Starlight Manor

She plans on telling Alois all about it on the way back, until she catches a glimpse of that familiar long, white ponytail in the chambers.

A jolt of shock ripples through her when she spots him standing before an angry looking Kwithra in the center of the room, his head bowed as if in apology.

“Cami’s getting scolded?” Alois questions when Lise rushes back to him to relay the news. He looks dumbfounded. “No. Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” Lisa whispers back. “I saw his hair.”

“No,” Alois says again, almost defiantly. “He wouldn’t do anything against the rules.” He shakes his head, disoriented by the mere thought. “He’s basically Mother’s dog.”

“I know what I saw, Alois,” Lise insists.

Alois’s eyes narrow.

“Take me there,” he demands.

So she does. They make their way down the hallway all the way until they’re outside the door of the chambers. They peer through the crack of the large wooden door, Lise crouched down and Alois on his tiptoes above her—because as much as Alois may act like he isn’t nosy like Lise, he’s worse than she is.

Cami does, in fact, stand in the center of the room. Strangely, he now holds a pair of scissors in his hand. He’s looking down at them with a disdainful, almost mournful expression.

“What should I do with you?” Alois’ mother sighs from her chair. Her chin is propped up on a hand as she observes her oldest son.

Lise hears a small exhale come from the older Starlight’s nose, barely audible. She hears Alois let out a quiet gasp above her, like he’s done something grave.

“Mother,” he says to her. “I do not see what I’ve done wrong.”

“You have abandoned a mission.”

“Mother, I assure you, I have not.”

“You abandoned your post, Cami. To chatter with your little friend about some nonsence.”

“Only momentarily,” Cami says, something pinched in his face. “Alois used to do so all the time.”

“But you are not Alois,” Kwithra’s voice rings out in the room, high and cold. “Are you?”

Cami visibly shrinks back. “No, Mother, of course not,” he says. “But—”

“If you were Alois,” Kwithra speaks over him, “you would act the part. You would be weak. You would waste your time on useless things, and you would fade into the backdrop of the world outside of us. You would be ordinary, Cami.” Her face becomes almost deathly calm. “Is the heir to the Starlight family ordinary?”

When Cami answers again, he sounds as if he isn’t quite sure. “No, Mother.”

“If you were Alois,” Kwithra continues, her voice continuing to rise, “you might even run away from us. From your duty as a Starlight. Far away this grandiose place, just as he does. You would spend your days in filthy villages, scouring the forest, preferring the company of rocks and streams and beasts over that of your own family.” Her hands clench the arms of her chair. “You would talk among the moral and the weak like you are one of them, and you would hunt and sleep in the trees like a disgusting animal. And you would only scurry home whenever you needed something, like a selfish little brat.” She leans forward, dark eyes cold. “I can treat you like Alois, Cami. I can do that with ease. You don’t want responsibility? Fine. Go, then. Go into the woods and live out there for all I care. Have your freedom. Have your fun. And when you come running back, I will be gracious enough to welcome you into my home, but I will not love you. I will never love you. And I will not respect who you are. I will never take pride in you being my son, and I will not be afraid to hurt you. I will beat you, as I have Alois, every time you disappoint me with your complete and utter uselessness.” Her face is so cold, so cruel. “I’ve beaten him until he screams, Cami. Is that what you want? Is that freedom?”

“No, Mother,” Cami says, and his voice comes out in a whisper.

“You are the heir to this business, Cami. You are strong and capable and skilled, and I hate to see you waste that on that little friend of yours.” She leans back in her seat, crossing her legs. “You will kill him tonight, before midnight. And you will bring his body to me.” Her long nails tap the armrest of her chair. “Tell me you understand.”

“I understand.” Cami looks resigned rather than afraid, exhausted rather than sad. Hesitantly, he raises his hand, still white-knuckled around the scissors. “Must I… still cut my hair, Mother?”

