118

"They’ve gone. So what are we going to do with him?" Amar asked, referring to Colin.

"I don’t know. I don’t exactly know anything about handling dead bodies."

"Well, I’d figured you would know since you’ve killed someone before."

"Amar! I was just a child," Toreh explained.

"A very dangerous one, to be exact. Thinking of it, I wonder what Lady Victoria did that caused you to kill her."

"We could burn him," Toreh suggested, avoiding Amar’s indirect question.

"If we lit a fire, it would wake people up."

"Well, we have to do something," Toreh said with a sigh.

"I don’t know, okay? I’ve run out of ideas."

"Call Wilhelm."

"What?"

"It’s his mess. We can’t clean it up for him."

"We don’t need his help. We’ll handle it ourselves."

"Amar, if you don’t call him, I will."

Amar eyed her sister. "Since when did you become so bossy?"

"I don’t know, since you met the prince, I guess. You’ve just been acting so controlling."

"I haven’t been!"

"Been too!"

"Been not!"

"I’m not going to argue with you. I’ll call Wilhelm and have him clear up this mess."

"Well, you be fast with that. It’s almost sunrise."

"See? Controlling!"

"The only thing I can see are flies approaching us! Hurry up with the phone call, will you?" she asked before adding, "please?"

"Fine," Amar muttered as she fished out her phone. She dialed Wilhelm’s number, and he picked up after the fourth ring, sighing.

"Did I wake you perhaps?" she asked, putting it on speaker for Toreh’s benefit.

"Nah, yo only saved me from having to wrap presents with Eloive."

Toreh frowned. "I didn’t know Eloive cared about Boxing Day."

"Hello to you too Toreh. And no he doesn’t. Waxlyn’s making him do it. What’s up?"

"My mother is in jail because of you. So be the gentleman you are and get her out."

Toreh gave Amar a look, which she waved off. "I’m no gentleman Amar. A prince maybe, but no gentleman. Plus, no one gets arrested during the festive season so I advise that you actually tell me why you called."

"Am I supposed to have a reason for calling you?"

"Of course. I’m a prince Amar. I’ve got duties to attend to, phone calls to make, virtual meetings to attend. The season doesn’t mean I’m on holiday. So if you call, and I answer, I expect you to make it worthwhile."

"Toreh was right. You truly are awful. Forget I called. We’ll take care of Colin’s corpse on our own."

"Amar wait!"

She hung up, sniffing. "I say we ship his corpse off to the palace. Make it the very first present the royal family receives."

Amar laughed. "That won’t make us look responsible, will it?"

"Of course not, but who cares? We only live once after all."

Amar laughed again. "I’m really proud to have you as my sister, Toreh."

"Same here, Amar. Now let’s get this baby wrapped up."

…..

"What’s with all this wrapping paper?" Izal asked as he stepped into his son’s room.

"Well, I’m wrapping presents for later today," Yale replied, not looking at him.

"Mind if I join you? I don’t have anything doing at the moment."

Yale eyed him. "You need two arms to wrap presents, father. And the way I see it, you’re down to just one."

Izal was aghast. "You did not just say that to me."

"Yes, I did."

Izal glared. "Your mother would turn in her grave if she was to learn of this new you."

"There is no new me. This is who I am, who I’ve always been. You just didn’t realize because you were too busy with work."

"I’m not too busy now, am I? I just want to help, Yale," Izal said softly.

"If you want to help, then be there for me! Uncle Thane has his hands full, but he still and always has time for Waxlyn and her troubles. You on the other hand, possess only a hand but you prefer to bury yourself in work than make time for me, your son! It’s been four years since mum died, three since you lost your arm, yet in all those years, you never bothered to check up on me. So, I was forced to socialize with Waxlyn, and you and I both know how much I hate her guts!" Yale yelled.

"I hate yours too, Yale," Waxlyn said as she walked into the room unannounced, carrying a box. She dropped it on the ground.

"What do you have there?" Izal asked, gesturing to the box.

"I wish I knew. I’m just the messenger," Waxlyn replied.

"Who gave you the box, Waxlyn?" Yale asked.

"I don’t know."

"And you thought it wise to bring a box that you don’t know what’s in it into my son’s room?" Izal shouted.

"Hey!" Waxlyn screamed. "Don’t shout at me, okay? We just have to open the box to know what’s in it."

Yale cursed mentally. "Waxlyn, if this is one of your pranks, I suggest you stop it now."

"Me? I’ve quit pranking a long time ago. Open the box, Yale."

Yale moved forward. Izal stopped him. "Are you crazy? There might be a bomb in there or something."

"There’s only one way to find out," Yale said and tried sidestepping his dad. Izal blocked his path.

"Don’t act like you care about me, father!"

"None of this is an act, which is why I’m asking you to let me open the box."

"No. There’s no way I’m letting you open the box," said Yale. "We could get a servant to open it."

"A servant?" Waxlyn asked. "They are all asleep."

"No, not all," Yale said, stepping away from Izal. "Gales!" he exclaimed. "We could call Gales, the secret library’s librarian to open the box."

"He is not permitted to leave the library unguarded, son," Izal stated.

"That’s why you shall guard the library while he’s here!" Waxlyn announced.

"You can’t be serious," Izal began. "That’s…"

"An excellent idea!" Yale finished. "Think about it, father. You guard the library while he guards us."

"I’m not so sure about…"

"Come on, Uncle Izal. Please?" Waxlyn asked, batting her eyelids.

"Fine!" Izal said before walking away.

Gales appeared a moment later, and Waxlyn took her time to look at him. She had heard of him, but never really seen him. Not even when she went up to the library.

His hair was tousled and fell in messy waves around his face, adding to his charm, if he had any. He wore a faded shirt that had seen better days with the color faded from years of use. He was tall, taller than Yale. His lips were chapped, fingernails unkept.

He reminded her of one of those slave boys she had seen, and Waxlyn wondered how they put him in charge of her family’s secrets.

He was so dirty.

"My prince, I was told you sent for me?"

His voice was rough, and Waxlyn wondered if he was suffering from a sore throat.

"Yes, I did. There’s a box that we need you to open for us," Yale said, pointing at the box. Gales stared at it, and Waxlyn wondered what was going through his mind.

"Didn’t you hear my brother? Open the box!"

"I heard him, so you need not raise your voice on me," he snarled.

Waxlyn gasped. "How dare you? You son of a…."

She shut up abruptly. She couldn’t swear. It was immoral to do so.

Yale turned to Gales. "Your mouth’s just as dirty as your appearance. Open the box. The sooner we’re rid of your presence, the better."

Begrudgingly, Gales knelt before the box while Waxlyn and Yale leaned closer. He shot both of them a look before opening the box, revealing what laid inside.

Whatever it was, it only appeared to be wrapped.

"Well then, what are you waiting for? Unwrap it."

"You want me to unwrap your Christmas present?" Gales asked, uncertain.

"He made himself clear the first time, didn’t he?" Waxlyn asked. Gales looked at her. She looked away.

"Unwrap it, Gales. This is an order from your prince," Yale demanded.

Gales scoffed. "Well, you and your orders can go to hell for all I care. I’m not doing shit."

And with that, he walked out of the room, leaving both of them confused.

"He swore," Waxlyn muttered.

"He disobeyed me."

"He swore, not just once but twice," she said before turning to Yale, an evil glint in her eye. "I say we make him pay."