4. Confusion

"My family is from the Third," Braedin finally said, leaving out the fact that his family ran the province, and that his mother was from the Second. It mattered not, and would be a mark of poor breeding for him to lord it over his roommate.

They would be living together for quite some time, after all. Of course, the O'Shea family had enough power that Braedin could have had his own room, could have had his own wing, but like everything else, he was doing this on his own merit. Something he could say he had done without using his family's name or connections. It's a pity I couldn't do this without their money, but some compromises must be made.

"What do you intend to study, now that you're at University?" Braedin asked after a pause. He studied the man, noting the quality of his clothing, the positioning of his body, the way he carried himself. There was more to this Seventh Province Kiplin than was immediately obvious, he was sure, but thus far he felt no reason to be hostile. What, exactly, do I feel? Braedin wondered; it certainly wasn't any form of animosity. Rather, he felt overly comfortable with the other young man, as if they had known each other for a long time already. Why?

There were a lot of "whys" recently, but this one seemed to be the most important. Why did he feel the way he did toward the dark-haired stranger?

4. Everything and Nothing

The accent had done it's duty. There was little doubt in Kiplin's mind that the other was tasting the accent and running through the lineage bits...he was finely dressed enough for that sort of thing to have been drilled in. That's what boys needed to learn more than anything in proper families anyway. Yet there was no immediate outburst to mock him. Civil creature, this one, despite the momentary lapse in reaction. "And ya, not from th' sev'th for sure. Too much fin'ry for that, I suspect." He noted with an eye used to appraising fabric from a distance, withdrawing his hand from the brief, but properly firm shake. The other's garments were the sort of thing that would fetch the house thieves a day or two off if gathered in plenty, and absently, he wondered if this O'Shea came from the clan his people had raided on occasion. It seemed an unlikely coincidence, but the places he'd lived...it was always possible.

3.3 Braedin

I hadn't realized how quickly one's dreams and plans could be derailed. I didn't know how to react to the instinctual draw I had to my roommate. It wasn't right. I shouldn't be feeling like that for him. I was above him.

His family was only from the Seventh Province. The seventh. They didn't even rank a seat on the Royal Council. And Kiplin? Kiplin? What sort of name was that? It certainly wasn't his family name. The Seventh Province has no Kiplins. I'd been forced to memorize surnames and genealogies of all the major families of Aegea. So it was either a family nickname, or a first name.

The O'Sheas are far above that. Far, far above. We run the Third Province. The other families of our region defer to us. My mother is the most elegant and powerful Lady I've met to this day. None compare, and none will.

I was simply above this roommate of mine, and thus should not have cared that he had a disarming smile. I shouldn't have craved his friendship so immediately after meeting him, and he should not have been able to get so close to me without any serious reaction. I was above him, and my innate interest unnerved me. It was not alright, and living with him could not be allowed to lead to my slumming.

Perhaps I'm a snob, but when your family has as much power as mine, does it really matter?

3. Something Akin to This

The other actually moved the book. Pheeliz felt his chin drop ever so slightly in surprise. Now he couldn't help but continue reading, wondering what sort of book would enchant the blond before him so much that he would just react on that level of instinct. His smile softened, moving away from predatory and towards something that was actually warm. By the time the dark eyes of his companion had turned to him, the Knight-to-be had taken more than just the initial fancy.

The slow turn from the profile view he had had to the more ideal way to view his room mate was orchestrated with care. Someone with control of their actions! Such a novel surprise. Smiling as the other finally decided what to do with him, he returned the greeting in his own fashion. "'Lo." Kiplin had a long history of laziness in speech that the University promised to beat out of him, but that didn't mean he was going to let it affect him in conversation with his new fancy. Allowing space between them to form, something he was already somewhat reluctant to do, the would-be thief relaxed back, half perching on his bed.

"Braedin?" Pheeliz confirmed, the name comfortable on his tongue, not mangling. "Kiplin's m'name." There was a mischief in offering only one name, with no specificity whether it was a surname or given name. It was, of course, the primary mischief that was the young man's spirit, the metaphorical twinkle in the sapphire prisms. Than the expected, and somewhat more difficult question came.

