azryal00 asked: Hiya! Still working on the not nagging thing, but wanted to know if there's a part of you that would feel pity for me and perhaps give us another preview???? *puppydogeyes*

“So, what’s his history with Shaw, then?” Just asking outright might not get him an answer as specific as he’d like, but being too direct meant that he might not get an answer at all.

Angel laughed a little bit, setting the bowl back down. “You’d probably know more than I do. You should try asking Darwin when he comes up to talk to you. He’s been here the longest. Well, aside from Frost, but you shouldn’t talk to her at all if you can help it.”

Charles had been here for months and he’d never met Frost. Raven had mentioned her in passing, he was sure, and he was a bit surprised that Shaw hadn’t dictated his care to her. From what he could tell, she was the one in charge of the goings on around the castle. But he wasn’t going to complain. Talking with her likely would have gotten him in trouble or no where it at all—neither of which were outcomes he was looking for.

He smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind, Angel. Thank you.”

She replied in kind as she gathered up the things from his lunch and left. None of them ever lingered, and he was sure it was because Lady Frost must have kept them on a tight schedule.

He passed the time by stepping back into the study and plucking a new book from its perch. When that proved boring he moved onto the desk, smoothing his fingers over the map. He didn’t think it had changed since the last time he’d seen it, but he couldn’t be sure. It smelled of fresh ink shortly after Shaw had left, but it had long since dried now and he wasn’t worried about getting any on his fingers. He didn’t want to think of the crazy assumptions Shaw would come up with if he discovered something like that; he’d probably assume he was writing notes for help or something equally ridiculous. Equally pointless.

Still, he pushed aside Shaw’s paranoia and tried to focus. There were some areas where the layers of ink from Shaw’s tracing made imprints in the map. He was able to outline, vaguely, what he believed to be Westchester. There was nothing distinguishing about it, really, because all the names were crossed out in virtually the same fashion. But he knew where it would lie on the map, and that was enough. He didn’t want to think about it’s eradicated name any more than he had to.

He hadn’t realized until meeting Erik how clever and careful Shaw had been about keeping him in the dark as figuratively as he did literally. From what he could tell, between Raven, Erik, and his brief conversation with Angel, Shaw’s second-in-command was certainly someone important to him. He would have figured Shaw the type to gloat about having someone as feared as Erik in his guard, but he didn’t. He didn’t talk about anyone more than he had to.

There was no way this level of paranoia was inherent; but, just as such, there way no way to really figure out what could have caused it. Shaw would certainly never tell him, and the people who could shed some light on it weren’t going to either. He wasn’t in any position to solve any mysteries.

That didn’t, of course, stop the question, and, as childish as it was, he could blame Shaw for that. Perhaps not for his intrigue, but for the simple fact that he had nothing else to do but wonder to distract himself.

—Chapter 12