origins aside, any inhabitant of Kamelot manor was treated kindly and with respect.
And people talked more easily when they were filling their stomachs.
With the cooks informed, Tricia went about finding clothes for the young man hopefully still sleeping soundly in Tyki’s bed. He had looked to be about Wisely’s height from what she had glimpsed. While all befitting of his station, her son’s clothes also had a large stash of very casual ones to accommodate for his former lifestyle. Wisely was more comfortable in those than the suits he ought to wear and while Tricia was sure her mother would have never allowed any of her brothers to dress like that, Tricia cared more for her son’s well-being than their image.
When she’d married Sheril, who hadn’t cared a bit that she could never birth him a child, she’d expected her life to be strange, but never like this.
She wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
Wisely’s room, much like Road’s, was a mess. Neither allowed servants to clean up in them and as neither particularly cared about order, toys, books, and other spoils laid everywhere. Tricia didn’t recognize half of the books on the ground, but she’d bet they belonged to the Earl given how old they looked. He, much like Sheril, did enjoy spoiling the children. Smiling fondly at the objects, Tricia side-stepped them to get to Wisely’s cupboard and take some of his comfortable day clothes. With winter approaching so quickly, the young man would certainly appreciate a good pullover. Recalling which ones she’d never seen him wear, Tricia chose a green checkered pullover. Picking similarly from Wisely’s other clothes, Tricia soon had an outfit assembled. The cooks would be done with the meal soon and the maids had probably already laid the table.
It was time to wake her guest.
Tricia returned to Tyki’s room and knocked on the door twice. When there was no reply, she decided that he had waited long enough and could afford to be slightly rude and wake her guest.
She stepped into the room to find the young man writhing on the sheets., exposing his torso. A large scar covered his entire chest and there were enough small ones to make Tricia gasp. What had the young man gone through?
“Please.” The plead slipped from the man’s mouth. “Please, no, Nea, stop—”
Nea.
An odd name, perhaps that of the man who’d hurt him?
Tricia knew that Tyki kept the company of the broken, lost, and hurt. Perhaps he hadn’t brought the man here for his own pleasure but because he’d wanted to save him. Tyki, despite acting annoyed at Road and Wisely’s antics, or doing everything he could to avoid the company of his brother, was a compassionate person at heart. He readily helped Tricia and showed concern for her when her health was failing once more.
It would be just like Tyki to bring someone home to aid them before thinking of the consequences. His gambling did make him a bit of a risk-taker.
Knowing better than to roughly waken someone from a nightmare, Tricia carefully approached the sleeping man. He was thin, she could count his every rib, and bruises lingering on his sides as if somebody had caught him and held him down.
Any reservations about keeping this man in her home disappeared. Oh, she was still angry at Tyki for leaving without an explanation, but this person had her protection now. She’d see to it that this boy would find new employment, maybe keep him on her staff for a while if he proved to be a hard worker. Good cooks or aids were hard to come by these days and with that blackened arm of his, he was bound to struggle to find serious employment.
And if Tricia ever met this Nea, she’d give him her opinion on things.
Or get her husband to do it for her.
For all that Sheril was a loving father, he could be utterly ruthless as well. Politics, how it shaped men into monsters.
Slowly, Tricia offered her hand and took the man’s into her own. But as soon as she touched the strange blackened limp, the boy’s eyes flickered open. For a moment, Tricia thought they gleamed gold, then they settled in a silver just as beautiful, wide and terror-stricken.
“It’s alright,” Tricia said as the man tried to crawl away from her, obviously in a panic, confused by his new surroundings. “You are safe here.”
“Where am I?” the man asked. “Who’re you?”
Tricia suppressed a sigh. So Tyki hadn’t had the chance to tell the young man where exactly he was taking him either? God’s grace, she would have words with him.
“My name is Tricia Kamelot. My brother-in-law, Tyki, brought you to my home.”
“Kamelot?” The man repeated, something like recognition flashing in his eyes. Oh dear, the man did not know of Tyki’s family, did he?
“Like Road?” the man continued.
That was not the type of recognition Tricia had expected. Then again, people were more inclined to trust you if you told them about the children they looked after. Tyki must have mentioned his niece to this young man to either gain his trust or because he genuinely liked him. He didn’t so much refuse to talk about them to his acquaintances as much as avoid the topic altogether if Tricia understood him correctly.
