Chapter Twenty

Entry: 

You, you, you, you. Why do you stay by my side? How did we become like this? I am grateful, you are my sanity. My reason for lingering a little longer in this world. I'm sorry I'm not everything you want me to be, and I'm sorry you cry because of me.

Phoenix

--

"Ready to work hard?" Phoenix asked.

Greyson raised his arms and stretched, preparing for their morning training session. Phoenix rolled her pants up and tied her hair back into a braid. The world moved up and down in time of her jumps, and her legs ached as she stretched out her entire body. Inhale; it was a new day. Exhale; she got to spend it with Greyson. 

"Alright, first, show me your basics," Phoenix said. 

  Greyson bent his knees and held up his arms to protect his face. It was decent, not great, but not horrible. Average. 

"Throw a punch."

His whole body flew forward, his weight shifting entirely to his front so much so that his feet stumbled to catch up. Phoenix pointed his feet into a better position.

"Again."

Once more, Greyson threw his weight forward, but this time, his feet were better. Now, just to fix his arms. Better. Nowhere near perfect, but better. Next, put them together. Slower, focus on form. Okay, a little faster. 

"I need a break," Greyson huffed.

"Just do it a few more times, then we'll stop. Growth happens when we're tired," Phoenix said. 

He gave her an annoyed look, like he didn't enjoy being bossed around by her, and she responded with a smile. It was enough for him to give in and do two more rounds of practice.

"Alright, we can take a break," Phoenix caved after Greyson's legs shook more than his irregular breath. 

Greyson's body crumbled to the ground, and he sucked in greedy gulps of water. Phoenix sat herself right by him on a bench, her eyes hyper-focused on the way he tilted his head back to drink. On the line of his jaw. 

Once his breath was even, he finally met her eyes. "Are you alright, you're spacing out."

"Yes, sorry. I just have a lot on my mind," Phoenix confessed.

"You can tell me if something is bugging you."

Where should she start? Roman, the catacombs? Phoenix's silence must have stretched longer than she realized because Greyson hopped back onto his feet, stepping in front of her and towering above. She parted her legs, and he stepped closer so he was right up against the edge of the bench, surrounding her vision. 

"Is it the Prince?" Greyson asked seriously. "Has he come for you too?" 

Phoenix smiled a little. "Why? Would it bother you if he did?" 

Greyson took a step back and she stood to meet him, face to face. He leaned forward, close, close enough for her to see the wrinkles framing the edge of his nose. Here Greyson was, checking up on her, being protective, and if she daresay, caring for her. He cared for her. 

"Bird, I'm serious. Has the Prince been harassing you?"

An urge to poke his soft, warm-toned face overwhelmed her.

"No," she admitted.

A sigh of relief whooshed out of Greyson, but he didn't back away. No. Instead, Greyson reached up a hand and played with the tail of her braid, just like before when they left for the Highlands. His lips parted to say something else, maybe to ask another question, maybe to make another comment, Phoenix didn't know. All she knew was the urge to touch his face won, and soon, her hand was on his chin, his skin as smooth and warm as she imagined it to be. Those hazel eyes of his widened in surprise. 

"Bird," he whispered.

"Greyson," she smiled.

After Phoenix said his name, he gingerly reached his left hand up to her face and mirrored her. His thumb drew circles around her cheeks and warmth bloomed throughout her, starting at his fingertips and spreading to her toes.

"Is this okay?" Greyson asked.

Phoenix laughed a little to herself. He really was so sweet.

A desire to tease him overcame her and she responded, "No."

Greyson let out a small gasp and immediately pulled his hand back. Bending his head to the floor, he raised his hands up in innocence. 

"Bird, I'm so sorry, I didn't mea-" 

Phoenix picked up his chin with her hand and closed the inches of distance between them to kiss him. Their lips collided delicately and she melted into the touch, taking her time to pull back and kiss him again. 

"This is much better," Phoenix whispered between kisses. 

He wrapped one of his hands behind her neck and put the other on her lower back. Their lips met again in slow, lingering kisses. Warm, safe, he liked her back, they could be together. It wasn't enough- Phoenix moved her free hand under Greyson's shirt.

