Chapter 2: In the Bank

It's been eight years since the drift between him and his father was permanently etched into poor Adrian's heart. Eight years of silence at the dinner table, eight years of silence throughout the entire castle. Since the boy stopped picking bugs, he started to hear less and less laughter coming from the west wing. Hell, the only laughter that was ever muttered was the sound of Viola and her friends during sleepovers. Adrian would watch as her never-ending amount of poor friends would laugh in Vi's face, yet steal whenever they had the chance. Adrian tried to bring it up to her, but every time she claimed that she knew and she "wanted" them to have it.

"You're lying, Vi." Adrian rested himself along her doorframe. His hair, having time to grow, had now reached his shoulders. His clothing became more refined, along with his sharp tongue. "You and I both know, they don't want to be your friend."

"Then why do they come around?"

"Cause you're rich. Why else." He raised his arms to the obvious answer to a stupid question. "If I were you, I would let them pay to be my friend." His words caused Viola too hastily turn around. Along her face was a redness that would make a cardinal look pallid.

"Maybe that's why you have no friends!" She began to slightly laugh as she spoke. "Aren't you the one eating lunch alone every day at school? Why would I want to be like you?" Adrian's face started to feel the sensation of tingling where his eyes were. Gosh you're stupid. You have never seen the truth yet.

"That's my point, Vi." He rested his hands upon her shoulder as he spoke. Just treat her how our father treated me. When I was stupid… and naïve. "I'm an outcast, but wait until I have the title as king. I'll be as popular as dad." The boy watched as his sister's once stern face softened into child-like wonder.

"Do you…" Tears were now on the other foot, but instead she didn't try to hold them back. "Do you really think we'll have true friends one day?" He only nodded so he could resist blurting out the truth.

"Of course we will. We just need to hold on." Although he was angry his voice couldn't help but soften at the girl's childish thoughts. Before their empty conversation continued they heard the bell of Jaya, one of their new servants ring for their supper. A heavy wave of glee swept over Viola's face as she spoke.

"What do you think it is? Oh I bet it's Pasta!" With this excited tone, she began to hastily run her way down to confirm her child-like wonders. He sighed. Maybe there is a timeline where he is more than happy to chase after her. Heck, maybe there is a timeline where he is more imaginative. But alas, nothing. He wasn't childish enough to run after her, nor was he dumb enough to place bets on what died to be placed under their silver plate cover. In his mind, he was better. He was way better than the animal to even acknowledge its existence. He was way superior to the people at his school to acknowledge their upbringing. He was far greater than Viola to chase her down some rugged stairs.

"I'm better than all of you." His whispered to where only he could hear

"What?" Or so he thought. When he looked in front of him he saw Jaya holding the golden bell in her hand. "I didn't really hear what you said." Her presence caused his face to scrunched up.he had only heard rumors of how ugly she was, it wasn't until today he actually confirmed it.

"I said nothing!" His body straightened as he shoved past her to get his due of food. "Who told you to even walk this far, mutt? You know where your limit is!" His face became flooded with anger as he realized the amount of rules she broke.

"I-I"

"I, Nothing!" The Stern boy swept his hand to dismiss her voice. "First off, you pass the wing limit. Secondly, you speak to me without formality. What, you say. I better not ever hear you speak to me like that. Is that understood?" With tears now streaming down her face, she nodded.

"I am so sorry, Your Majesty." She took some huffs before continuing. "The king asked me to come get you personally. Please don't get mad at me!" What did dad want with me personally? Did he think I wasn't coming to eat? He took another sigh before turning to leave the shaken woman by herself.

"What does he want?" Adrian rubbed his chin as he walked. Still deep in thought, he forgot to admire the beautiful spruce frame. The way it curved at the ends. The way the wooden carving got lighter in the middle due to his younger self scratching constantly. Honestly, he didn't know which was more beautiful. The wooden frame, or the beautiful picture of the woman that sat inside it. The woman inside the photo wore a light blue dress to match her eyes. Along her neck and ear were classic rounded pearls that clearly showed her royalty. Her dark brown hair looked perfect as she strangled it together in a tightwards bun. Adrian to this day can remember exactly what he etched into the frame.

Here lies Nicole Veyron.

Even though the portrait held great meaning to him, he ignored it. Too deep in thought about what his father had in store. Was it nice? Was it evil? No. he was stern, but not rude. Adrian couldn't tell if he despised him or loved him for that fact. No king should be fearful of striking someone down, but he on the other hand did. Adrian remembers the time where his father would send thieves to the dungeon, instead of chopping their heads for all to remember. If it was him, they would've died right then and there. Those poor people for you. They steal and steal until there's nothing left. As he made his way closer he could hear the sound of His father and sister speaking. Just as she made his way down, he felt the simple breeze hit the base of his neck. What was that? He turned only to see the sentence to the east wing. Ever since that happened he has never found the courage to venture along that side of the house. No matter what he lost, no matter what game Viola forced him to play. He was NEVER going over to the east wing.

"It's fine." Adrian then re-hoisted himself to forget what lived on that side of the house. Nothing, but vacancy and lies. After a quick second of reminding himself. He made his way downstairs to enjoy whatever resigned in his plate.