The Fateful Heart

"A guy like this? Hell if I know. Anyone committing treason and interfering with the throne probably wants power. I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted to be king or something."

Brooks scoffed.

"Imagine that. Well, I'm glad he got caught in the act. I just hope he's put behind bars soon."

Evaline thought about his answer. It didn't seem right; James didn't seem to want fame or power. There had to be a deeper answer to her question. Of course, the question she asked was something only James could truly answer. But she was sure Brooks had an idea, even if it may not be the right one. She was curious to know what that might be since this wasn't anything James would be willing to share so easily.

"You said that he's deceptive and that's how he climbed the ranks so fast," she said, staring down at the papers in front of her and angling them so they were all straight and tidy. "What do you mean by that? Do you think it might have been driven by his desire to be in power?"

Evelyn's questions were feeding Brooks's chattiness. The sheriff laughed a little and leaned forward on the table again.

"Well. If you're asking what I think about this whole situation. I'm thinking - he was an orphan, right? Someone had pity on him and got him into school and he starts excelling, probably to prove everyone wrong or something, typical orphan mentality. He gets a taste of what it's like to have power and influence because he's talented, and it's like fuel to the flame. Once you get a little of it - oh, especially for these kids coming from nothing with big aspirations - you just want more. I figure he couldn't get enough. 'Cept, he was smart about it, you see. He went about things the quiet way. Worming up the ranks to get close to the king, you know? And no one would've known! And then at the last minute, he snaps! But it's too soon, and something fell through. Maybe an ally turned on him and ratted him out. Or maybe -- oh, this one's my favorite. What can I say? I'm a sucker for drama--"

A deep sigh could be heard from Jeremy in the background, but it was quickly drowned out by Brooks' babble.

"Some people say he was a little more than friends with the king."

He stared at Evaline for a second before bursting into laughter.

"Oh! I kid, I kid, but honestly. A face like that? Maybe he tried to charm the princess or something. That would also be a smart way to go for the throne. Marrying in, and all. And a lot easier."

He sighed, resting his chin in his palm. "Maybe I should've led with that. I wouldn't know myself, but people say Princess Eliza is quite beautiful. Certainly worth pursuing. 'Course this guy had bad intentions, so, it's good that didn't work out."

Evaline listened to Brooks drone on and on, and she was glad he was rambling and not letting her ask any questions. She'd rather she listened anyways.

She knew the information she was being told may not be accurate. For starters, James wasn't an orphan. He already told her that his sister and mother were alive, and he had no reason to lie about that. But her mind drifted to what he said, weeks ago when they were playing the two truths and a lie game, when he said his family didn't know he was alive. Maybe there was some truth to being an orphan after all. Maybe only he knew his sister and mother were alive. She never had the chance to ask more about it.

But everything else? James did admit to her just last night that he felt like he had to prove he was capable and do things himself. There seemed to be some truth to Brooks's words.

She didn't want to believe everything. She allowed herself to soak in the words with skepticism, constantly telling herself to not let her mind wander since she will verify everything later with James.

But she couldn't easily dismiss him saying that James may have had a close relationship with the king or the princess. It should have been a serious matter, but Evaline had to suppress a laugh. He didn't actually want to be king and marry a princess to do that. Right? That seemed too fictitious, especially for someone like James.

"So you're saying that he was close to Princess Eliza?" she asked, saying the princess's name nonchalantly like she had said it many times before even though this was the first she had heard of her.

"Just so he could get closer to the king? All while being a castle guard?"

She had no idea what she was asking, so she kept it vague. She figured Brooks would run with this lead and continue blabbering his own thoughts.

"Well, you know, no one really quite knows what goes on in the palace. The king is actually quite secretive about what happens behind those doors. There's always a bit of mystery about that place. I mean, we all know he lives there, and he's a benevolent ruler and all, but no one really knows what it's like. You'd think being a palace guard would just mean walking around and guarding doorways and making your rounds around the property, but the king's still a person. I'm sure he makes friends with some of the people who work for him. Or something like that. I don't know how many real friends you can have when you're a king, though. Seems like a lonely position to be in."

Brooks sighed, running his hand through his thinning hair.

"I've heard people say all sorts of things - 'course, there's no way to tell what made-up stories are based in truth - but I heard one gal saying that Tiberius and Eliza were actually together, and when the relationship fell through it went so bad that the king made him a wanted man. But that sounds so needlessly dramatic."

Evaline pursed her lips in thought, staring back at James's empty eyes in the wanted photo. There seemed to be such a dissonance between the James she knew and the James Brooks was talking about, she really could separate them into James and Tiberius.

"It does sound a bit dramatic," she agreed, even though all of it sounded dramatic to her. It seemed that Brooks didn't know about the whole plan of magical child soldiers that James stopped. She wondered if anyone else knew besides James, the people involved, and herself. The king probably spun different lies.

"Do you think there's more to it than treason?" she asked. "Did he commit other crimes besides the attempted assassination of the king?"

"You know, they really don't say. With most criminals, I feel like you get a pretty clear picture, but this guy's still shrouded in mystery. I heard from one person that he did a bunch of war crimes. Hard to believe with him being so young and all, but still. Some of those boys get thrown at the goblins too early, you know. Someone else told me he committed a string of robberies in the palace and never got caught. Someone else told me that--"

Jeremy cut in.

"Brooks."

"--he killed people who found him out in their sleep--"

"Sheriff."

"--And someone else said he actually had a secret identity. And alternate--"

Jeremy cleared his throat very loudly, and that finally got Sheriff Brooks to stop.

Brooks slammed the table with his palm. "Dammit, Jeremy, what is it?"