He could tell the truth. Actually, it wasn't a bad idea, but still, not the best. So he told
a half truth; where his family was now, rather than where they actually came from. There were few here at the University who would appreciate gypsy blood for the great legacy it possessed, still. Racism, even at the highest institute of learning, was still racism. "From Aegea's sev'th province." Truth be told, it was more likely his wording that was bound to stir up something than his actual bloodline these days. He could be articulate, if he wanted.

Well. If he wanted to, he could've also lifted Master O'Shea's pocket gold too, but he hadn't done that yet either.

3. Moments of Intimacy

Braedin reflexively adjusted the book in response to the soft words that came from behind his shoulder. It wasn't until a page or two later that he realized that his roommate was standing behind him, reading over his shoulder. It seemed odd to him, but somehow he hadn't been surprised or irritated by this intimacy. For, it was intimate. He was trusting the other with his back, something that his dark-haired roommate had not earned.

Once Braedin realized this, he turned slowly, his dark eyes meeting his roommate's vibrant gaze. Yet, he did not allow himself to react too quickly. Instead he forced himself to consider his words carefully and determine whether it would be best to keep this instinctive familiarity, or to tear it down and begin working on it from the beginning.

"Hello." Braedin said finally, deciding that perhaps the best course of action would be to ignore the strange incident entirely. "I'm Braedin O'Shea. I suppose I'm your roommate." He smiled cordially, extending his hand to shake. This guy didn't seem bad. Rather, he seemed the sort that was entirely pleasant. But it was best not to make judgments now. They could wait until he had more information to work with. "Where's your family from?"

2. Terrible Tremors

The sleep that stole him was very light, but the dreams that caught his anything but dormant mind were terrifyingly dark. Though he did not move too much in his sleep, Pheeliz felt trapped. A terrible sort of trapped that he was certain he wouldn't be able to escape in time. Fingers trembled, clumsily dropping the lock pick that had been his only hope of getting out before it happened. The sound of the pick dropping and bouncing off the stone floor and through the bars, head over end, slowed in his mind a million times.

The door closed and he was awake, though not opening his eyes. The presence of the other was clear, even with closed eyes. Movement, followed by a stillness that was only interrupted by the soft turning of pages. Maybe it wasn't the blond. He had been certain that one had gotten in on some sort of scholarship for most pleasing to the eye or some odd, not any real intelligence. Unlike Pheeliz who had gotten in on his own brilliance...well, the brilliance involved in stealing someone else's test scores was at least as high as actually passing the tests, that much he was certain of.

Making a show of waking up, yawning gratuitously and stretching out in an entirely feline manner, he turned to inspect his new dorm mate, surveying the form of his reading dorm mate. A dark eyebrow perked up in mild surprise...pretty boy could read. And was doing so at such a pace and involvement that he hadn't even noticed his over-acting. Stalking from his bed over to the desk, he just barely resisted the temptation to slink his arms around the other's neck and give him a real wake-up. But that would be rude. A part of being a Guild Thief was courtesy towards others and knowing when not to soil one's own living grounds.

So instead, he glanced over the other's shoulder, wondering if he held the same aggression others did against the whole 'reading over the shoulder' thing. "Could you perhaps adjust the angle...the haze from outside is producing an awful glare off the page." The words came out as some wicked cross between purr and real utterance. Well trained muscles waited for the oncoming onslaught of natural reaction...the amount of tending this one did to his body had to have some bearing in his reactions to being surprised. If not, it would do him no harm to be prepared, anyway.

2. Explorations

Braedin had been wandering for what seemed like an eternity, seeing the stables, the mews, the kitchens, the laundry, the maid's hall, and the Barracks. There were some comely maids, and Braedin made sure to smile at them, exchanging greetings with those who seemed especially promising. Perhaps they would help him later, in little ways, such as helping him clean, or big ways, such as helping him scratch a very particular itch. One never knew when connections such as those would come in handy.

