Abel's eyes started to flutter and Naomi noticed. She rose slowly from her seat as he finally closed his eyes. She looked at his peaceful face as sleep took him, his chest rising up and down in a rhythmic manner. She stood there for a while just staring at him. His sores were still very apparent but his condition had stabilised. The way she had seen him when she first entered her fiancé's medical tent would haunt her for the rest of her life. He was naked and shivering on a table. The moment they met eyes, he smiled weakly and whispered, "Big sister." Everything that happened after that was a blur but it ended with her being wanted for murder. Two murders.
She ran her good hand through his red hair. It was oily and coarse like he had not bathed in weeks. She had only left him with them for three. She had trusted them with her only family and they had turned him into a... It was just too much for her to think about. She pulled up the covers up to his chin. It was afternoon already so she went to the windows and drew the blinds. He would be able to sleep soundly this way. She left the room. The room next to his was hers but she was hesitant to go back. She had never been an indoors person and even though the castle walls served as protection it made her slightly claustrophobic.
She passed by her room and walked through the rest of the hallway. She soon met herself in an elegantly furnished living room. It had all-black furniture and a rather grey hue. It was not to Naomi's taste but she did wait a while to take it in. Naomi preferred brighter accents even if she could not afford them. She had always hoped that little by little she would become successful enough to do it. The incident would derail her life if not completely destroy it. She was just a nameless village girl who sold handmade leather bags.
She heard something that did not suit the sombre but exquisite vibe of the castle. It was a woman singing. Naomi listened in carefully.
"What is love? I ask myself
They say it is when you can't stop aching for them,
They say it is when you tackle the world as two
They say it makes you want to live again,
But I tell them that I never asked them,
Because I already know,
Love is when you give them your heart in one hand,
And a knife in the other,
And you hope they don't end you,
But humans are selfish,
And it won't take long before they choose to stab what you have given them..."
Naomi followed the sweet voice out of the living room and to a closed door in another hallway. She hesitated a bit before she opened it slightly and peeked inside. She ignored the strange smell of the room and continued in her search for the owner of the voice. In it was a woman with her back turned to Naomi. It was one of the twins but she was not sure which one it was. She stood there and continued to listen as the woman sang on, in a clear voice. It was sweet yet it had a bass-like vigour to it. It was hypnotising and the lyrics were engaging. It continued to tell its story and she found herself unable to interrupt the woman.
"Hello," The woman said and turned to her. "How long were you planning on listening for free?" She teased without smiling.
Naomi was still recovering from the shock of being caught and she could only stutter out an apology. "So...sorry, I will leave."
"No, no," She finally cracked a wide smile. "I was only teasing you. You can come in."
Naomi gave an unsure smile and slipped in and closed the door. The room was nothing like a bedroom, instead it looked like a gigantic bathroom. It had a big bath-like container at its centre. In it was what looked like liquidised metal. It was grey with a very distinct lustre. The room itself smells heavily of a metallic odour that caused her to crinkle her nose. It was a thicker variant of what Sebastien smelt like. Naomi sat on a stool beside the twin and watched as she stirred a pair of white gloves in the concoction with a wooden stick. She looked around to see different pieces of clothing hung on rods attached supposedly to dry. They included trousers, a waistcoat, a jacket, a white shirt and soon. They were all part of a man's clothes.
"It is for Sebastien." She said, reading Naomi's mind. "So that he can wear them..."
"Without turning them silver," Naomi took the words right out of her mouth. So it was true that he had the silver touch, it sounded like something out of a fairy tale. "What is that?" She asked, pointing to the odd fluid in the bath.
"Molten silver," She answered. "mixed with a special sprite so that the silver does not solidify."
"How did you figure that out?" Intrigued by how they were able to solve such a problem. She imagined how hard it would be to wear clothes of solid silver literally and figuratively.
The woman's smile faded. "From the king." She answered. Naomi did not notice the shift in her mode.
"The king?" Confused, she asked. "How would he know that?" But she did not voice that question.
"A father would care for his son," She said.
It sounded out of context until Naomi pieced it together and her eyes widened. She had heard a few people talk about the fact that 'The silver prince' had royal blood but she had never been interested enough to take it seriously. She thought it was just another rumour that would pass after another intriguing one became a talking point.
"I know it is hard to believe but he is a prince." Then she murmured solemnly to herself. "Everyone seems to forget that part."
"I heard a few people talk about that but you can not tell which things are true and which are not." She explained. "So which are you...?" Trying to change the topic.
"Oh, I am Matilda," She answered. "The older one." She smiled again. "And you dear? What is your name?"
"Naomi, Naomi Forger," She supplied. "Can I help you out in any way?"
Matilda chuckled lightly. "I thought you would sleep for the whole day because of your injuries but I guess I underestimated you,"
She smiled. "Big time," She felt at ease with her, like an aunt she had known all her life or was it because she saved her? "Aunty?"
"Huh?" She asked without finding it odd that Naomi had called her aunty.
"Aren't you afraid that I might be a murderer?" It had been bugging her that her hostess did not question her on something so daunting.
There was silence before she finally answered. "In all my fifty-two years on earth, I can say that I have met an array of people," She started. "Including murderers,"
Naomi listened cautiously to every word.
"A murderer would never carry a sick child with a broken arm while being pursued, they are too narcissistic to be physically capable of such." She turned to her. "Not only did you do that but you were desperate enough to go knocking on the gates of 'the devil castle'."
"Yet all the people that had watched me grow did not give me a benefit of the doubt," She mumbled sadly to herself and kept quiet with her head down in thought.
Matilda nudged her gently. "Do you want to talk about it?" She pulled out the gloves that she had been stirring with the stick. She got up and hung it on a rod.
"It is still puzzling to me, I am not sure..."
"Come on," She encouraged as she came back to sit beside her. "You know the saying a problem shared is a problem half solved."
Naomi took a deep breath, "Alright, I..."
The door creaked open suddenly, making Naomi flinch and hold on to Matilda.
"Don't worry," Mary entered. "It is only me."
Naomi breathed a sigh of relief and loosened her grip on Matilda.
"You don't have to worry about Sebastein coming in here," Matilda assured. "He hates this place, especially the smell."
"I can't believe that boy really picked a fight with you yesterday." Mary huffed as she sat down beside the two. "But you don't need to fear him, he would not hurt a fly."
Naomi was not convinced in the slightest. She still felt insulted because he had spoken to her but was scared he would strike back because of how she had spoken to him. She had to avoid him at least it seemed that the twins would be looking out for her.
"Her name is Naomi," Matilda was telling Mary before she turned her attention back to Naomi. "So you were saying..."
Naomi interrupted her, to be precise her stomach did. It let out a rumble.
"That was what I was here for, forgetful me," Mary lamented. "Dear, you did not touch the food I served you."
"You have not eaten?" Matilda's tone was serious.
"I went to see my brother and forgot all about it, sorry."
Mary's face looked downcast. "We understand if you don't want to eat what we give you, don't worry." She sounded hurt.
"No, it is not that," Naomi was quick to say. "I will go and eat it right now." She stood again.
"No, it is cold now," Mary said, also standing. "I will help you make another dish." Her jovial tone was back.
"I will help," Naomi offered, trying her best to make up for her mistake.
"But your arm..."
"Let her help," Matilda said in support of Naomi. "She is fine,"
"Alright then," Mary gave up. "Let us go then."
"And we will talk later, okay?"
"Yes," As she followed Mary out of the room.