The Forgotten Zodiac

"I love your assumption that I had any more choice in the matter." Mentally, Alexander backed down from that stance immediately. It was clearly unfair to Morgan, Alexander's situation and Isabella's were in no way comprable. Whatever petty annoyance he felt there was blown away by Morgan's second revelation, one not entirely unsuspected but still quite shocking. "You're her cousin..."

"Which is why," Morgan sat up again, wrapping his arm around Alexander's shoulders. "If you do anything to hurt her, anything at all...well...I guess I can't kill you..." He tutted, running his fingers through his hair and letting go of Alexander. "Yep. Missing Albrecht number two. To be perfectly honest with you, I signed up for a job with you to try and find your father. That was a bit of a bust, you know hardly anything more than I do...but, the job brings in money which I can use to help Isabella, so it's far from a lost cause."

"Right." Alexander stiffed slightly when Morgan flopped against him, but not out of guilt or fear. He simply wasn't used to being touched, especially without warning. "Morgan, money doesn't need to be one of Isabella's problems," he offered awkwardly. "It'd be easy enough to fund whatever she needs, though I understand that it might be better for her to be more anonymous than that. Why were you looking for my father?"

"No, money is hardly an issue. I still have a good amount saved up over the past couple of months. This job pays well." Morgan shrugged. "Your father? Why else would I be looking for him? He destroyed my family at the core. My mother and my father had their entrails ripped out and spread out on the floor. My sister had most of her skin burned off, and my older brother's arms and legs were ripped off. I spent three years of my life feeding them and doing whatever I could to keep them alive, but...they were hardly alive by that point. So I killed them with my left hand. I told you all this already...I had to kill them. I couldn't let them suffer anymore...and your father made them suffer in the first place. So yes, I'm trying to find him...I need to know why..."

"What?!" Here, the prince slipped off the bed again and stared at Morgan in a mixture of shock, anger, and disbelief. "Morgan, that hardly makes any sense. He had no need to harm your family. The order of succession, combined with my engagement to Isabella, provided all the assurance of a continuing line he needed." Yet, as loyal as Alexander was to his father's memory, he had to acknowledge that the Finnigan/Albrecht union hadn't been planned until his fifth birthday, which, by Morgan's timeline, was two years after the tragedy. "Besides, Morgan, my father didn't have the capability to do such things himself, or he would hardly be missing, and he didn't have the connections to have it done either. You're on the wrong trail."

Morgan was quiet for a long while. Then he sighed heavily. "Maybe I am. But...it's the closest thing I have to any sort of lead. They may be just whispered rumors and gossip...but I...I can't stand the thought of not having anything to go off of. Honestly, Alexander...I made a pact with a demon. I sold my soul away for one thing. Revenge. Not knowing who to exact that revenge on...it's not an easy thing to think about. So...even if your father really is innocent, I'm going to find him. For your sake as much as mine. If he didn't do it, great. If he somehow did...well...we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, I suppose."

He looked up at Alexander, and the two locked eyes for once since the boy had entered the room. It was clear that Morgan had escaped the effects of the drug, and he was entirely lucid again. "I'm going to find him. And I'm going to do whatever it takes to get the answers I need, Alexander. What are you going to do?"

Alexander maintained the eye contact with Morgan, gratefully that the man was finally freeing himself from the drug. "Well, until such a point as my father is found, our interests remain the same. You want me alive, you want Isabella alive, and you want to find my father. If- When my father is found, I suppose the situation will be different." Alexander simply filed Morgan's belief about Finnigan, Sr., under a grief hallucination. Therre was no logical support for it, Morgan was a highly logical individual, so he would reevaluate at some point and realize his mistake. 

"I suppose so. We'll cross what bridges we have to when we arrive at them." Morgan shrugged. "As for Isabella...you don't have my blessing to marry her. Not until she's good and ready. I know young marriages are encouraged these days, but honestly, she wouldn't be able to cope with it. So until her mind is in working order again, she is to remain unwed...and unaware of the bethrothal. If I only give one order in my life, it will be that."

