How to Make a Sinner Sleep - Chapter 47: Chapter 47

"There'll be an excursion soon. I expect you to attend."
Kaden knelt on the cushioned carpet, a sombre red against the swept floor, free of even slight dirt or grime. Orderly, in a way where any mess was taken as a secret to be hidden, locked in the closet or swept into the bins.
He kept his head lowered, not quite in the mood to bicker with Reed's authority. To begin with, there was a time and place to argue, and this wasn't it.
There was a delicate balance—Reed tolerated Kaden's carefree and biting remarks, but only when it suited him, only when his mood hadn't soured by the day's affairs.
Kaden had to wonder why Reed didn't abuse the curse more often, mild as it was.
Reed regarded Kaden's silence, rather pleased. Seeing the whorl at the top of the head of pink hair both gave him a sense of authority and also discomfort. There was always some discomfort in watching Kaden, having him in the room.
The man didn't think that had always existed.
But he couldn't recall the days where Kaden had first stepped into the castle, likely with dirt covering the expanse of his skin and sharpened, cautious eyes.
A tug ached at Reed's chest, and his lips bent in dislike. His head throbbed, though it often did, plagued by headache.
It eased him, speaking to Kaden in a rough, arrogant manner, as if looking down on the other. It eased him; and it also made him feel drawn away from reality, as if his thoughts and emotions didn't align.
Kaden, growing impatient and not wanting to remain under Reed's scrutiny, spoke. "Your highness. Is that all?"
He was tired—last night, and for several more days, he'd spent locked in his own room. After the strange conversation with Night and the man's mysterious disappearance, Kaden wasn't in much of a good mood.
The dragon's lull of conversation later, from outside the singular door they both leaned against, had brought some warmth back to him and eased his mind.
"I don't recall giving you permission to speak."
"And I don't ever recall being one to wait for permission." He raised his head, a dark flash of disobedience in the rich green eyes, carved from emeralds and gems. "Will you punish me for that?"
"It's hardly amusing when you ask for a punishment." waved Reed, looking away with a scowl.
Kaden sighed. "The excursion. What would you like from me? If it's simply my attendance, you wouldn't have called me here. You prefer living as if I don't exist."
Sharp-tongued and full of malice, Kaden was and always had been. But like a habit hammered into his brain, he would never truly go against Reed. The countless nights locked in that Room with no light or sound had worn that defiance away.
The beatings and lashes had imprinted the consequence of disobedience. Much as he'd like to pretend, Kaden, with or without the curse, could never properly stand up for himself.
See, Reed's curse didn't disallow Kaden from fighting back.
But the idea of punishment did.
"You'll be traveling to the Land of the Fae. There have been recent cases of minor fairies or pixies disappearing on human grounds, so there'll be an investigation going on. Tell me anything to learn from it."
"Disappearing...?"
There asw a delicate balance between all races—one wouldn't attack them for no reason. Most preferred to live among themselves, in the safety of what they knew, rather than the unknowns they could never fully understand.
More importantly, what use would such information serve to Reed?
Had the cases been related to whoever was gathering the blood of other species? And why would Kaden be attending? It would likely be a limited amount of students, and while gaining experience of other species was something the Academy advocated, it didn't make sense.
"Don't overthink it." said Reed gravely, clear to the questions that flickered in Kaden's eyes. "If you can bring me back useful information, then I'll reward you."
Kaden sneered at that, lifting his chin. "What reward could you give that I'd want?"
"A mission for your lovely little group, perhaps? Misfits of Obscurity, as you named it. Now, don't look at me like that—you should know that I would be informed of everything you do."
Kaden pushed away his horrified surprise. "You're monitoring me."
"Not necessarily. If I really wanted to ruin your life, I'd utter a command you couldn't break, or have you repent in that precious Room of yours."
"Then how did you—"
"By chance, I've borne witness to your little activities. I won't put a stop to them—I'll even help you. I do want you to enjoy your time here while it lasts."
Reed regarded him with a grating look that seemed to peel Kaden's skin piece by piece, stripping him into some miserable creature with no rights. "I've heard that you kicked up a ruckus lately. That your abilities ran amok. Is that true?"
"If you're monitoring me, Prince, wouldn't you know?"
"I said I wasn't. I'm alerted of the more pressing matters, and your little breakdown isn't worth a deeper investigation. Answer me. Now."
Kaden gasped as he felt the back of his hand burn with white-hot flames, searing into his skin as he cradled his palm. A pain that penetrated his skin, veins and bones. It was sharp; it was momentary.
It was Reed's curse of obedience.
Growing more powerful by the day with the other's developed ability. Hardly able to be called a crude mark that a young teenager had originally placed.
