While the two men were battling the woes of cutlery, Altair was having a crisis of his own.
Was he intentionally avoiding Lucien?
Yes. He was.
It started yesterday, when he and Caelum went to check up on Lucien.
---
Silence.
They walked toward his room, discussing strategies to help him understand why what he did was reckless and dangerous—without making him feel attacked or guarded.
The door opened automatically.
And they froze.
Lucien lay collapsed on the floor, cheeks flushed with fever, a vivid bruise blossoming across his back.
Altair's breath caught in his throat.
He couldn't move.
Caelum dropped to his knees instantly, pressing a hand to Lucien's forehead, guilt flooding through his veins like poison.
"I hurt him," Altair whispered.
Caelum didn't speak. He couldn't.
He only turned to the nearest servant and said, "Call a doctor. Now."
---
Ever since, Altair couldn't close his eyes without seeing that bruise.
That bruise he caused.
On Lucien.
Who had only been trying to save their parents.
It was like a knife stabbing into his heart again and again—the pain never numbing, always just as sharp as the first moment.
He made his way to his room, lost in his torment, only to be stopped by a gentle tug on his shirt.
He looked down—startled—and met a familiar pair of ember-colored eyes.
He froze.
But Lucien didn't say anything. He simply tugged again, guiding him.
"Let's talk," Lucien said softly, leading him to his room.
---
As soon as the door closed, the questions started.
"You're avoiding me. Why?"
Altair tried to hold himself together, answering with as much calm as he could summon.
"I'm not avoiding you, Lucien. Why would you say that?"
He looked away.
"I've just been… really busy," he mumbled. "I did talk to you yesterday, didn't I?"
His voice wavered at first, but he forced it to grow firm by the end—like a shield.
Lucien watched him quietly for a long moment, then sighed, the fight leaving his body.
"I see. Then it must've been an overthought on my part. I apologize for bothering you."
Altair's heart dropped.
He stared in disbelief as Lucien turned and headed for the door.
"I'll see you in the dining room, then."
The door clicked shut behind him.
---
Altair stood frozen for a second—then broke.
"Arghhh, what is wrong with me!" he growled, clutching at his hair and sinking to the floor.
He buried his face in his hands, his voice gritty with self-loathing.
"You're not a bother, Lucien. You never were. I'm just—"
He choked.
"I'm just a stupid, weak brother… too much of a coward to apologize. Scared that you'll remember what I did—and hate me."
He lay on the cold floor, eyes staring up at the ceiling as tears slid silently down his face.
"Please don't hate me," he whispered.
---
After pulling himself together and freshening up, Altair made his way to the dining room—
—only to be greeted by the sight of Caelum critiquing Father's "arrangement skills" while Lucien took pictures of Audius wearing a pink apron that read "Kiss the Chef."
It was probably the years of self-control forged through countless battles that saved both Caelum and Lucien from being smacked on the spot.
Mother was laughing freely, tossing in the occasional jab as if this was her favorite show.
Then Father caught sight of Altair, and his face lit up like a chandelier. His eyes sparkled like he'd just spotted his long-lost heir—or perhaps a lost wine bottle.
"Altair, my boy! Come over here!" he said grandly. "What do you think of this arrangement? Lovely, isn't it?"
Altair blinked at the table. He honestly didn't know what to think.
Does the way you arrange food really matter if you're just going to eat it?
Ridiculous.
But, in order not to wound his father's fragile ego, he decided to indulge him.
"It's… very unique and different," Altair said, with carefully measured neutrality. "A blend of elegance and strength."
Caelum shot him a disbelieving look, eyes narrowed. Then came the jab:
"You speak as if you have the slightest clue what elegance means. I wonder what trash qualifies as elegant in your book."
Altair blinked in mock horror.
"Caelum, how could you say that? You know I consider you elegant. Why call yourself trash?"
Caelum the Trash: "..."
Lucien snorted and looked away, trying not to laugh.
Father didn't even bother hiding it—he laughed out loud.
Mother pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress her grin.
Even Audius's lips twitched.
Caelum stood there, staring at Altair like he'd been personally betrayed by all of humanity.
"Alright, everyone, we've had our fun. Sit down, let's eat. And Lucien—stop taking pictures of Audius, will you? Come sit near Mommy," Selene said softly.
Audius gave her a grateful gaze which she responded with a smile.
"Yes mother" Lucien said calmly
Lucien went to sit next to mother, but everyone could see how shy he was due to how red his ear was.
He was going to sit next to father but caelum was a second too faster.
"Go sit next to Lucien—there's an empty seat there," he said languidly.
But he understood the meaning behind his words… and appreciated it all the more.
He really did want to sit next to Lucien but he couldn't bring himself to do it, but now he had a reason to
They all sat down and began to dine, everyone was laughing and chatting.
Caelum commented on how the steaks were dry and the tea was warm and funny tasting only to receive a smack at the back of the head from father while mother fussed over Lucien giving him more food while Lucien just looked amused and helpless.
It was going well laughter, warmth and joy filled the room.
It was lovely until a sniffle was heard, it was soft but it was so distinct from the warmth atmosphere.
He turned to his side where the sound came from only to see that it was Lucien and he wasn't the only one looking....
Lucien was crying.....