[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/0Hh7rGs.png[/img][/center]
[color=00F8FE]Time: 9:30 am
Location: Anastasia’s Room to his own room
Mentions: Anastasia [@princess], Auguste [@Inertia][/color]

[color=9FA1A4]Callum had shaken his head at much of what Ana said but didn’t argue with her. He only hugged his sister back, it wasn’t the words that mattered, but the support behind them, and, for once, he wasn't looking for an argument. Here, for a moment, there was just the feeling of familial connection, strong enough that it had even pulled Auguste towards them, offering similar sentiments. 

And there it was, what kept him only toeing at the line but never quite crossing it. Despite how much he hated Edin, and despite every day seeing less and less of anything worth knowing left in his mother, there was so much light in his siblings. Times when everything lacking in his parents was so evident in them and all the love and acceptance their parents kept rationed was freely given when they needed it from each other. 

Today even Wulfric had felt a little more like a brother than a distant golden protégé of his father’s. 

[color=00F8FE]“Thanks, for that, it’s nice to hear. I’m here for you, whatever you need. But right now I’d better ready myself for the onslaught of eligible noblewomen.”[/color] He offered another empty smile, leaving shortly after Auguste had, doors closing behind him. It was nice, feeling like part of his family, but it was a fleeting comfort and it did little to stave off what bothered him.

[hr]

Callum retreated to his room, it was less comforting than the castle’s library, but here he was at least alone. He knew he should probably bathe away the scent of last night’s party from his skin, make himself look his most presentable for the absolute sham of The Prince’s Court. He grabbed a bottle from where it sat on his desk only moments after entering. Callum’s choice of drink was cheap, strong, and burned its way down his throat, offering a quick, reliable, source of comfort. 

Someone had gone through his things, but not ransacked, only a few items sat slightly askew from how they normally were, and, for now, he paid it little attention. If it had been someone to worry about it would’ve been much more of a mess, because Callum, kept a great deal of things he shouldn’t in his room. Most of which were hidden in a way that could be described as the bare minimum. Furniture with secret compartments and coded books were no great obstacles for the kind of people his family had on hand if they ever sought to investigate him past the surface. Part of him wanted to know exactly how far they’d go with him if they knew how little he regarded their laws. 

He washed his face only to wake himself up further, wetted down the bits of hair that stayed out of place from his restless night, and used whiskey to wash the taste of stale breath away. He caught glances of his reflection in the mirror, dark circles framed tired eyes, and did he always look so pale? He removed last night's clothes, dressed in a proper suit for the day, and let the scent of the warehouse linger on him. Half-way presentable and maybe just haggard enough to keep his line at Prince’s Court short, surely any guests would prefer his far more presentable brothers.

He spent some time in front of the mirror, drinking from the bottle, and working on excuses for why his appearance was subpar should either parent question him. [color=00F8FE]“I am dressed and on time. I think I look dashing, can’t look any better without a solid’s night sleep-” [i]no that wouldn’t do.[/i][/color] If he brought up his lack of sleep that would only remind his parents of last night. He should avoid that. [color=00F8FE]“I’m pretty sure my face always looks like this. Hair too. Bad genetics.” [i]And probably shouldn’t say that either.[/i] [/color]

He studied his fake smile, hating how fake it made him look. [color=00F8FE][i]A liar’s smile.[/i][/color] But he was a liar, he was just a poor one. [color=00F8FE]“I’d hate to steal the spotlight from my older, better, and woefully unattached, brothers.”[/color] That might be good enough to use on Edin at least. It would probably be better to just smile politely and hide behind Auguste, maybe his parents were upset enough with him that they wouldn’t look at him much anyhow. [color=00F8FE]“And, hey, maybe pigs will take flight, and hell will welcome a sudden cold snap.”[/color]

He gave up on talking to himself and flipped through the notebook on his desk, found a list of what was used from his stash, and tore it out. He memorized what needed stocking up, and rewrote the things more difficult to procure back down, everything he kept for his records was in his own handwriting. He struck a match, burned the original piece of paper, holding it between his fingers until the tips of his fingers stung from the heat, and tossed the last remnants into the fireplace where it finished to burn until only ash was left. Cal was careful to cover up the traces of anyone who broke laws against magic alongside him. There was no room for error here.

He knew if he had he shown this much care towards other aspects of his life, Darryn would’ve never gotten caught in the crosshairs of one of his minor rebellions against Edin. A single thought beyond ‘yes, a party, let’s go’, would’ve led him to see that having Darryn involved in any way was a mistake. But he hadn’t put any thought into it, he’d heard party, no titles, and thought only of drinking and not being alone. He had Edin’s same propensity towards selfishness, he only displayed it differently. He tried to think about something else. 

The list he’d burnt had been basically a magical equivalent of medical supplies, nothing dangerous, not in his eyes. And yet, it was. Because the right words, the right intent, and few easily obtained materials, meant even those without the means for a physician could find relief from a variety of ailments and wounds. That was the very least magic could do, but at its strongest, it made the old proverb of knowledge being power, more true than most could imagine. 

There was a clear reason why magic was so severely outlawed; it could put power into the hands of those the nobility were desperate to keep under their heel. He could see that, he just couldn’t see a way to use that without getting someone hurt. More often than not, the people who got hurt in Caesonia were the ones who didn’t deserve it. The world was unjust and unfair and there was no solution he could see, and he didn’t know how to live in the world the way it was, and the thought of trying to fight against it while not seeing a way to win, was terrifying. 

So he plopped into an uncomfortable chair, knowing that collapsing onto his bed would probably mean instant sleep, and only stared into the bottle of whiskey wondering where so much of it had gone. He planned to just sit here, let time pass, feel warm and empty until the clock neared eleven and he would have to deal with the world, and all it was, again.[/color]