"Bird?" he asked.

"Yes?" Phoenix murmured in a haze, kissing him again.

"Don't you think this is a little fast?" He broke their entangled bodies apart and took a step back.

Phoenix was surprised by his stern face. 

"Did you not like it?"

His eyes dropped to the ground. "I just don't feel comfortable doing this in here."

Phoenix smiled. "That's okay. We won't do anything you don't want to. Just be clear about what you're comfortable with."

"Thanks, Bird," he replied. 

Her heart didn't slow down its rampage. A tension rested in between their spoken words, between each breath.

"Let's get back to training," she suggested.

  He nodded and they made their way back to the center of the room, his hand lingering on her back as long as possible, only dropping once he needed to reset his stance. Except, he didn't reset, merely stood there, looking at her.

"Can I help you with something?" Phoenix joked.

"We care for each other, right?" he asked. 

"Of course," she replied without hesitation.

He nodded, looked into the mirror at himself, nodded again, and faced her. Then, he got into position and threw a punch with all his energy.

"Agh!" Greyson yelled.

  Phoenix jumped on her own skin, surprised by the shout. She watched as Greyson straightened his posture, grabbed a towel, and sat back down on the bench, exhausted.

"Are you okay?" Phoenix asked.

"I'm fine, Bird."

What was with the abrupt mood change? 

"I've been thinking," Phoenix said, eager to go back to normal, "that maybe the Burning Stone came from the Burning. I was reading journals and none of them mention it, which either means I'm wrong or it was such a rare material that no one knew about it."

"There isn't a mention of any stone?" Greyson asked. "Maybe it wasn't called Burning Stone at the time."

"Stilts," Phoenix whispered. "He picked up a piece comet by Sadie's feet. Maybe the assassination attempts are to steal a relic of the past? No, that doesn't make sense, Lila and Corton don't want money from the Queen, they want revenge. Maybe it's to wield the Burning Stone's powe-"

"Why don't you think it over and we can regroup tonight."

Phoenix ticked her head to the side. Why was Greyson always so quick to shut her ideas down? 

"Yeah, maybe," she said. 

Greyson must have sensed her deflated mood because he stood, making sure to look her in the face. 

"I didn't upset you, did I?" he asked.

Phoenix smiled. "No, not at all."

"Then can I hug you goodbye?"

  With a roll of her eyes, Phoenix opened her arms and Greyson slid into them. He bent his head down and rested on her shoulder, heavy; she carried his weight. 

As he pulled away, he lingered by her ear, and whispered, "I'm sorry."

She laughed. "It's okay, really, I promise I'm not mad at you for anything. See you at dinner?"

"Of course," Greyson promised. "I can't wait to see you again."

With that, she left, so excited she couldn't stop herself from glancing over her shoulder at him one last time. His back was too her, but she saw his expression through the mirror- lines tugging his lips down in a frown as he studied his left hand. 

Phoenix chuckled, seemed she wasn't the only one sad the session came to an end.

#

Phoenix made her way to the meeting room, needing to distract her mind from Greyson. He wasn't acting weird, she was. Beige walls morphed into off-white ones, portraits of people she didn't recognize followed her down the corridors, their eyes judging her denial. 

She waved a quick hello to Hughes and strolled into the records. There was one file she hadn't checked, anything on Roman. Phoenix walked past shelves filled with boxes filled with papers filled with labels, until she reached one that appeared promising- records on the relatives of the royal family. 

Roman said he was basically a father figure to the royals. 

Opening the crusty lid, she shuffled through the files with various people related to the royal family, most of whom were on the council. She pulled one out at random. It was labeled "Michael Andrews." Inside was a form of identification including his date of birth, relation to the royal family (they were cousins), eye color, occupation, origin, and family life (he had two kids). Phoenix flipped through a couple more names and they all had the same information about them. There, a file so old the label had been torn, was a single photo of Roman. 

She picked the file up and was about to open it when Hughes called out, "Ms. Phoenix, the King is coming, you need to get out!" 

Phoenix looked down at the file in her hands and tucked it behind her back. Under no circumstances did she want to see the King, nor did she want him to know what she was learning from the investigation. With a hustle to her step, she awkwardly made her way past Hughes.