"It's true." said Kaden through gritted teeth. "The cause is undetermined. I haven't been using my abilities, and therefore, the Professor cannot determine what caused it."
Satisfied at the information, Reed leaned back into the bed but his gaze held a look of thoughtful contemplation, and the crease placed between his eyebrows told of a concern, or vague wondering. There was something bothering him, Kaden realized.
"Your abilities, Kaden. Do not intentionally use them without my permission." said Reed finally.
He wore an expression of such solemness and rigid tension, Kaden momentarily fell at a loss. Another flash of impossible pain burst in the back of his hand, and he realized it wasn't a suggestion.
It was an order.
"I do not care if you're bleeding on the streets, or fighting for your life and death. Do not use your abilities without my permission. Understood?"
Kaden forced out a lopsided grin through his pain. "You don't leave me much of a choice, Reed Chauvet. Why does it matter? Why do you care? What do my episodes have to do with you?"
Reed shook his head, raising a palm to press his temples, furrowed eyebrows locked in a headache. "Get out. I've said all I wanted to say."
Kaden couldn't disobey, so he bowed with an exaggerated flare and stalked out of the room. When the door shut, Reed walked over to his desk crowded with sheets of paper. He swept an arm against them, sending the papers fluttering in the air around.
He bent and grasped the edges, curling his fingers around it in agony. Eyes skimming the papers that remained, panic settled in his stare.
"A relapse." breathed the Crown Prince in a hushed whisper, alone in the piles of scattered paper, and the dimmed light of his lamp that pulsed with the beat of his heart.
He collapsed to the ground and curled up in the center.
Once, there had been a young child willing to sit by his side when he was ill, to care for him when no other would. It had been a happiness very precious to him, very dear.
But that child was destined to become a monster.
And Reed couldn't continue in his delusions any longer.
Kaden waited outside the door, tracing a finger over the back of his gloved hand. He leaned against the wood, steadying the rise of his emotions. Every time he saw Reed, he felt a deep rooted hatred.
That wasn't all. He felt a longing for the past, for the short period of time they had lived as something akin to family. He felt a respect that had once been printed into his mind, and also compulsion to obey that he could discern was the curse of his own foolery.
Reed, his curse giver, the one that shackled his limbs.
Reed, his saviour, who'd given him the opportunity to fly.
Reed, the admirable, everything he wasn't and could never become.
Kaden spun on his heels, away from the room and away from his confused feelings. He was walking without a destination in mind, but his feet knew where to lead him.
To the quiet corner in the library, nestled between two shelves that were rarely frequented. Noah had a spread of books about abilities, open-faced as he read through.
At a glance, it was evident that he was doing an intensive research with scribbled notes, and an open pen laying at the side. He lifted his gaze slowly at Kaden's approach, barely reacting.
Instead, his pure black eyes took Kaden's appearance in, reading in between the lines that were Kaden's jumbled thoughts and emotions, making inferences and hypothesis that could be entirely wrong, or completely correct.
Kaden didn't really care; he liked the way Noah viewed him as a story whose pages were endless. Some would say it was a judgmental stare, Kaden thought it was a stare that made a person feel seen.
"Your mental state." said Noah finally. "How is it?"
"Where's my hello? The 'I've missed you so much, my dearest and lovely Chauvet, let me wait on you like a slave because I'm oh so worried about you'?"
"If you want a response like that, I'd advise you seek Niklas out. He's been looking for you as well."
Kaden shuddered at the thought of that. Certainly, Niklas knew which buttons to push to disturb the sinner deeply. If that man spoke disgusting words like that, Kaden might become inclined to stay healthy and safe.
He pulled out a seat beside the dragon as Noah shuffled the books slightly to leave a space for Kaden to intrude.
"You're researching."
"It's unwise to leave an issue left to chance." The dragon flipped the page, the crinkle of paper loud in the silent library. "You could experience that chaos again, and it's best to be aware of what's happening and why."
"Well, what information have you discovered, my intelligent dragon?"
Noah shot him a look of displeasure, and Kaden offered a sly smile in return. The dragon sighed. "There's nothing. I'll need to look through more records."
"I have a question then, Bellamy."
"What is it?"
"Why are you doing this?" Kaden's smile dropped into a thin frown and he stared right into the vortex of black. "It's an issue that is of no obligation to you, and mine alone to solve."
"You're choosing an odd time to make me an outsider, Chauvet. I've spent several nights on the floor outside your door, with worrying about you in my daily schedule." said Noah, voice low and irritated at the question.
"Do not take me for a person who leaves the people in their life to die or rot away with illness. I am not that terrible."
"I don't doubt it. But listen, Bellamy, I have a bad feeling. I can't explain it, but I don't think it'll lead to anything good. I trust my feelings."
