The scene at the glass shard gave Sangfroid hope. This means that there is a small chance that Vladstin would desire to be human again.
Vladstin had kept his end of the deal well on the first night. Not only did he send food and drinks for Leron, he himself asked for the people to give him mattresses and sheets for the prince's beddings. Sangfroid doesn't know why he would lie and say that he voluntarily gave half of his mattresses to Leron, when in truth it was from several different survivors.
The sentence that Vladstin had given him that night was too vague to discern anything from. Vladstin held out the parchment and cleared his throat like some grand messenger of the gods. "Gaug'in, my friend, I do not have much time."
Vladstin closed it as quickly as he opened it with a smarmy smile. "That's it! Wonder who this Gaug'in fella is, and who the hell is writing this letter, or why he's running out of time. Have any ideas?"
Gaug'in....
The name brought a fragment of an image for a second, a man's blurry smiling face. But it disappeared so quickly before Sangfroid could even realize it, so Sangfroid merely shook his head.
Vladstin gave an indignant snort. "Boring. Better use those brain fluids as much as you can while you're still alive. Ta-ta! " Vladstin, carrying behind his back the ridiculously large bag of things to be delivered to Leron, jump into the wind and vanished from thin air, merging with the shadows in the night.
"He looked like a turtle." The young child with a weasel stuffed toy, Asvian, watched the vampire lord with amazement instead of fear.
"A very fast turtle."
"No human could carry a bag twice his size and run that fast." Asver put his hands on Asvian's shoulders. He turned to Sangfroid. "Are you sure he would be willing to give up that much power in exchange of being human?"
These words also haunted Sangfroid's thoughts as he laid in bed, watching the happenings in the glass shard.
"I want to feel again, Leron. Help me."
On one hand, Vladstin enjoys being powerful and having nothing to stand in his way. On the other, he also wants to feel human emotions, which he could not once he became a vampire. Sangfroid doesn't know how to convince him to let go of his powers, he needs to find a way for his desire to have emotions to outweigh that.
He doesn't know what to feel about the.... very awkward childhood memory that Vladstin and Leron had just witnessed. He's not judging Vladstin either, he did not have that kind of embarrassing experience, but he's still a man after all. He could understand his impulses and cravings.
If His Highness did not leave Ilvedia at such a young age and Sangfroid wasn't so pious.... Who knows what kind of vexing things he would have thought about His Highness?
Alas, he is a pure man of a conservative nature, so he behaves himself unlike the pagan Prince of Crescentia.
Sangfroid felt like he shouldn't pry on the two's memories anymore, he already learned too much than he should have. Despite his curiosity and slowly boiling jealousy from seeing Leron so close to another man, his righteous nature had sunk it back down and he decided to go to sleep. Vladstin was not maltreating Leron, that's what matters. He put the glass shard at the side of his bed and closed his eyes.
Playing in the fields with His Highness at that age must be nice. The last time he played with His Highness on the gardens of Santimeida was eleven years ago.....
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"Come on, Sangfroid! You're going to miss the butterflies!"
Leron was running ahead of him, the sun giving a light sheen to his smooth black hair. As a young child barely six years old, Sangfroid found him to be the most beautiful being he had ever seen. He must be blessed by the Dragon Lord above all else, or maybe by the Holy Mothers. He thought that this must be how angels look like, only without the scaly hands and sharp, magnificent wings.
"I'm coming, Big Bwother!" Little Sangfroid lisped, struggling to catch up. The adult him would have easily surpassed Leron by a few hundred yards, but the young him was weak and clumsy, tripping over rocks with his bare, dirty feet.
Sangfroid couldn't understand what he sees in him. Out of all the young children in the Chapel, why would a noble prince like him choose to spend time with a frail and sickly child? Was it out of pity from the tree falling accident? Did he merely stick with the orphan because the orphan kept watching him at mass and following him around? Little Sangfroid was very confused by this and a little guilty.
Such a lowly being like him doesn't deserve to be friends with an angel like that.
"Ayyysh, you're really too slow, Sangfroid!" Leron turned and ran back to him. "We'll never make it in time."
"I.... Hawd to bweathe, Big Bwother." Little Sangfroid really can't roll his Rs in the middle of words, especially when they're beside a consonant. He kept spitting whenever he tries, so he ended up turning them to Ws.
"Oh, you really have a weak pair of lungs, don't you? Poor thing." Leron frowned at him and patted his head. "Hop on my back, I'll carry you!"
"No need.... Big Bwother...." Little Sangfroid shook his head and inhaled heavily. The tips of his ears turned red whenever he was flustered.
"Don't be stubborn, it's the only way we can catch the butterflies in time!" Leron bent his knees and took Little Sangfroid's legs, giving the small orphan a piggyback ride. He raised one of his fists in the air, grinning from ear to ear. "Let's go!"