Having explored as much of the fortress as he could access on the first day, the brawny blonde climbed back up the stairs and re-entered his room. A young man slept on the bed Braedin's bag hadn't claimed, making the room feel much less empty than it had been. The few personal things Braedin had brought needed to be placed around the room. A small photograph of himself and his sister on his last birthday, a few books that he had taken from the library at home (with his mother's permission), and the blanket that he had slept with since infancy. This last was tucked beneath his pillows, hiding it from view.

That established, Braedin flopped down on the bed that was just as soft as it had promised to be. He stared at the ceiling for a while, and attempted to associate this new place with "home". For the next four years, it would be his true home. His mother didn't want him back until he was a Knight. His inability to go home was the price he had paid for this schooling. The price was steep, but in the end, it would give him the power to surpass his sister in prestige, and perhaps be the greatest man to come out of his family in several generations.

This contemplation was not good for him, it led him into a downward spiral. So, with a soft growl, he flung himself up from his bed and sat at his desk, pulling his favorite book towards himself and opening it to his favorite passage. Perhaps it would soothe him where his thoughts had hurt. He sank into the novel, his thoughts far from the room which contained his body.

1. Fresh Prospects

It was fantastic weather when Pheeliz made his way onto campus. Everyone else was miserable, of course, the on and off drizzling was enough to drive anybody mad. Though the weather was terrible for the house-theifs(everyone stayed home on days like this) and even the average pickpocket might not necessarily see it as an advantage, the trickster in the young man saw it as a glorious way to prey on folk's emotions. Gloom and doom meant people were more willing to be coaxed into "something fun" and nervous freshmen like himself were no different.

Within moments of entering into the thrall of students mulling onto the grossly over-sized campus, the man-child had already swindled some of his classmates out of their pocket money. It wasn't too difficult...he had just set up a small betting pool against himself. Rather than hide his talent and skills, the young man had long ago decided to play them for laughs here. To get caught slipping into his old habits could get him found out...but if he treated it like sleight of hand, he could claim that the landowner's son he'd stolen his education from had picked it up to better entertain Ladies. So, pocketing his reward for having knicked another boy's coin purse while he was bragging about his pickpocket defense get up, the bright young man tossed his small travel sack over his shoulder and took off up the stairs to his dormitory.

He caught sight of a rather broad specimen of man heading down the hallway. Though certainly in support of the Ladies, Kiplin was an equal opportunity observer. The fluff of blond curls stood out, but the young man had already made his way past him by then. Of course, that gave him an excuse to glance back and catch view of something else entirely. "Not bad." He muttered, fingers moving to scratch at the scruff on his chin. Glancing at the numbered doors, he tried his key at last, grateful that it turned. As tempting as it had been to forgo the key and pick his way in, it'd be pointless to reveal all the tricks the young master had up his sleeve.

Sliding into the double, he noted that his dormie had already arrived and left again. Assuredly, it would be the blond brute that had passed him on his way up. That's just how Pheeliz's life worked. That the other had sparked a feeling of past meeting only made it more impossible for the other boy...man? to be his room mate for the year. A dark smile stretched at his unshaven face with the thought...part of him strongly hoped to find out that Mr.Light and Handsome would turn out to be just enough of a jerk for him to have fun playing with.

Travel had taken something out of him, and unlike his classmates, he had very little desire to be out and about when he was tired. That was how thieves got caught, and until he had thought of a good reason to go by Kip rather than the given named he had stolen, he wasn't going to leave anyway.

Dropping his knapsack by the foot of his bed, he plopped on top of the bed. As his eye for quality had previously assessed, this year was going to hold some of the most wonderful sleep when he was using his bed for that particular purpose.

1. First Day

The day that Braedin entered the Royal University was not a pleasant day. The mist hung heavy around the fortress, water dripped from the trees around the fortified structure, guards marched unhappily along the battlements, watching the new students. They were examining the new entrants, looking for those with high potential, hoping to spot the promising few where they could.

Braedin had been waiting impatiently for this day for weeks. The letter had come almost a month ago, instilling excitement that had built day by day until it was too much to handle. But the time had come, and he was finally moving in.

