Morning came, and the sun rose with Gunter.
He made his way down the staircase and headed into the kitchen. The sun had only just begun to rise, casting the world in an orange glow. He never felt more alive than in these quiet moments.
Mornings had always been Gunter's haven. The sins of yesterday seemed to wash away as they were baptised by the rising sun. He saw the couch in the common room, and with it he could still picture a young Zeven curled tightly into himself. Zeven had never been a good sleeper, but for the first year he spent outside of the castle he only rarely seemed to sleep. Gunter would walk down the stairs in the wee hours of the morning only to be met with a blank stare that followed him wherever he would go.
The first year was the hardest. Zeven had no sense of familial relations and personality apart from statues. They made many milestones the first year. Thinking about them made Gunter smile even to this day. He loved that boy, and that was enough for him.
Gunter's eyes still fixated on the couch as he remembered the first time he ever saw Zeven sleeping. His arms and legs pulled close as his head rested on the arm of the sofa. He looked so small in that moment, and it was easy to forget that he would someday become king of Tamsia. It was also early in the morning that day. Gunter had slipped his hands under Zevens knees and arms and had carried him back to his room atop the staircase. Zeven had been such a small child then. If not for his short hair and unwavering eyes he could have been mistaken for a girl.
As he carried the small Zeven to bed that morning, Gunter couldn't stop himself from wondering who his own children would have become. There were days that he wished he would have died with them, but seeing Zeven's small face gave him a new purpose in life.
Carefully, so as not to wake him, Gunter opened the door to Zeven's room and carefully laid him on the bed. Zeven was still wearing his black boots, he never walked around without his shoes on. Gunter figured it was a habit ingrained in him from the castle. He got to work untying the shoes and slipping them off. Zeven stirred for a moment before slipping back to sleep. After Gunter finished removing the shoes, he tucked Zeven underneath the blankets. The bed had been made and stayed in a state of perfection adding to the illusion that Zeven never slept.
As Gunter turned away, a small hand caught him by the cuff of his shirt. He turned around to the sleepy eyes that stared at him. "I don't hate you…" Zeven's voice was soft and low, as he fought to keep his heavy eyes open. "Sometimes I wish that you were my dad…" the words cut through Gunter's heart and he found himself unable to meet Zeven's gaze. Zeven didn't let go, but Gunter felt the tug of his shirt as Zeven couldn't keep his arm straight any longer.
Instead of pulling away, Gunter stepped closer before sitting on the edge of the bed. Zeven almost instinctively curled closer to him. Gunter figured that in this moment it was acceptable to forget the fact that Zeven was going to be a king one day, because he was still a child right now. Reaching out, Gunter ran his fingers through Zeven's short, curly hair. Almost immediately Zeven fell back asleep. Gunter was sure he would forget most of what happened by the time he woke up. He couldn't help but wish that Zeven were his son as well.
The trance broke and Gunter was once again standing in the common room. He continued his trek to the kitchen. He turned the corner and in the dim light he petrified by the sight before him. Zeven was slumped over the counter and Chris laid on the cold stone ground. There was blood on the floor between the two of them. Gunter's breath caught as he saw the bloody knife on the counter by Zeven. Fearing the worst, Gunter snapped out of his shock and immediately rushed to Zeven's side.
He placed his hand on Zeven's shoulder and shook frantically. He heard Zeven mumble something, but Gunter was absorbed in checking him for injury. Not even bothering to open his eyes Zeven whispered gruffly, "Gunter I love and respect you, but I went to sleep maybe three hours ago and I would have liked to have been woken up in a gentler method." He was only half serious, he put a hand on Gunter's shoulder and gave in a squeeze in a reassuring way.
"Christopher is-" "Sleeping, she's just sleeping." Zeven said. "I apologize for worrying you this early." Gunter straightened and looked over at Chris. He could see her breathing and if he listened he could hear it too. She might as well have been dead as out of it she was. She probably hadn't had a restful night since arriving and even then she had been out to war for the last eight months so its unlikely she had one during that time. It would be a sin to wake her now, but Gunter couldn't do anything with her laying there.
"Can you move her?"
"And wake her? Not a chance. Do you know how hard it was to get her to sleep in the first place?"
"Don't wake her, just move her."
Zeven sighed. He knew this task fell to him for several reasons, but that didn't stop him from sighing. He got off the bar chair rolled his neck and stretched his back before crouching down beside Chris. Slowly he shifted his arms underneath her before rising with her in his arms. A look back to Gunter reassured him that he was doing it correctly. Then he started to make his way to her room.
Chris stirred only for a second as she was picked up, but immediately settled back after turning into Zeven's chest. She was close enough he could make out the lines of her face. He felt his chest tighten as her features blended into that of the woman he once knew. He was ever so much younger then; he could do nothing as the woman he loved was killed. The guilt threatened to swallow him whole. It kept him for days and when he finally found rest, it would plague his sleep.
Zeven felt powerless to the guilt, but seeing Christopher in his arms gave him a new hope. Maybe he couldn't save the woman, but he was no longer a powerless child. He had grown into a man with the power to save countless lives. If there could be peace between Tamsia and Ametade, then he believed that both his soul and hers could be saved.
The door to Chris's room was already ajar so all Zeven had to do was nudge it open with his foot. He made his way up the second set of stairs and carefully shifted Chris in his arms. Trying not to drop her on the bed and wake her, Zeven took his time gently setting her down. Then in an almost caring fashion, draped a blanket over her frame before retreating down the stairs and closing her door. It had only been seconds, but he already missed the feel of holding her in his arms.