PINKY? (fan honour in author note).

SONG RECOMMENDATIONS: PROMISE (REPRISE) by akira yamaoka. 

Theodore could feel his oxygen supply being cut off. Steely hands wrapped around his neck, brooding eyes stared intently at him in malice. The assassin with a scar was strangling him.

Theodore gasped awake breathlessly, only to feel restraint on him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see anything. Darkness clouded his vision. His breath shortened as he began to panic. In the next second, a blinding ray of light filled his vision. He squinted at the harsh brightness, bringing his small hands up to block the rays.

Just as his eyes adjusted to the light, a tiny sound somewhere in the room grabbed his attention.

He snapped his gaze to the right, bunching the sheets around him. He was still desensitized from the nightmare.

He peered carefully at the corner to see narrow, vivid green eyes staring back at him.

He blinked, and the eyes blinked back. Theodore's brows scrunched, then widened the next moment when he finally understood what he was staring at.

A cat. Not just any cat, but a black cat.

His perfectly carved brows narrowed in confusion as he stared at the black fur that blended in with the darkness under the vanity table.

What was a black cat doing here? Black cats were never allowed in their home, courtesy of the maids. They always chased any black cat away with a broomstick, muttering under their breaths about curses and bad luck with distasteful expressions.

But… this black cat was here now, in their—no, this! His gaze snapped from left to right, taking in his surroundings. The room was more spacious, the inner curtains drawn, leaving the room bathed in a warm glow. He was in a much-too-big canopy bed.

The memories came slamming into his disoriented brain. His mama had been stabbed.

He jumped up on the bed and ran to the door, opening it and running out in nothing but his nightwear.

"Young master?!" a maid with fresh bedding in hand called as Theodore ran past her.

As Theodore's sock-clad feet raced down the vast hallways, servants around him stopped and stared at the unusual sight of the young boy darting around.

The maid dropped the bedding into another servant's hands and began running after him.

Theodore ignored the servants going about their daily tasks, openly gaping at him.

But when he realized he didn't know where he was going, he ran to the nearest servant.

"Have you seen my mama?!" he asked frantically.

The patrolling guard's brow furrowed in confusion at the boy's statement. His chubby cheeks were flushed, and his springy dark hair was in disarray from the night's rest.

Seeing the guard's confusion, Theodore rushed to explain. "Long dark hair. Tall. Green eyes? The most beautiful woman in the world."

The guard grew amused but remembered the only woman who had been in the mansion recently and pointed down the hall. "Third room to the second left."

"Young master!" the maid was gaining on him.

"Much appreciated!" he thanked, running in the direction the guard had pointed.

He noted which room it was by the number of guards and maids stationed at the entrance.

Frederick, in all his white-silver glory, had just stepped out of the room with a maid in tow when he saw Theodore racing toward them.

In another circumstance, he would have allowed the boy to run in through the small gap at the door. But the warning Silas had given made him lower a knee and catch the child as he clashed with him.

The boy's green eyes were frantic as he struggled against Frederick's grasp.

"Unhand me! I want to see my mama!"

The servants around them had their hands over their mouths to stifle gasps at the scene. The guards assessed the boy with their peripheral vision.

"I implore you to compose yourself, young one," Frederick tried, in an attempt to calm him.

As shocking as the sight of the estate's rather cold adviser trying to calm a child was, the master, who had been indoors all evening until now, stepped out of the room.

The maid finally caught up, trying to catch her breath.

Silas's tired gaze quickly took in the chaotic scene before him as he went to the thrashing Theodore.

"Theo…?" he said carefully.

Theodore's gaze snapped up, suddenly noting his presence. Frederick released Theodore, only for him to fall into Silas's hands, which worked to steady him.

Tears sprang up in Theodore's eyes as he stared at the viscount.

"Mama?" he sobbed, clenching Silas's shirt.

Silas's eyes were marred with dark circles, and his face looked worn. But he was now changed into a new set of clothing. Good thing Frederick had advised him to clean up and change.

His fingers gently wiped Theodore's tears. "Don't fret, Theo. I gave you my word your mama will be okay."

He was glad Theodore was okay after sleeping through two days. He had called the physicians again, alarmed, but they had assured Silas it was the trauma and exhaustion of the accident. He was glad Theodore was awake now.

"Then why don't you let me see her? Is she really okay?" Theodore sniffed loudly, drawing him out of his train of thought.

