For the second time, Xan had no idea where he was when he woke up. It was dark, but oddly warm and soft. It was strangely. comforting.
He sat up and stretched, yawning slightly. His muscles were loose, like he'd been sleeping for hundreds of years. He smiled, feeling refreshed. That was until he heard someone on the other side of the curtain moving around.
He slowly parted the curtains and peeked through a small gap between the two thick fabrics. There stood a man with his back to the bed. His hair was wet and he looked as if he had just put his pants on. Said pants were tight and black, accenting his long legs.
He was pulling a dark gray tunic over his head as Xan watched, then pulled his long hair into a pony tail and tied it with a piece of black ribbon.
The man sighed and slipped on a pair of black slippers. He seemed worried about something in Xan's mind, but he didn't know since he couldn't see his face.
Someone knocked on the door and the man shouted for him or her to enter. A small girl walked in.
"Master Phaulkin, your father wishes to know if you are going to join him in the dining hall this evening or stay in your room again. What shall I tell him, master?" she asked timidly.
The man sighed again. "Tell him I'll be there."
Xan frowned as she left. This was that horrible prince's brother. What kind of guy was he? He seemed so withdrawn and cutoff, like he didn't want to be here.
"I take it you're awake now," said Phaulkin out of the blue.
"Yes. I am," Xan answered.
"Did you enjoy your rest?"
"Yes."
Phaulkin nodded, "Good. That's. good. So."
Xan frowned. This guy was so weird. He was stuck with this nut for the next few, however long he was going to be here He was being to wonder if suicide would be the answer.
"He already can't stand you, baby brother. I think this is a record," Phox said as he walked in.
"Phox, while you may be father's heir that does not give you the right to come into my room without asking. And just because you hate me, doesn't mean the rest of the world does."
"Really? I thought it did. And I don't hate you, stupid."
"I'm not stupid!" Phaulkin said angrily. He proceeded to attack Phox, tackling him to the ground. Xan's eyes grew wide as they began beating at each other, punches flailing and feet kicking wildly.
He got out of the bed and walked over and tried to stop them, but to no avail. Finally, he grabbed Phaulkin's ponytail and pulled him away. They were both breathing heavily and a small bit of blood was running down Phox's lip.
Phox smirked, "Looks like you've got a friend, doesn't it, baby brother? He did save you after all."
"You're the one who's bleeding, moron," Phaulkin replied while glaring at him.
Phox frowned and touched his lip then looked at the blood on his fingers. "Looks like you got in a good punch for once," he growled.
Phox turned and left, while Phaulkin turned and went through his cherry wood doorway to his personal bathroom. Xan frowned and followed him.
"Are ye alright?" he asked softly.
"Fine. That happens all the time. He's stupid," Phaulkin called from the bathroom, rage laced into his voice.
Xan laughed slightly, "So I've noticed. What's 'is problem?"
Phaulkin came back out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear and sighing, "He doesn't have a problem; he just hates me. Everyone does, so it's nothing new."
"Why does everyone hate you?" Xan asked.
"I'm a recluse, I don't talk to anyone and I don't want to. It's very simple really. I don't like people and I don't like to be near them."
"Is that why he got me? And if you don't like to talk to people, why are you talking to me?"
Phaulkin smiled softly, "There's something about you. I don't know what, but I feel... comfortable around you. Everyone else makes me nervous, like I have to perform for them and pretend to be something I'm not."
Xan nodded and looked at the blond, "Well, I'm glad."