“My daughter,” Tricia elaborated. “Tyki must have mentioned her.”
The young man was obviously still disorientated, but slowly his sight cleared and he took in his surroundings. “Where is Tyki?”
“He had to go talk to the Earl, but I assume he’ll be back soon.”
Her words obviously didn’t have the calming effect that she hoped for as, somehow, the young man managed to pale even more. The questions just kept rising in her head as the man’s behavior confused her. She desperately needed what circle of hell Tyki had found him in. If mentioning nobility frightened him, perhaps he had been owned or trafficked? Tricia was well aware that there were men refusing to spend a good penny on a prostitute, preferring someone even less likely to talk.
“You are safe here,” Tricia assured him again. “I brought you some clothes from my son; I believe they should fit you. Once you’re dressed, you can eat some breakfast with me and tell me a bit about yourself.”
“I— yes, alright.” The man looked so incredibly lost, seeming even younger like that. She had thought he was a few years older than Wisely originally, but perhaps they were the same age after all. Wisely did look a bit younger than most seventeen-year-olds due to his previous lifestyle and lack of nutrition.
“I will wait for you outside. If you’d just tell me your name beforehand?”
The man blinked. “You don’t know it?”
Tricia shook her head. “No. Tyki just dropped you off and disappeared again. I swear he can act like a perfect gentleman, but you know he likes you when he doesn’t. He didn’t tell me anything at all about you.”
“You’re human,” the man said as if that were a possible conclusion of many, as if there was the option of being anything else. Tricia’s eyes drifted to his arm. There were plenty of fools who’s deem people with such unusual marks inhuman.
“Human like you,” Tricia told him with a slight smile. The man returned it, though he must have been too exhausted to ensure that it looked honest.
“Allen,” he said then. “My name is Allen Walker.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Allen Walker.”
Tricia put the clothes on the bedsheets and sent him another reassuring smile before going outside, leaving Allen Walker to get dressed. Once the door clicked close behind her, Tricia allowed herself to lose her composure. Tricia had seen the very best of humanity, met it every day she got to hod her children and kiss her husband goodnight, but she knew of the vile creatures hiding in the shadows. This Allen had obviously met them and much like her Wisely, she didn’t want him to experience such again. Her mother had always called Tricia a little weak-hearted, not just because of her condition but also her equally bleeding heart and compassion.
She’d hardly exchanged five sentences with Allen Walker and already felt protective of him
After a few minutes, Allen opened the door, now dressed in her son’s clothes, and Tricia was shocked to see that the pullover was still a little loose on his frame, never mind the white shirt he’d chosen to wear beneath it. Well, that was nothing a healthy meal couldn’t fix.
“Breakfast is downstairs,” Tricia said. “I hope you’re hungry.”
Allen opened his mouth, likely to protest, when his stomach rumbled, causing him to blush. “I may be a bit hungry, yes.”
Tricia hummed as she led him through the building, past the paintings that had been done of her family. She noticed him looking at them with curiosity and an emotion she couldn’t quite explain.
“When was the last time you ate?” she asked when he was distracted.
“A while ago,” Allen said. “I didn’t make enough cash to afford it.”
And certainly, that Nea was to blame for that as well. Tricia had thought that these vile brothel owners ensured that their workers at least ate to be up for performance, but evidently, that was not the case. Well, she could certainly do better. “You can eat as much as you want at my table,” she told him. “In fact, I insist on it.”
He smiled at her, still with some distrust in his eyes, but that was to be expected when waking up in an unfamiliar environment next to a person he didn’t know. She only hoped that Tyki would show up soon to clear things up.
Perhaps Tyki would be a safer topic to discuss than that Nea?
“How long have you known Tyki?”
Allen froze before obviously forcing himself to relax.
“I don’t mean to pry,” Tricia explained. “I just assumed you’ve known each other for a while since he brought you here from whatever trouble you were in.”
At that, Allen’s eyes softened just a little. “He did save me there, didn’t he?” he said, not seeming to truly speak to Tricia but more to himself.
“We met for the first time while I was working with two other friends. Krory was new to the… job and it was my and Lavi’s duty to show him the rope, so to speak.”
The way the boy talked about it made it seem like it was years ago already and Tricia found herself hoping that it hadn’t been that long, that he hadn’t been stuck in that business from a young age on.