Kwithra regards him with a long, hard look before she sighs, gesturing for him to lower the scissors.

“That won’t be necessary,” she says. “You would look foolish with short hair, anyway.”

Cami bows and leaves the room.

—

“She wants Cami to kill Mayuri?” Lise whispers to Alois once they’re back in the safety of their room. “Is that really what she said?”

“I guess so.” Alois’s face is inscrutable.

“He can’t!” Lise demands. “Mayuri likes him. He’s his only friend. He can’t kill him.”

“He’ll do whatever he decides to do.”

Lise grips his shoulder. “Alois, you have to talk to him.”

“I don’t care what happens to Mayuri, Lise,” Alois snaps. “I saw that man snap more necks than you could even imagine by the time I was six. It’s different when you’re raised by this family and you’re trained to do it, but he wasn’t. He’s a sadist. And I can never tell what he’s thinking. He’s secretive and conniving and completely untrustworthy. He’s a freak, Lise. An absolute psycho. That’s why his only friend is…” He trails off.

Lise stares at him intently.

Alois covers his face with his hands.

“Fine,” he says.

They find Cami in his room, staring at his hands. He looks more forlorn than Lise has ever seen him. Perhaps he really does plan on doing it.

Lise doesn’t step in; it’s not her place to. She just watches as Alois walks towards his bed and gingerly takes a seat on it.

“You give yourself and everything you are to this family,” he says. Cami doesn’t look up. “You always have. I wanted to be like you, once. When I was younger. When I wanted Mother to love me. But she never did love me. And she doesn’t love you.” Cami grows tense, his shoulders stiff. “You know that, don’t you, Cami? She doesn’t love you. She isn’t capable of it.”

“What would you know about Mother?” Cami’s voice is deathly quiet. “What would you know about any of us, Alois? You left.”

“Mayuri didn’t leave,” Alois says.

Cami turns his dark eyes on Alois.

“You hate Mayuri,” he says tersely. “You always have.”

“And you love him,” Alois says. “You’ve loved him your entire life.”

Cami opens his mouth before he shakes his head, anger flashing across his features. “Leave, Alois.”

“I don’t know what kind of love it is,” Alois says louder, “and I don’t care to know. All I know is that he’s all you have. He and Weyah are all you truly have, Cami. Not me, and not Mother.” He stands up. “Keep that in mind before you do whatever you decide to do.”

“You think you know everything,” Cami says, frustration coating his words. “You think our world is so simple. Life is not like that, Alois. You may do what you want, but you cannot just do whatever you want. Nor can I.”

“We’re human beings.” Alois says it like a plea, like he’s begging Cami to understand. “It’s okay to do what you want. It’s okay to not be perfect. You, who’s never asked anything from Mother your entire life—you still haven’t realized that. You’ve never done a single thing you wanted. You’ve never done anything for yourself. You’ve wasted away so much of yourself by turning off your mind and your heart, and that’s fine. I couldn’t stop it, and I couldn’t stop myself from hating you for it. But it’s not too late to save the only thing you have left worth saving. It’s okay to feel. It’s normal. So fuck what you think you should do. What do you want, Cami?”

It takes a while before Cami speaks again, and when he does, his voice so low Lise strains to hear him.

“I… do not want to kill Mayuri,” he admits. “I want him to live.”

Alois’ voice is just as quiet, but firm. “Then don’t kill him.”

Cami turns his large black eyes on his brother’s face, observant, before he looks away.

“I am not you, Alois,” he says simply.

“What does that mean?”

The older man turns his gaze up to the sky.

“I am an assassin,” he says. “I am a cog in the machine of this family. That is more important to me than prioritizing anything I may feel. I do not wish to be anything different.”

“Then you’re a slave, Cami,” Alois says harshly. He stands up, his disgusted gaze not leaving his brother. “And I feel sorry for you.”

Cami doesn’t say another word as Alois walks away and out the door.

—