Chapter Text
Today was a cacophony of cheap, disgusting liquor and shitfaced people. They kept coming into whichever bar he slithered into, one after another, it made no difference. They were drunk, they were oblivious, they were the audience set in front of his stage.
And Cale was a grand performer.
Cale took a swig on his wine, snickering to himself as the bitter sting ran down his throat. His legs tumbling through the alleyway with practiced clumsiness. He was thankful that he didn't have to put his all in acting today, silently thanking his past self for choosing to loiter around the day bars closer to home rather than the louder, noisier, more fun clubs downtown that offered services no matter what time you entered.
If he went there, he might would've had to dial up his drunkenness up a notch.
As such, was the day and night of the one and only Cale Henituse. The eldest of Deruth Henituse's children, heir of the count's seat as well. A noble and spoiled brat, always drinking from sunrise till sunset, causing trouble within the territory so shameful it spread to the very heart of the capital- and even further to the edges of the Roan Kingdom. Possibly beyond!
And to everyone but himself, that will remain the truth.
Never mind that being a violent drunk was one of the the least offending crimes when it came to nobility, that he never hit someone, that he never killed, never kidnapped or took advantage of the citizens in his territory- it was never about the crime itself, it was the fact that it was public. That it was seen.
Cale Henituse, as he was, carefully- or recklessly, considering how he made it to be- cultivated his reputation with utmost care. His motives? Unknown to everyone but himself and perhaps, maybe, he father. But the old man wouldn't dare do anything, not with Cale toeing the fine line between disgraced and runaway- or so he made Deruth think.
He'd never abandon his family.
Shadows grow and murmurs lessen, bells stuck on tavern doors jingle as more and more patrons leave.
Cale frowns, He'd have to go home soon.
A quick glance at the moon's position and his gut feeling (mostly his gut feeling) proved that he had around ten more minutes till Hans would start waiting for him at the entrance of the manor, eight before the nausea from a whole day drinking session would catch up to him, four before most of the pubs around him would close for the night, and a glaring fifteen minutes before his coachman would arrive at his pick up spot.
From there, the carriage ride to the Henituse Estate would take roughly twenty minutes.
He could go right, stick to his routine, stay in line, keep suspicion off his back and pray to his mother that he doesn't pass out in a random dingy street again….
Or, he could go left, skip the carriage, go straight home early, and pull a tantrum later?
Cale swirls the drink in his flask, mulling over his choices. He'd have to pay his driver double for being utterly useless, but that was barely an issue.
click!
He flicked his flask shut, moving away leaning on the wall and swaying slightly- not enough to knock him off balance, but just enough to sell the act. His legs took him through the back-alleys of his territory- the soles of his shoe finding familiar rocks, stale air greeting his lungs he'd grown used to.
Cale turns left.
If he took this route, he'd be home in roughly eighteen to twenty minutes.
Cale hums a small tune, purposefully offkey, giggling at his own antics when he purposefully stumbles or trips over his own feet multiple times. Paying no mind to the usual hooded figures and homeless tattered people that loitered around these paths.
They'd be re-homed soon enough, he was sure. Father has been working on long term solutions ever since he could remember, slowly putting them in action in these past years. It was only a matter of time before the build and charity procedures could truly start.
He makes another turn, about to swig himself another sip of his wine when-
-!?!?
His thoughts faltered as he staggered backwards, arms flailing around- he struggled to resist his attacker dragging him somewhere-
Someone was covering his mouth and nose with some kind of cloth- Cale did his best to not breath it in, using his arms and elbows to hit and pull his kidnapper away- but it was futile, the bastard kidnapping him was much, much larger. The bastard keeping a firm grip on his mouth as panic rose and flared in Cale's chest.
'No'
Tears welled up in his eyes, he tried to scream, tried to wretch his way out, kicked and bit the cloth around his face in hopes it would do anything-
It did not.
The last thing he saw was an abrupt flash of light, blurry hazes of color and ringing voices as his vision went hazy. Thinking was so, so hard- his could feel himself drifting away-
"—Loo—b—th—infor— h— e—arr-" the voice was muffled, but he could distantly comprehend that it was rough and frustrated.
A wave of nausea makes itself known in spite of Cale's attempt to stay awake, spots fill his vision rapidly as he tries to cling onto every word that's being said. He has to stay awake.
A scoff, "—sure—he's th—b—"
He has to stay awake.
"—look—or? w—c—ind—so-" the person was louder, annoyance evident in the tone.
He has to stay-
Thwack!
Something hits the back of his neck, and Cale knows no more.
He woke up in an empty cell with his wrists chained to the wall and a mere hole in the ground to piss in.
"…" He curled himself into a ball, wrapping his arms around himself in a meager attempt at feeling safe.
There was once a time where Cale longed to drop his act and forsake the fragile balance he had created within the noble society, so he could finally find his place in the new family that roamed his home.
No matter how much he yearned, he didn't act on his desires. Never allowed himself to accept that family outside his mind, his heart- if only to protect Basen, to protect mother, protect Lily.
He remembers Basen when they first met, he'd been so small, so adorable- so strong, brave and oh so capable.
Basen was a Henituse in all but blood, and Cale will gleefully support his younger brother's ascension to territory lord when the time comes.
He remembers worrying himself sick when Lily was born- then when he'd held her for the first time, Lily's face scrunched up as she tried to reach for his face, giggling when Cale let her hold his finger.
He'd cried. He cried and cried and vowed to the heavens and earth that he'd do whatever it'd take to protect his sister- no matter the cost.
His chest aches at the memory.
If he knew that he would have disappeared regardless of his actions, he would have at least told his siblings he loved them-
Gods.
Fear burned through his veins as Cale's eyes threatened to fill themselves with tears.
His family might never know he loved them.
His family might never know he-
His chest ached.
Cale wanted to be free of his mask, to be free of his act.
Just not like this, never like this-
Tak, tak, tak,
The sound of footsteps and the jingling of keys right outside his cell made him snap out of his thoughts, Cale's head lifting as his arms unfurled from where they were, still shaking and irrevocably filled with fear at his almost guaranteed death.
He's greeted by a knight with a long, white hair, with green eyes and a pleasant smile. The man's helmet tucked into his arm greets Cale, who only glares in response.
"Hello, Young Master Cale." He says gently.