They entered the winter garden, where a beautiful spread awaited them. Allen momentarily lost his concentration, just staring at the food ahead. It was too much for two people, but perhaps Tricia could invite one of the maids or cooks to eat the leftovers. They never did eat when she asked them to and made themselves sparse when food was presented. Tricia was starting to suspect it was on purpose.
“Please, you can take whatever you want,” she told him and sat down herself, pouring them a cup of tea. Allen quickly followed suit, any sign of hesitance obviously stemming only from wanting to keep up his good behavior.
“So you met Tyki at work?” she asked to pick up the conversation again. With eagle eyes, she watched him put one slice of bread on his plate. When he caught her staring, he added another and some fruit.
“Yes, Krory had run into their group and been a little lost. We ended up playing cards.”
Tricia clicked her tongue in disapproval. She’d caught Tyki trying to teach Wisely poker. “I apologize for him,” Tricia said. “He’s a horrible cheat.”
“Oh, there’s no need to apologize,” Allen replied, smiling self-decrepitatingly. “I’m a worse cheat, or better if you want to be correct.”
“And took his shirt as you did now?”
The white dress shirt Allen was wearing beneath the green pullover was too big on him, covering his hands. It had to be one of Tyki’s.
Allen winced, then smiled tiredly. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
If Tyki had hurt this boy, Tricia was going to make his life a living hell.
“I assume you’ve known each other for a while then?”
Allen swallowed around another slice of bread, the third one. Now that he had found his appetite, he seemed unable to stop. Tricia didn’t want to be the person to tell him to stop, who knew when he’d last had a proper meal, but overgorging was only going to lead to him spitting it all up again.
“I met him when I was… sixteen— no, fifteen.”
Fifteen.
How long ago had that been? And what had the boy been doing then? Tricia certainly hoped her assumptions would prove to be wrong.
“And since then, it has been a few times, randomly. We weren’t always in the best condition and have hurt each other. I mean— I didn’t mean to, I just wanted …” Allen trailed off as if suddenly realizing that he was talking to Tyki’s relative, a person who might judge him. “I’m sorry.”
Tricia shook her head. “Don’t be, please. If Tyki brought you here, then he has forgiven anything that might have happened between the two of you.”
Allen’s shoulders fell as if a huge burden had been taken from them. He was still, by no means, relaxed, but he appeared to be at least a little calmer, more at peace. Content that she’d achieved that, Tricia continued chatting with him, talking about her own family. While mentioning Sheril startled him again, talking about Road put him at ease. Allen was obviously troubled and had suffered a lot throughout his young life, but he was also kind, gentle in a way few humans still seemed to be.
“Sheril found both her,” Tricia said as she recounted Road’s adoption. “She was such a lonely girl but quickly cheered up.”
“That’s good,” Allen replied. “I’m glad you found her. I remember when my father adopted me. It was the happiest day of my life so we made it my birthday since I, uh, didn’t really know mine. Mana said it was a perfect date, that we’d celebrate my adoption, birthday, and Christmas at once. We didn’t have much money, being traveling clowns, but he always made sure I received something special. I tried to keep up the tradition after he died, but it wasn’t the same.”
As soon as the words had left Allen’s mouth, he let out a surprised laugh that seemed to walk on the edge of being a sob. “I’m sorry. I just— never really talked about this with anyone before?”
It would be Christmas soon. She hoped that Road would be home by then as well as the rest of the family. It was always such a fun celebration, especially since everyone insisted on finding the perfect birthday gift for Tyki on top of his usual Christmas present.
To think that Allen hadn’t experienced such joy in years broke Tricia’s heart. “You should ask Tyki to give you a gift this year. You two share a birthdate so he won’t forget, I’m sure.”
Allen set down his cup of tea to look at her in surprise. “We do?”
“Yes, and—”
“Tricia, darling, we’re home!” Sheril’s voice rang through the house, close to their dining room, and from one moment to the other, time seemed to slow down. Tricia stood to greet her husband just as Allen rose to his feet, looking like a Satan himself had come to drag him to hell, terrified out of his mind, the previous progress gone in an instant.
“Sheril!” Tyki’s voice followed, strained and worried like Tricia hadn’t heard in years. “I told you— wait for a second! Sheril!”
And then Sheril was already standing in the room, his face going from delight to confusion to a rage of the like she’d never seen before, all of it focused on Allen, who started to shake like a leave in the wind.