"Theo, your mama won't be happy to see you in such a state if she was awake. She will recover and see you soon." The latter statement was also a reminder to himself.

There was no need to lie to the child. He was smart.

Silas held Theodore until his sobs subsided.

"I'll be able to play with mama soon?" his tiny voice, broken from crying, asked with teary eyes.

"You will." Silas forced a smile onto his worn face.

"Swear it…" Theodore held out his pinky finger.

With a glance to Frederick, who also wore the same confused expression, Silas faced Theodore again.

Theodore must have seen the slightly confused expression on his face, for he explained.

"It's a way I make promises with mama."

"You go like this," he raised Silas's hand and brought down his fingers, leaving the pinky, "…and you curve it over mine."

With Theodore's instructions, the two locked pinky fingers, and with teary eyes from Theodore, they cracked a smile worn down by the misfortune they had gone through together.

As Silas silently watched Theodore walk away, the door opened, and a distraught physician poked his head out. Noting the panic in his eyes, Silas cursed under his breath as he rushed into the room.

Theodore, who had turned a corner, saw it, and with a downcast expression, he walked back to his room.

Later in the day, Theodore was seated in the vast garden under one of the gazebos. Freshly showered, he had refused all food.

The birds in the air and the vast sea of colorful flowers did nothing to intrigue or cheer him up.

His papa hadn't told him the whole truth—understandably—but he couldn't help but worry. He also couldn't forget the worn look on Silas's face. Theodore had never seen Lord Silas anything less than pristine and in order. But everything, from his gaze to his appearance, lacked the charm he always carried. His mama's condition must have been worse than he thought.

A twig snapping behind him alerted him to another presence. He turned his curious gaze to see a young woman.

She had dark hair in a low bun and creamy white skin. She was clad in a maid's uniform, and as he looked up at her, the first thing he noticed was the kind smile on her lips, her eyes creasing at the sides.

"Do you also enjoy the view?" she said, walking up to him.

"May I take a seat?"

Theodore nodded, not meeting her gaze.

With a sigh, she plopped down next to him.

A moment passed with only silence between them.

"You know, I like the yellow flowers better," she began, staring ahead at the field of flowers. She had a slightly different accent than the ones he was used to.

"If you're trying to cheer me up, know now, it won't work," Theodore mumbled under his breath, his chin resting on his folded arms on the round table. He puffed his cheeks out, sulking.

The maid finally turned to him. "Well, I guess I've been found out now, haven't I?" she giggled softly at her own joke. But Theodore didn't join.

"Can I have the pleasure of knowing your name, child? I can't call you 'child' forever."

Theodore peered up at the kind servant. There seemed to be a halo of grace and kindness about her. Her features were different from theirs, with black irises and slightly narrower eyes. A foreigner, perhaps.

"Theodore," he relented.

"Theodore…" she repeated, trying it with her accent. Her pink, heart-shaped mouth widened in a smile, pleased at her victory.

She hummed. "Lovely name. I'm Fiona."

Theodore nodded slightly, unsure of what to make of her, though her presence wasn't unpleasant.

"Theodore, if I may," Fiona said gently. "I won't pretend I understand exactly how you must feel. Though I might understand a tiny fraction. I was separated from my parents when I was young. They were killed, said to have betrayed the emperor of our kingdom."

Her story caught Theodore's attention, and he didn't move away when she shifted closer to him.

"Of course, I don't believe that," she continued. "But I guess people with power can throw the less privileged under the bus." She gave a faint smile. "I must be speaking out of turn, but I would like to say something."

The warm breeze whistled around them, and the sweet scent of flowers filled their lungs.

"The master of the estate—"

"He's my papa," Theodore corrected.

The maid's brows raised in surprise, but she quickly recovered.

"… From what I could see, your papa cares for your mama and is doing all in his power to save her. If you believe in him and your mama, in time, everything will be how it's supposed to be."

"Can I request that of you?" she hummed softly.

"What?" Theodore's brows scrunched.

"Your hope."

Theodore stayed silent for a moment and then slowly nodded his head.

"Pinky?" Fiona tilted her head at him, reminding him of the cat from earlier, peering curiously at him.

"Pinky," Theodore confirmed, wrapping his pinky around her lean one.

When Fiona's contagious smile spread wide again, he couldn't help but mirror it.

They were interrupted when a loud growl came from Theodore's stomach.

Theodore's face reddened in embarrassment as Fiona chuckled.

"Come along, Theodore. Let's go get you something to eat."