Chapter 120: Childhood friends
DO RE MI…
Again the pale fingers stopped on the cold white keys of the piano.
They played a melody, a musical scale, always monotonous and continuous.
Juniper's fingers moved on the instrument slowly, patiently, but with a rhythm that in every way expressed a great sadness and melancholy.
They went from the largest and white keys of the piano to the smaller and black ones, thus forming over his time a mixture of sounds between the flat and the sharp.
He couldn't exactly play a real song in that mood, although in his childhood the baron had been used to playing the piano very often, he loved that instrument, so its study had never brought him any problems.
But at that moment he no longer loved anything, anything that bound him to that world.
He had no room in his thoughts for his family, for his son, for his cousins, for Henry, for John who had died prematurely in such a horrible way.
No, not for John, who despite being his cousin had betrayed them, he could not mourn him, because perhaps because of him he could have lost everything and everyone he loved.
He had done it only for the love of a woman, for the love of Isabelle.
Juniper knew what it felt like, he knew it perfectly, because long ago, in his early teenage, he too had been in love with her.
But the war was a delicate condition, it was like a wall made of stones without foundation, the mere lack of a stone was enough for the work to collapse.
He was sure Henry wouldn't make the same mistake, the prince had a lot more to lose than any of them ever could have.
He could lose his family, his lands, his very life in an instant.
Living was difficult, much more than just dying.
The baron kept moving his fingers slowly over the keys, some of his numerous soft curls slowly descending on his pale, sweaty forehead.
-Stop this din, I beg you, you are not even playing a well defined song... - interrupted a voice from behind his back, a little further away, seated on one of the upholstered armchairs that were in the room.
He passively felt the presence of the other behind him, he felt him motionless, but he felt he was there.
Juniper turned his blue eyes briefly, didn't move his pale, sweaty face, didn't want to look like he had particularly touched him, but he did, just enough to see what his host was doing.
He was not used to visits, not in those times and not before the official outbreak of the war, also because for his safety it could be dangerous to host an enemy in his own home.
But on that occasion he had gladly decided to open the doors to some of his acquaintances, he had been alone since his wife and son had left him, so that his loneliness had begun to turn into a sort of depression.
-Michael... - the baron's pale and dry lips stammered -...why are you so hostile towards me? Why are you so keen to leave me like this, not to give me support?-.
The guest had put a small cigar between his lips lighting the end, he had started smoking.
That smell disgusted Juniper, he couldn't stand it but at that point when he was alone and abandoned by everyone, he could stand it, if that meant not losing even the only person closest to him.
Juniper was still young, he was only thirty years old, yet he felt he could no longer draw anything from his life, that he had never succeeded.
His host took the cigar from his lips, let out some of that white smoke, smiled suggesting a fairly rebellious and free attitude from his deeds.
Juniper put up with him, he had known the man since they were both children, they had always been childhood friends just as their families had been very close.
Michael Hayes, also came from a relatively noble and highly placed family and it was perhaps for this reason that, as was the custom, the two offspring of the two respective families had grown up together.
-Stop whining like a dog with its tail between its legs, that won't help you, don't you think so?-Michael replied by moving some of his brown hair to his forehead.
He had changed so much since they were children, they hadn't seen each other in an eternity, yes, but his character, his attitude, was just so ferocious and detached that Juniper almost struggled to understand what could have changed their relationship so much.
The Whiteblossoms and Hayes had always been great allies, yet now, it almost seemed like a risk for the two longtime friends to meet.
Michael had smaller eyes than Juniper's and a duller greyish color, into which the baron was now almost afraid to look.
-You know, when you escaped from the North, you left the regency to my family...- the guest added, returning to place the cigar between his lips, nibbling at the end with his white teeth.
-What's the point?- Juniper asked with a streak of disappointment in this.
-You have never deigned to write anything, not even rarely, you have completely forgotten what your place in the world was...-.
The baron sat a few minutes in silence, on the one hand Michael was right, in those years he had been so busy with his problems that he completely forgot who his friends or what his true ideals were.
But he would never agree to give the reason to anyone other than himself, he was too proud, so he just pressed his dry, pale and thin lips together.
-Finish with this nonsense, you should be happy for me, by the time I finally become the king of all England, as the late king's nephew, I will also become your king, don't forget...-.
Michael smiled again forcibly, a real relationship of unmotivated rivalry had been created between the two, were it perhaps for those years spent in remorse and distance?
He put his hands in his brown and soft hair, pushed his head back towards the soft back of the precious armchair, gently bit his lower lip with his teeth.
Did Juniper really want that dominance role? He didn't see much as a person so strong and determined to be able to fill a role as a royal, he felt in his heart that this could not become true, he knew him too well.
-And then say, tell me, how your campaign is going for the moment...-.
Juniper reconsidered it was one of the weaknesses of his actions, not having a well-defined plan for now.
The baron took his delicate and noble face in his pale and cold hands, sighed, so much so that the cold soon began to change into a light cloud of steam.
-We are literally in shit, for now everyone is taking their own initiative, one thing to wait for in these cases, right?-.
His guest smiled slightly, shook his head, they were slowly breaking the ice and somehow he was managing to let his friend vent without exactly showing it.
-I heard the Stanleys have now reached the borders of Norwich...-.
Juniper nodded shifting some of his curls back to his forehead -Yes, but not to fight, they are particularly keen to retrieve someone over there-.
Michael nodded, placed the cigar between his fingers, slowly tapped the ashtray carved in precious oak wood twice.
-Do you really trust the Stanleys? I mean, you know what rumours have always been around their father...-.
-That they not really trustworthy, without morals, without ideals, I know this rumours well but they are our only allies apart from the French in this war-.
Michael smiled again -Our?- he asked tightly between his lips -no one has ever mentioned an us in all of this, no one has ever said that my family is keen to help you...-.
Juniper suppressed his anger, a certain acidity reaching his throat, then invading his mouth.
Michael, it was such a beautiful name, it was the name of an angel, of the most important of angels, yet he possessed such acidity in the heart that make his character that of a real demon.
He loved to provoke him, he didn't know why all this had changed so much, but it was something that seemed to bring him satisfaction.
-And then how do you plan to do, if you went to war and, by evil fate if you were not able to survive, you would leave this world without having generated any heir to leave in charge...-.
Juniper pressed his lips together, this was true, but even here he didn't want to give reason to an insolent like him.
-My son Rudolph will take my place in an emergency...-.
Michael laughed slythly, it was clear to him too that the boy was not Juniper's biological son, he knew as was now clear to most of the kingdom.
The baron seemed embittered, he wanted to throw him out of his fortress, out of his house and his lands, where he was no longer visible to his sight, but not before asking something:
-So...will you fight on our side or do you want to forever remain one of the greatest pieces of shit in history?-.
Michael smiled, once again, placed his hand, dipped it back into his brown hair, sighed.
-How much will you pay?- he asked unscrupulously -how much will you pay for my death?-.
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