“You,” Sheril hissed, accusingly pointed at Allen. Allen took a step back, holding his dark arm with his other one, looking like he wanted to escape right then and there.
Did Sheril know Allen as well?
Tricia couldn’t fathom what extraordinary position the boy might have had so that even her husband knew of this as well. Sheril had a tendency to look into everyone’s business, something Tricia silently suspected stemmed from the fact that he hadn’t been aware of his own brother until both had been well into adulthood, but that was by no means a proper explanation for this extreme reaction.
“What is he doing here?”
“It’s Allen Walker!” Tyki shouted, quickly positioning himself between Sheril and Allen, looking ready to defend the boy. Tyki’s protectiveness of Allen couldn’t be any clearer. He behaved the same way he might act around Road when he caught some of the far too old gentlemen at their parties look at her a moment too long.
Tyki perceived his brother as a threat to the guest he had brought here. Never before had Tricia seen him pick anything, anyone, above a family member.
This situation was spiraling out of control.
“It’s Allen Walker,” Tyki repeated. “Not him. I found him after battling Apocryphos and dealing with the Fourteenth. We had a truce.”
“He is dangerous,” Sheril insisted. “And you brought him into our home.”
“He’s not—”
“Your scars, Tyki!” Sheril said, voice rising with every word. “Is he not the cause of them?”
Tyki winced, a confirmation as good as any, but within a second, he stood straight again, determination holding him upright. “It was his right and just repayment.”
The scars.
Tricia knew of them, of course. They were hardly something you could ignore, ugly and large as they were. Often enough, she sat in the gardens at midnight, wrapped in her blanket with Tyki next to her, both unable to sleep due to their pain. They’d even started to joke about how much they made Sheril worry, trying to see the best in their situation. The idea that the boy she had been drinking tea with could have caused wounds so terrible that such terrible scars would appear on Tyki’s skin was impossible.
Tension was high and Allen was paling, looking sickly, appearing feverish. He stood right at the corner of the table as if town between escaping through the window and holding onto the furniture for support.
“Everyone, please calm down,” Tricia said, hoping to diffuse the situation. If Tyki and Sheril started to actually fist fight like rowdy teenagers instead of the men they were, she certainly wouldn’t be able to stop them. But they hadn’t gone that far yet and she would see to it that they didn’t start spilling blood on her carpets. “Please, Allen and I were just eating breakfast together.”
“He could have hurt you,” Sheril said, anger hot and boiling, beyond furious. “He would have enjoyed it too.”
“I wouldn’t have hurt her.”
Between the explosions that were Tyki and Sheril, Allen now seemed even smaller. Soft as his voice was, barely carrying over the others’ outbursts, his silver eyes were made of steel. “I don’t hurt humans.”
“Well, the same cannot be said for the dear Fourteenth, can it?” Sheril sneered, causing Allen to wince, guilt eating away.
“And if you keep acting like that,” Tyki interrupted, “then won’t be Allen you’ll have to worry about.”
There was something about the way that Tyki said Allen that tipped Tricia off. She knew her husband and his family and friends had secrets even from here and had decided against prying. But dear heavens, she was not unobservant! Tricia opened her mouth to demand peace and answer but didn’t have a chance to speak.
“What’s with this commotion?”
Almost comedically, all four of them turned to the newcomer. The Earl was dressed as usual in his top hat and coat, though he appeared rather casual, the same he looked when Tyki and Wisely convinced him to go fish and grill their koi in the pond. He seemed so confused, staring at the commotion in front of him. “What are you all—”
“Mana?”
Allen Walker had seemed panicked and confused when Tricia had first met him, but whatever he was feeling then didn’t seem to compare in the slightest to what he appeared to be experiencing now. He stared at the Earl in utmost confusion and, perhaps, betrayal too.
“Who— who are you— Mana—” Like a broken record, Allen repeated the name of his adopted father as he dropped to the ground, his arms hanging slack at his side, weeping. The man had been a clown Tricia recalled, died suddenly after only a few years.
The Earl’s name, as far as Tricia was aware, was Adam. She’d never heard the Earl answer to a different one or even point out a middle name. His eyes, golden as Allen’s had been for a moment, flashed, revealing a depth of emotion Tricia couldn’t even begin to decipher.
“Who—” the Earl started, then closed his mouth again, utterly transfixed on Allen, studying him like he was the most mesmerizing sight. “You’re Nea— my— no.”
