child abuse, tbo canon
There is a chill in the air today.
Charlie pulls his jacket tighter around his shoulders, giving a nod to the servant on the other side of the glass. She returns the nod, expression grave, before leaving him in the back gardens.
Locked out again.
Father found the bloodstains from his practice, and decided to discourage further “damage of property” by ordering him out into the night for the nth time.
Charlie sighs and paces to keep warm for now.
He’s grateful, at least, that as low as he is, he’s no sube. Compared to him, they’re animals. He’s better than them. Granted, he’s never spoken to any sube, but it’s a relief to see that someone else is suffering.
And that he can enforce that suffering.
As much as his mother disapproves of this attitude, there’s no reason for him to pretend he doesn’t hate them.
He coughs. The stitches on his thighs itch. He wasn’t allowed enough time to apply a poultice to the lines. Frustrating. He stares at the forest longingly.
He’s told that there are families deep in the forest, all sube. It pisses him off that even sube can find freedom somewhere, and he can’t ever escape. He’s got so little time left until his father simply loses patience and marries him to whoever would accept his hand. And then he’s expected to engage in… ugh.
Charlie stands at the edge of the forest, staring in. Wouldn’t it be funny if he just branded himself and ran off?
He’s not ready for that yet. And he still enjoys being above something.
It’s time to gather wood and try to start a fire. It’s only going to get colder.