Roman ran his hand along the wall as he made his way to the gardens. He liked it outside in the garden, there was so much more than inside. So much more to sense and visualise.

"Door, door, door, door." He muttered as he felt for where the plaster-covered brick turned to the smooth wood of the door. Roman supposed that if he wanted, he could run his fingers over the whole of the door and memorise every knot and grain in the wood. If he ever got that desperately bored.

Finding the door, Roman ran his hand down the wood to find the cool copper doorknob. "Please be unlocked." He thought. He didn't know where the keys were and while that probably would've been fine if he could run around the halls at high speed like his brother, it wasn't ideal when he had to walk slowly, feeling his way along.

The doorknob turned in his hand and he felt the summer breeze on his face. Roman smiled and felt for the lace in his pocket. It was surprising how quickly the things Remus brought him from the village became his comfort blankets.

Roman stepped outside and braced himself for the moment when his hand would leave the door and he'd have nothing to guide him. It wouldn't be long, a couple of seconds at most, but it was daunting all the same. He took a breath and reached his hand out in front of him, trying to find a hedge or anything to help him find the paths.

"And we're here." He muttered to himself as he felt the leaves and rough twigs under his hand. He started walking again, running his hand along the hedge. "Probably the closest we're ever going to get to the outside world." He said quietly.

Roman didn't know when he'd started talking to himself but there wasn't much company when Remus was away. So he'd started telling himself stories to pass the times. Stories of the evil witch who'd cursed him with blindness and the brave prince who came to save him and restored his sight. He'd never thought about a princess saving him. Roman supposed he'd never been as interested in princesses as he was in princes.

"This is idiotic." He muttered. "I'm nearly 17 and I haven't been outside the castle once." He looked up at the sky, a huge mix of blues. He could see colours clear enough but shapes were indiscernible.

Roman stopped when he heard a fountain playing. He smiled and sat down, his knees drawn up to his chest. "Fountain song." He mumbled quietly. He took the piece of lace out of his pocket and ran it through his fingers again. "I wonder what your story is." He said quietly. "Who did you belong to? Were they nice? I wonder if they would've liked me... if I would've liked them."

"Mother! Mother!" Virgil sighed and closed his book with a snap. If Thalia was whining about something, she'd almost certainly find a way to pin it on him.

"What's wrong?" Darla asked.

Thalia stamped her foot and crossed her arms. "I can't find my dress! You know, my really pretty yellow one with the pink lace on the bottom."

Virgil rolled his eyes and got up from the hearth. He was due for a growth-spurt any day and hit his foot on the metal, still hot from the last fire. Virgil bit down on his tongue, half out of habit and half out of pain.

"I think I know where the dress is, Miss Darla." He said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Darla shot him a pained looked before looking up at the ceiling. Virgil didn't blame her. He'd grown up to look a lot more like his dad than he'd anticipated.

"Where do you think it is, Virgil?" Darla asked. Thalia glared at him and mouthed "Yeah. Where?"

Virgil bit back another sigh before answering. "We sold it, remember Thalia? Last time the Rag-and-Bone Man came by I asked if you still wanted to keep the yellow and pink dress. You said no, that you didn't need it." Virgil shrugged and crossed his arms. "My guess is that it's in several pieces now, all over the market."

Thalia opened her mouth in protest but Darla nodded curtly. "There, Thalia. You can't find the dress because it's not in the house."

Thalia started a sentence but Virgil raised an eyebrow at her. Thalia closed her mouth slowly and stormed off. She wasn't scared of her step-brother but she wasn't stupid. If she made a fuss at Virgil, she'd break her perfect angel image in front of her mother. "That all, Miss Darla?" Virgil asked. Darla nodded.

"Yes, yes, sorry to drag you away from your studies, Virgil. I know how little time you get with Edin and Thalia calling you every five seconds." Virgil shrugged awkwardly.

"It's fine." He lied. "I don't really mind it."

Am I going to make a tall Virgil for this story? Maybe, who knows? You don't know, I don't know, no one knows!
Bye,
Blaize