Just as Allen before, the Earl sunk to his knees, holding his head in his hands as he rambled, struggled, madness taking ahold of him.
It scared her.
“Fuck.” She was distantly aware that Tyki had cursed and any other time, she would reprimand him, but then he took a step forward to the boy, his skin turning pale and ashen, dark like scorched earth.
“Menino, let’s go.” He grabbed Allen by his arms, tried to help him up, but the boy wouldn’t move.
“Mana,” he said again. “That’s— Mana!”
He shouted the last part, desperation bleeding into it and that, like nothing else, seemed to set the Earl off again, reach him somewhere deep within. With tear-stricken eyes, he looked at the duo, something like clarity returning to him. “Allen?”
As if his name were a magic word, breaking the spell and returning strength to Allen. The young man tore himself free from Tyki, rushed to the Earl’s side and crashed into him, nearly toppling them over. He clung to the man like a desperate child, crying out for their parent.
And then, as if it couldn’t get any stranger, a door that should not be opened right in front of them and out of it stepped her daughter, wearing a frilly white outfit, her eyes decades older than Tricia had ever seen.
“Road,” she started but fell silent when her daughter’s golden eyes landed on her. “You need leave,” Road ordered. “Joyd, Desires, go.”
Sheril looked as if he’d been struck. “Road—”
“Go,” Road insisted. “I’ll explain later.”
A good mother would have stood at her daughter’s side. A better mother knew when to trust her child. Leaving the trio behind was the most difficult thing Tricia had ever done. The strange embrace, while obviously personal, still drew her in.
And then it was over, Tricia standing outside, her brother-in-law still looking.
Well.
Non-human.
I don’t hurt humans, Allen had said. So what exactly was Tyki, Road, Sheril – her entire family.
And the Earl, listening to Mana, Allen calling out for his dead father.
There were so many things to consider, this unsettling appearance of her family, magical doors and the like, but Tricia couldn’t shake this image of Allen crying as realization dawned upon her.
The Earl had no wife, no other blood family that she knew of, no heirs.
But Tyki was a bastard and his circumstances hadn’t been the best. Wisely had grown up on the streets, like followed like. And then were Tyki’s many disappearances to account for, traveling all over the country, chasing something, following the Earl’s demands.
“Is Allen the Earl’s son?” Tricia asked, only belated noticing she had said it out loud when the two men turned to her.
“What?” Sheril looked confused but Tyki… There was contemplation there.
“He called him Mana. It is his father’s name – and the Earl obviously recognized him.”
And the Earl’s appearance in the noble circles had been sudden. The man had been gone for years and refused to talk of this time. Maybe he’d had a child with a commoner that he’d been forced to abandon, or perhaps thought dead? Who knew what the church would do to a bastard born with snow-white hair and such a burned arm.
No wonder Allen had ended up on the streets—
Dear Lord, the Earl’s son had been a prostitute.
One who’d known Tyki and Tricia hoped to God it hadn’t been in the biblical sense.
“Please tell me you didn’t fuck him,” Tricia told Tyki, suddenly too exhausted to care about any manners given the impossible magic, the fact that Tyki still looked like a demon. “For the love of God, please tell me you didn’t—” Rethinking how easily she could see through Tyki’s poker face nowadays, Tricia decided to switch tactics. “Never mind, just be silent. I don’t want to be lied to anymore.”
Tricia had too many things to consider.
Sighing, she wiped her fingers on her dress and put a lock of hair behind her ear, knowing her appearance was still prim and proper, yet yearning to wash the day’s turbulences off her skin and dress anew.
She did not feel like thinking this over, but preparations had to be made.
“Where are you going?” Sheril asked when he saw her depart.
“I will prepare a room,” Tricia explained. “Allen is bound to stay here, and as he is a guest of the house, I will see to his care.”
She was the Lady of the house; it was her job to ensure all the guests were cared for.
Even if they were bastard children of Earls, who may-or-may-not have been intimate with her brother-in-law, who was maybe a demon, an action which could potentially lead to their imprisonments.
Or, perhaps, especially when Tricia’s guest was an exhausted and terrified boy in need of a home.
“Tricia!”
The explanation for the demon magic could wait. If she hadn’t known until now, then the church wasn’t bound to find out any time soon and they could be excommunicated and burned at the stake another time.
She’d hear it someday in the future, but no time could be wasted when there was somebody to protect.
Tricia Kamelot got to work.