"Pleasure seeing you," Phoenix nodded, purposely walking sideways so he wouldn't see the oddly shaped file poking out from behind her. 

Hughes offered a warm smile. Just as she stepped inside the meeting room, her body collided with a heavy chest. Shit. 

"What are you doing in here?" King Malik's voice accused. 

No, not the King. Phoenix felt her temper rise just at the sight of him. She had to keep a cool head. 

"Just the job you gave me," Phoenix couldn't hide her biting tone.

Wrong thing to say, if his disgusted snicker meant anything. It only pissed Phoenix off more. 

"Have you actually done anything useful while living here?" the King spat. "I heard you wasted a day frolicking in the Highlands with your family."

"Yes, it's called raising kids. You should try it sometime."

The King's heavy hand raised and flew down to Phoenix's face. Phoenix caught his wrist to avoid the slap- she realized the mistake too late. The King used his free hand to shove her to the ground, hard. 

Phoenix went down onto the ground with an umph! 

A thought clouded Phoenix's head: she had to take this so that nothing happened to her family. The King wasn't like his son, he wouldn't just let her walk away.

"If you don't find anything in three weeks," the King spat, "you are leaving here, and being kicked out of the guard. Your days are numbered."

The King physically stepped over Phoenix and into the file room, leaving her lying on the ground. Phoenix waited until his footsteps were nothing but echoes. The she stormed out of the office room and into the halls, pulling out the file. 

Where was she safe to read it? The library. Her heels tapped furiously as she marched across the tiled floor. That crooked King and even worse arrogance. 

And there- his stupid, annoying, pestering son.

A deep frown resided on Phoenix's face when she spotted the Prince in his usual chair, and she tucked the file behind her back again. His hair was combed back, slacks rolled up. Why did she always run into him here? 

Phoenix opened the file and was stunned at the lack of information. All Roman's file said was that Roman used to be a council member, acted like a father or caregiver to the royal children, and had black eyes. There wasn't a single thing about when he was born or where. Nor was there anything about legitimate kids of his own. Every other file had included that information, why was Roman different? 

There had to be more to the story.

Suddenly, Phoenix felt the hot breath of air tickling the back of her neck. She jumped from her seat and turned to see the Prince reading over her shoulder.

"What the fuck?" she demanded.

"You actually cursed at me," he noted while placing a hand under his chin. 

A heavy sigh left her body, why couldn't he just leave her alone? What an absolute prick. Phoenix shut the file and shoved it between the cushions of the chair.

"Yeah, because you deserved it," she said.

"So cruel, Wrinkles. I just wanted to see if I could sneak up on you. You really ought to be more careful, when you focus on something, everything around you disappears for a while. And what were you reading?"

"I can take care of myself," Phoenix insisted, unsure if he had insulted or complimented her. "And it was just something I picked up from the catacombs."

"Interesting, I've never seen a file down there before," he said, smiling like he knew she was lying. 

In two long strides the Prince stepped around the chair and faced her. Phoenix couldn't help but appreciate his grace as he moved, his shoulders high and feet never dragging on the floor. Was he trained for nothing more than to sneeze properly and annoy people? She stood from her chair so that they could talk on equal standing, keeping a healthy distance between them. 

"What do you want?" Phoenix asked, exasperated. "I thought you said you'd leave me alone."

"I just came back from talking with Old Man Roman, and I was asked to give you a message," a smirk perked up and his eyes narrowed. "Besides, I was in the library first."

His smile didn't falter; his confidence didn't waver. Phoenix had only seen Osprey that one day, but she thought he looked a lot like his sister, the same mischievous grin. 

"What was the message, then?" she asked. 

"You're interesting, is all he said. I'm surprised to see you two got along so well."

Thinking about Roman, an easy smile crept up Phoenix's lips as well. The man was undeniably odd, however there was a sweet nature in his character she wanted to protect.

"Yeah, Roman's a great guy," Phoenix gave in, supposing it wouldn't kill her to talk honestly with the Prince. 