Sangfroid noticed that he was the only person in Ilvedia who can unlock Leron's playful side. Perhaps it comes with the big brother act that they have, or perhaps he really felt more relaxed and authentic around the young Sangfroid. Whatever it was, it made the one-eyed orphan's heart flutter and warm up.
They soon reached the butterfly sighting spot that Leron was talking about, and the prince slowly set him down. Little Sangfroid gasped at the sight but Leron shushed him, pressing a finger to his lips.
He whispered inconspicuously: "Be quiet. We might scare them."
"En." Little Sangfroid quietly nodded, being as discreet as he can as they observed the butterflies resting on the flower patches. They were the marigolds that were also used to lure fairy lights. Marigolds lure a lot of benign creatures and more blessings, and they were considered by the Draconian religion as holy flowers.
"Aren't they pretty?" Leron said softly to his ear.
Little Sangfroid nodded, eyes gleaming at the different colored butterflies. There were a dozen of them, of different shapes and sizes. Little Sangfroid reached out, but Prince Leron smacked his hand.
"What are you doing!?" Leron chided him in a hushed tone.
".... I want to keep one, Big Bwother." Little Sangfroid pouted at his smacked little hand and looked down.
Leron sighed, and his voice softened. "You shouldn't put something in a cage when it's already living a happy life being free." He took the hand that he smacked and gently rubbed it. "I'm sorry if I reacted so hastily, but I don't want you to harm such animals that are precious to me."
"Big Bwother loves buttewflies?" Little Sangfroid's ears reddened a bit when Leron gently massaged his hand.
"I particularly love all creatures that fly. Hmm... I think it's more than that. I admire them and envy them at the same time."
A cabbage white butterfly fluttered into Leron's cheek without him noticing, and he chuckled in surprise. "Oh hello, little one."
Leron guided the butterfly to his finger and he showed it to Little Sangfroid, who stared at the bug with amazement. "Butterflies don't last long. After escaping from their cocoon, they only live for a couple of weeks. That's why they shouldn't be caged for they already have such a short time to fly around freely."
"I undewstand. I won't twy to keep buttewflies again, Big Bwother." Little Sangfroid promised.
"Have you kept one before?" Leron asked.
"N-No! It's my fiwst time to think of keeping one, but I wouldn't after all if Big Bwother doesn't like it." Little Sangfroid bowed his head, and apologized to the white butterfly he almost caught. "I'm sowwy little buttewfly."
The white butterfly with gold flecks seemingly had an attitude of its own, and turned away from Sangfroid as if it was annoyed at him. Little Sangfroid frowned. "It hates me, Big Bwother."
Leron chuckled. "That's silly. Butterflies can't like or hate someone. You just need to approach it better." He moved his index finger where the white butterfly was resting to Little Sangfroid. "Here. Try leading it to your palm."
Little Sangfroid stretched out his small palm. The white butterfly hesitated a bit, hopping from the edge of Leron's index finger then back to his knuckles, then back to the edge again. After a few seconds, it eventually hopped on Little Sangfroid's palm.
Little Sangfroid was thrilled to be finally holding a butterfly for the first time in his life, not knowing how to react. A small smile spread on his lips. "I'm holding it—"
Just as he spoke, the white butterfly flew away.
He looked so disappointed that Leron cannot stop himself from laughing. "Ah, Sangfroid! I told you to keep quiet, they're very fickle."
Little Sangfroid looked at his empty palm, dazed from the utter betrayal of the butterfly who he thought would want to be friends with him. He frowned, but didn't cry, as he had always been unable to.
Leron found this adorable. He ruffled the small boy's brown hair. "Don't fret too much. That's just life for you, sometimes it doesn't work out the way we wanted."
Little Sangfroid and walked further away from the marigold patch where the butterflies were resting. He sat on damp grass and hugged his knees, sulking. "I don't want to distuwb them anymowe."
To an average person, they might think that Sangfroid was just bored rather than upset, but Leron had always been good at reading emotions, even with someone who is difficult to read like this young orphan. He sat beside him, making his mass of chocolate brown hair even messier.
"Let's do something else. What do you want to do?" Leron asked him.
"Let's just talk about things, Big Bwother." Sangfroid said.
"Might as well. I have to go by sunset, my father is waiting for me."
They talked about various topics with no apparent relation to each other, going on the whim of their conversations. Sangfroid felt the happiest when he and Leron were like this. Just listening to his voice gives him peace and takes away his insecurities and anxiousness. He thinks if he died and go to heaven, he wished that he spend the afterlife just talking and being in the company of the kind Prince Leron.
"It's time to go. Goodbye, Sangfroid!" Leron waved as the sun turned orange behind him, a carriage waiting at the distance.
Little Sangfroid pulled at his sleeves. "You'll be back tomowwow, right?"
Leron smiled at him and patted his head. "Of course."
That was the first time and the last time Leron lied to him. The next morning, he set off to the Kingdom of Crescentia, never to be seen again after nearly a decade.
And Little Sangfroid waited alone with the marigolds and butterflies until sunset.
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