((How would it be if somone found Isabella now? Or in the near future, by following Morgan/Alexander/whoever and are looking for the Albrecht reward?))

"The wedding date is set in three years, Morgan. I have no intention of moving it forward. We'll see if I have to move it back. Besides, you assume anyone cares about the wedding beyond our two signatures on a piece of paper and the promise that, someday, we will procreate. Do you really think I have the time or the interest in taking advantage of your cousin and trying to keep you happy? While I would prefer it if her safety were public knowledge, I admit that that's mostly so I can stop being accused of murder by senile old ladies. I'll leave the decisions about her care to you." Alexander shook his head quickly and turned toward the door. "I'll let you continue resting, then. Unless there are any more dramatic revelations?"

((THAT would be interesting. xD))

"Thank you, then. Technically, as I'm her only family left, I'm her legal guardian...so I appreciate you leaving her to me for the time being. That being said, you're free to visit her whenever...and if you think you have a method of returning her mind to a functional state, I would be far from objecting." He smiled a bit. "No further revelations. None that are shocking, anyway. I could tell you about my new outfit for formal parties and the like, but I should let you go do your evening paperwork and research."

((So can we do it? Morgan could be furious, but they would both have to pretend they didn't know anything.))

"Right." Alexander flinched dramatically at the thought of Morgan's formal clothing and, to save himself the mental image, exited the room, calling over his shoulder, "I'll see you around dinner!"

((Okay. But if threats towards Isabella are thrown in, all bets are off. Morgan will get a little more than just mad.))

"Yep!" Morgan called back before laying back in bed. One thing he hadn't been able to enjoy since coming here was ease of mind. Aside from his usual paranoia that someone was going to slip poison into his weekly glass of wine, the knowledge that Alexander was searching desperately for his cousin had always bothered him. The knowledge that Isabella would all too soon become a Finnigan had bugged him every time he thought about it. Now, he didn't feel quite so bad about it. Alexander was an understanding nobleman, thankfully. So for now, he was able to nap in a somewhat peaceful way, for once.

By the end of the week, Morgan was back in action. For real, this time. Monet taught him some exersizes to keep his arm from going stiff, as he was supposed to take it easy for the next few weeks. But that didn't stop Morgan from getting right back into the swing of things. And then some. One warm afternoon found Morgan sparring in the courtyard with the castle guards. He was clearly superior, even with one arm in a sling.

Vi was watching nearby, while doing the paperwork required to sign onto the job for Alexander's 'housekeeper'. She coined the term as a bit of a joke; she wouldn't be cleaning anything up but discarded letters and messy schedules, when it came down to it, but she still seemed to think it was enough to call herself a 'housekeeper'. That, and she was essentially keeping things organized for House Finnigan. A funny little play on words that no one had really noticed yet, but Vi was quite proud of.

((Are we doing that now?))

Unlike Virellis, Dagan had been thoroughly disappointed with her recent appointment. It hadn't been a secret, but it meant the stables were empty of human contact for most of the day and he didn't have anyone to tell him when he was entirely unsuitable for human interaction. However, he was adjusting surprisingly well; and, on sunny afternoons such as today, both he and Brutis were known to escape the stables to keep the Siren company. Watching people swing at Morgan was quite the bonus.

"Ten points!" Morgan laughed as he knocked down another of the guards with the flat end of his wooden practice blade. "No more challengers? That's a shame! Come back tomorrow, maybe I'll let you take me on two at a time," He chortled, throwing the blade back to the squire who had supplied him with it. He turned on gold-trimmed heel and happily walked over to where Dagan and Vi were. "Well? Did you like my show?"

"You're not exactly the most humble of victors," Vi chortled. "But it was certainly fun to watch. Where'd you learn to swordfight like that?"