"So, are you going to thank me for playing messenger?" he crossed his arms and leaned onto one foot. His chin was high and confidence higher. 

"Thanks, I guess?" 

"That's it? How about you thank me over dinner."

"No," Phoenix said flatly. 

The Prince shooed her to the side and plopped down in her chair, the file dropping into the crook of the cushion and out of sight. He was sitting in her favorite chair. 

He stole her spot.

"Why not?" the Prince asked, his head leaning into his hand. 

"People might get ideas." And Phoenix didn't like being with him. 

"People? Like that guard friend of yours?"

A quick inhale of breath, a tightening of her fists; Phoenix's temper was rising. Who was he to refer to Greyson in such a manner? How could the Prince just disturb her reading and sit in her favorite chair and act so cool? He had a special talent for vexing her. No, the Prince was great at infuriating her. No, no, she had it right the first time- vexing her. 

"Don't tell me you actually like him," the Prince lazily continued, stroking the armrest as though it were a cat.

A warm blush crept up her neck. Then, the Prince did something she didn't expect. He bolted up from the chair and studied her, his fake smile melting into a frown as he looked her up and down.

"Really? But he's not your type," he drawled out in a low, inquisitive voice. 

"What are you-"

"Phoenix, I've seen him train," the Prince rapid-fired, "Greyson needs someone to encourage him, someone who will help carry him and help him with his self-esteem. You take care of your three siblings; dating him would be taking in another child to take care of." He pinched the furrow in his brows. "I was right, you do put your family before your own well-being. You need to stop trying to take care of everyone, you need someone who will take care of you."

"Just stop talking," Phoenix whispered. What did he know? 

He pushed on anyway, "Why do you act so differently around me than with the others? Are you always angry, and your only outlet is me? That's not healthy. You're young, you need people you can lean on as well. You can't keep on wearing a mother's mask and having infinite patience, infinite empathy. It's okay to show them that you're mad-"

"Shut up! You don't know me. Stop trying to see right through me! You're trying to lecture me about having a front when all you do is wear that fake smile and sleep around? You have no right to judge me."

"Judge you? Wrinkles, I'm simply concerned. This isn't healthy. You can't support another person like Greyson, you'll lose yourself-"

"Why do you even care? To you, all I am is a wrinkled moat girl."

They stood there, facing each other, chests rising and falling feverishly. The silence stretched and for the entire time, she couldn't look away from the Prince. He just kept his eyes drilling into her, and she refused to look away first, to give him any sense of victory. 

"You're right," the Prince confessed. 

Her face relaxed a hair in confusion.

"I always have a fake smile on," he continued. "It unfair for me to lecture you about that. So, I'll take off my mask when I'm around you, and in return, I ask that you open up to your family and tell them that you need some more support from them, communication is key."

How could she ask more of her family? They already did so much for her, it wouldn't be fair for her to ask anymore. 

"No. I don't need more support. I've been doing this for a while now— I can support them, care for them, do everything for them," Phoenix concluded, nodding to herself. 

"You don't get it. You are burning out right now, not paying attention to what you feel inside. When you break, know that I am here. When you break, come find me and I will care for you." 

The Prince's eyes became cold as he glared at her. His true personality, though she couldn't make out what it was yet. Then, he tilted his head up and laughed, his hands resting on his stomach. "So," he said to himself, "the Old Man was right, then." 

Phoenix was about to curse at him in confusion, but before she could, he started toward the door. 

As he walked to the exit, he mumbled, "So it really is like that, then. And it really is her." 

Phoenix stared at him, what was he rambling about? At the door, the Prince turned his head and looked at her, his eyes sweeping from her feet and up to meet her eyes. A genuinely warm smile spread on his face and he winked and turned back to the doors. Pushing them open, he strolled out of the library, but not out of mind. 

Exhausted, Phoenix sank into her sea-glass green chair in contemplation. The Prince didn't know what he was talking about. Greyson did support her. He bought her that journal and brought a smile to her face. Told her he cared for her and that he was excited to see her again. 

She was happy. 

With that settled, Phoenix opened the file back up and stared at it intensely. Why was Roman, closest to the royals, longest member of the court, the only person with missing information?