Finally the first pieces of his plan were falling into place. Now he merely had to survive the training, an easy accomplishment. It was simple, impossibly so. In a short time, he would be taking classes, claiming the top spot, and graduating as a fully fledged Knight with honors. At least, that was his plan. Braedin was smart enough to realize that he would have to work for such an achievement, and it would not be terribly easy.

A few moments of confusion, a question to a valet, and several flights of stairs later, Braedin entered his room, realizing for the first time what leaving home meant. The wood here was dark, the furniture heavy, not like the light, airy stuff of his bedroom at home. This place was unfamiliar, different, and yet, not entirely unwelcoming. The beds looked downright luxurious with fluffy pillows and warm comforters. Tall windows let light filter through, promising warm brilliance on a sunny day.

The school's uniform hung in the wardrobe, sized perfectly for Braedin; he'd sent his measurements ahead to be sure. He was allowed to bring one formal outfit and one casual to supplement, but everything else, from socks and underwear to pants and jackets were provided. They would want for nothing while they were attending this school.

Cheerfully, Braedin dropped his bookbag on the bed and went to explore the other amenities around the University.

Prologue: Pheeliz

Ever since I was a little kid, I knew I had true skill. With ordinary features, I wouldn't've needed them, but I've got my dad's eyes, and there aren't too many little boys with bright blue eyes and dark curly hair running around. So, being a distinctive looking little brat, I had to have skill to survive. Of course, it did help that my mom's got enough gypsy blood that her wanderlust is stronger than any normal thief, and we never stayed in one city for longer than two months anyway.

Well, until my grandmother died that is. I'd just been nominated for full membership within Mom's guild on base of merit, as I'd been bringing in a reasonable amount of money for an adult house-thief, and an altogether ridiculous amount for a ten year old pickpocket. The lifting lay's a dangerous one, but it pays well if you've got the sort of skill I have. Anyway, when grandmother died, Mom inherited the small share of Guild land grandmother had been living on, and was obligated by grandmother's will to tend to it. The piece of paper claimed it was for my good, to have a normal childhood even if I was a proper member of the Guild already.

I remember being so pissed off at first. If Mom's gypsy blood hadn't been enough, our way of life had certainly given me the wanderlust at least as bad, and being tied to one place seemed a mighty burden.

I wasn't too far off, but I found ways to entertain myself. Of course, now that I'm old enough to chose between Knighthood and going straight into serving the Guild, I've been looking at ways to get into the Royal University. And by looking at ways, I mean tricking one of the higher land owners. See, I pick up their mail sometimes, so that they don't have to spend a day going to the city, and I lifted his acceptance letter. Dummy got another one on the same day for a similarly prestigious school anyway, so's not as if he'll miss it.

So on someone else's exam scores, I've gotten myself in. In and out of this cage that's been killing my Mom for the last eight years. And when I'm a proper Knight on a stolen scholarship, I'll release her from the will's contract by submitting the land as forfeit to some Lady of the Court, letting Mom get back to the Guild as she should be.

Prologue: Braedin

Growing up, I always knew that I was superior. It wasn't just a feeling, it was a fact. The O'Shea family- my family- was one of the greatest families in the Realm. My family had a seat in the Royal Council. My mother had been a premier Lady of the Court before her marriage, my father her devoted Knight. My twin sister Emilie was the belle of the ball, promising to become great, perhaps the next Queen.

I had a plan, a great one- I was going to surpass my sister, become the greatest O'Shea yet. I would make a name for myself as an academic and a Knight by attending the Royal University. Perhaps I would, along the way, capture the heart of the infamous Princess Naomi. In my dreams, all was possible, and I was well on my way to a greater Kingship than anyone had known before.

The first step, however, was a difficult one. The exams for the Royal University were vigorous, and though the right connections could be used to help me skirt around them, I had every intent of doing this on my own power. I didn't want there to be a chance for doubt when I used this as my foundation for future conquests. Of course, with 17 years of study behind me, the exams I took on my 18th birthday were simple, and I was accepted unconditionally.

I had great plans, and with this step behind me, nothing was going to stop me.