"There are many things I've learned from an undisclosed source. One of them is swordfighting." Morgan grinned. "How's the paperwork going?"

"I've given myself three papercuts so far, but I'm almost done. Dagan, do you have any of that healing cream on you? I'm trying to avoid getting blood all over my work..."

(('This' evening, over dinner? I know you said whenever, but I'm still going to check with you before doing it.))

"Healing cream? Yeah." Dagan reached into a pocket and removed a vial of said healing cream. Alexis was known for getting thorns, sticks, splinters, anything sharp and somehow gouging herself on them. Once she caught scent or sight of her own blood, it was very difficult to keep her under control. After the first few accidents, Dagan had taken to carrying a bottle of enchanted salve, spelled to heal minor scratches and calm the one it was applied to. "You could just wear gloves."

"Yes, but I don't have any light gloves. All I have are the thick ones I use when grooming Brutis," Vi tutted, shaking her head. "We should go shopping. I need some new attire, anyway. The fashion here is completely different than it was in Munich, I'm quite excited to try my hand at some stitching work. I could trim my own dresses...oh, just think of it, Dagan. Morgan, would we be accompanying you to the next ball?"

"I don't see why not. You'd need some pretty fancy attire, but it sounds to me like you've got that covered," Morgan chortled, watching her spread the cream all over her fingers. "I do believe there's an invitation to a ball on Alexander's desk. He hasn't opened it since it arrived, but he knows he can't avoid showing his face forever. After all, there've been all sorts of whispered rumors going about since that run in with the Protestants. Some people actually think that our Alexander was switched out with a decoy!" Morgan laughed. "Absolutely preposterous."

((Oh, for the record, these are mostly half-posts because I always wind up having to go and then I say "BUT THIS HALF-REPLY", so I just post it. It'll get better later. Hopefully. DARN BUSINESS.))

Alexander, just out of a meeting with assorted visiting nobles, chuckled slightly at Morgan's report of conspiracy. "Morgan, I have opened it. I resealed it so any one going through my desk would think I hadn't opened it so I have an excuse to arrive late so I don't have to waist a perfectly good evening at that stupid ball. If I were switched out with a decoy, don't you think the Protestant vandalism would have dropped down a tone? They have no idea the annoyance they cause me." Clearly the endless cycle of aristocratic meetings, Protestant problems, and paperwork had left Alexander more annoyed than he normal.

((You can just post half-finished posts with (CONTINUED) on it and I won't reply until you tell me you're finished. .w.))

"No, but that's just it." Morgan turned to his employer, grinning. "If they didn't want me to suspect anything, they would have carried on as though nothing had changed! Oh well. You're still paying me, so whatever." He chortled, clearly joking. "So we're going to that ball, hmm? This will be interesting, interesting indeed. I'll finally have a chance to wear that new dresscoat I purchased."

((It's more "Well, I could write more to this, or I could post it and see more of Bun's genius. -deliberation- Oh, well, she's just so darn amazing. -post-".))

"Yes, we're going, and Vi is welcome to come so long as she brings a date." Alexander smiled faintly and glanced at the Siren. "Watching every nobleman, old or young, flirt with you for the entire evening would be incredibly tiresome, not to mention all the wives, mothers, and grandmothers who would interrogate me for your lifestory afterward."

((Though, really, Alexander and Dagan have been taking turns very nicely, and Dagan likes to sit in the corner and watch people talk. Silly introvert. Words are for people.))

"No kidding!" Vi sounded horrified at the idea. "Dagan will be my date, naturally." She smiled happily at the animal tamer. "The animals will be fine without us for an evening, I think. We can put them to bed early. I do need a nice dress, though...when's the ball?"

"A week from now. You've got some time." Morgan shrugged. "I doubt anyone would flirt with Vi who she didn't want, though...she could just tell 'em to go off and get a drink and they'd fight over the punch bowl!" He laughed.