Reed's involvement and mysterious behaviour was already a cautionary sign to step back, to stay away before being dragged into the man's red-painted schemes.
"I don't care about whatever that is. I'll do as I please."
"What I'm saying, Bellamy, is that it isn't a mess for the likes of you to involve yourself with."
"The likes of me." repeated Noah darkly, pressing the book shut. "And what is that?"
Kaden licked his chapped lips out of nervousness. He hadn't come to the library to argue with Noah; he'd come to relieve himself of the stress and anxiety that tugged at his chest. Regardless, he responded with a rare honesty.
"The one of the dragon's bloodline. Born strong and powerful, charming by the genetics that make you. At the top of the food chain. You shouldn't get involved with petty strife, or dangerous dealings. This isn't a place you should interfere with."
Noah gave him a long, hard look that could easily be understood as disappointment, an urge to strangle, and bitter irritation. "Alright."
Kaden breathed a sigh of relief. The amount of suffering Noah would be subjected to was enough. He didn't want the man to face anything else. After Night had left last night, Kaden was left with confusion and doubt.
There was something brewing; he'd known that the day he smashed the mirror of his reflection to shards, and cursed his existence. But nothing was ever simple, and the tangled branches only continued to grow.
However, Noah continued to read through the books calmly, noting down a few points.
"You don't have to look into it anymore, Bellamy."
"Chauvet. You have your right to your speech and beliefs." said Noah instead. "And I have the rights to my actions. I will listen to what you say, but I will not do as you say. If that's unacceptable to you, learn to live with it."
They held each other's stare as if the first to break away would be admitting their loss. Noah didn't like unnecessary drama, nor did he enjoy these pointless arguments.
He liked quiet and simplicity, and as of late, he liked quiet and simplicity with Kaden, and without the self-deprecation and confidence that everybody harboured some secret hatred for him.
That wasn't entirely correct either.
Kaden's vulnerability, his weakness that formed itself into demands for others to not care, the way the man stood strong and buried all his weaknesses; Noah admired that. He respected it, and grew to enjoy the trust Kaden gave him.
But he hated the fact that Kaden could possibility not understand that he was perfectly normal of being cared for, and that people would help him because they liked him.
Kaden didn't look away, a sudden calmness washing over his face as that mocking, stupid smile pulled at his lips, at his facade. "There'll come a time you'll regret saying that."
"And those regrets will be mine to learn, not yours to teach."
"Regardless—"
Another book slammed shut with such force, Kaden flinched. Noah's anger simmered now, neatly placed by a sheen veil of emotion as his eyes sharpened, deadly and dark. Lips flattened to a thin line of displeasure, tension along his broad shoulders.
"You're persistent in stirring arguments as of late, Chauvet. What would you like to hear?"
There was frustration and irritation. Exasperation and coldness.
"I don't give a damn about your mental inflictions, and I should hope that it consumes you until you're a pale corpse at my feet. Your life and death don't mean a thing to me, you are as insignificant as any other person, a character that I view through lenses that I have no care to know below the surface."
"Is that it? Is that what you desire? Do you feel satisfied hearing that I don't care, that I wouldn't flinch if I saw your body dead at my feet? Are you happy hearing me speak like a monster with no emotions?"
The chair scraped against the ground, resounding.
Noah was standing now, his shadow stretching out along the rows of books, the smell of leather and paper and old wood in the air. Kaden leaned back in his wooden chair, looking up.
There was something there, something that almost seemed like self-doubt that Kaden didn't think were true, because Noah was Noah; he was proud and strong; he was one of the most unique bloods in the Kingdom.
He was more than Reed, who stood at such a height that Kaden once admired and revered in his tattered clothing.
Noah was a hero, quiet as the night skies and the stars that were sewn and watching, but as blinding as the sunlight that made flowers grow and people to rejoice.
Noah stared at Kaden, turned to tidy his books into a neat stack that was topped off with a note of 'Do not touch' and then walked around the table. He walked away, long strides made with no hesitation.
"Bellamy! Why are you leaving?" Kaden couldn't help but ask.
"Right now," said the dragon slowly. "I don't think I can have a proper conversation with you, in this state of mind. I disagree with most of your words, and since you disagree with mine as well, I believe we should end the conversation."
"We're having a discussion."
"It's one sided. There's no discussion if neither party wishes to compromise."
"I'm not undermining you, Bellamy. I meant nothing bad."
Noah shook his head. "Consider this. That your words, which you think mean nothing to you, may mean something to another. That your actions of pushing others away, because you believe it's best for them, causes more harm than good."
It was rare for the dragon to voice out his thoughts so much, with such firmness that meant he was unwilling to wait and listen to a debate.
He'd said his piece, and so Noah turned again and left. Kaden slumped back into his chair, tired and drained.