"The posters. Time is ticking," Jeremy said like a gentle but firm reminder.

Brooks looked a little miffed but sighed, and stood up from his seat. The wooden chair scratched across the floorboards.

"Sorry for talking your ear off, Evelyn. Not a lot of people around here like to listen to me babble on," he said, giving a side-glare to Jeremy, who wasn't looking.

"Anyway. About the posters. I'll have you make three different portraits for now. Age him up just a little in all of them, I think. In that poster he's probably 21, if he's 22 now. I imagine all the strenuous travel has probably made him look a bit more gaunt and tired. Do one with the head shaved, one with a beard, and one with some scruff, like an in-between. Try to keep the face as accurate to that one there, though. I heard that portrait was drawn before he became wanted, so it's pretty dependable. 'S also why he looks more cleaned up I think."

And just like that, the information session was over.

Evaline was a few seconds behind processing everything, but she nodded by the time Brooks instructed that she start the sketches. Same face. Older. More tired. One, shaved head. Two, beard. Three, scruff. She could do this and sneakily incorporate realistic details that would look less like James, but still pass as something that could be him now. She had the advantage of knowing what he looked like now, unlike Brooks.

"Will do," she said, picking up the pencil again and sliding a blank paper closer to her. "This one will take a bit of time, but I'll let you know when I'm done again."

Without a second to waste, she looked down and started sketching. She could practically draw James with her eyes closed, so it wasn't too hard to draw him with different features, especially since his face was the same. Even though Brooks and Jeremy likely wasn't watching her, she had to remind herself to look up to reference the wanted poster every once in a while so that it didn't look like she was drawing from memory, even though she practically was.

She first replicated the same face on all three papers, but she updated the face per Brooks's request. His face shape and and nose stayed the same, but she pursed his lips so that he was scowling, furrowed his brows, and drew his eyes to look weary yet intimidating. She made sure to give him features that indicated he was tired, yet it was something she knew he didn't have: puffy eyes, the beginnings of stress wrinkles under his eyes and lips, hollowed cheeks.

This took a bit of time to replicate three times, but once she did, she let go of the pencil and shook her hand to shake away any incoming cramp, tilting her head and nodding at her work. Good. It was everything Brooks asked, but not anything James was.

Satisfied, she slid the two other papers away and began to work on the one with his head shaven. Brooks didn't specify what hairstyle to give the other two posters, but she intended on keeping it the same as the old poster, but with thinning and lighter hair.

Her pencil continued to fly across the paper as she focused on truly making this her best work yet.

Jeremy went back to worknig quietly, and Brooks continued to amble in and out of his office, and occasionally, in and out of the building - doing errands, talking to folks, and who knew what else. Time passed as Evelyn became engrossed in her task, and eventually, the sheriff came walking back in through the front door, walking over to Jeremy and dropping a few papers on his desk.

"These are for you," he said quietly. "She still working at it?"

Jeremy nodded. "Seems so."

As the sheriff turned to walk over and check on Evelyn's work, the front door opened again, and this time the figure that entered took up the entire doorway.

The man ducked to enter and his head almost scraped the ceiling. He was broad and large, built like a hulking tree. He had fair but weathered skin and long red hair pulled into a thick bun at the back of his head. His jaw was square, which was further emphasized by his underbite and big, darkening sideburns that marked his jawline. He looked like he had something of a grin on his face, but closer inspection said that was probably just how his mouth rested most of the time.

Coming in behind like a much less impressive shadow was another man who would've been considered quite tall if he wasn't next to the tree. He had light brown skin and straight black hair that almost reached his shoulders and a neutral look to his face that left no sort of lasting impression.

"Ey, Sheriff Brooks, is it?" the giant man asked.

Brooks turned around, his head tilting back to look up at the tall, tall man.

"Ah. Butch. Haven't seen you around these parts in a long while," Brooks greeted. "What brings you here."

"Well--" Butch's eyes scanned the room, and landed on the drawing on the table. The one Evelyn finished, and the older, outdated poster. He chuckled deeply.

"What a coincidence."

"Tiberius?" Brooks asked.

"He was last seen in Riverside. I lost track of him 'bout a week ago. But I think we're getting pretty close," Butch said. He stopped behind Evelyn and looked over her shoulder, leaning over and setting a hand on the table.

"Hmm... something's off," he muttered. The man who'd come in with him came around the other side of the table to look, leaning over the other side of Evelyn.

"He should look angrier," Reed said.

"I think he looks a little too sickly, actually," Butch commented.

Brooks joined the two men at their sides to observe.

"Riverside, you said?" Brooks inquired.

Evaline was back at full concentration, drowning away any background noise so she could fully focus on the drawing at hand. Even though this was an easier task than the last one, she felt like she had to focus extra hard to not mess this one up. She couldn't mess this one up.

She finished the drawing of James with a shaved head and moved on to the next one: James with a bushy beard, with longer but thinner hair on his head, and in the same style. She just barely started when a familiar voice was heard in the room, and for some reason that voice struck a deep fear in her body.

But she refused to let it break her concentration as she continued to quickly draw line after line, replicating the image that was clear in her mind. But a little part of her was screaming at her to look up because she felt it in her bones that something was wrong.

And then she heard Brooks say Butch. Butch.

Evaline found herself applying so much pressure on the pencil, the tip snapped off.

The image of James in her mind disappeared as every thought came to a screeching halt. She had been referencing the endless lessons of leadership, conflict resolution, and public speaking to keep her head high and tackle the challenge of entering this town by herself, and even though she disliked having to calmly bounce conversation to Brooks about a sensitive topic she wanted to scream and know more about, she was glad she was taught to handle some things in a proper and gentle manner. She had mentally prepared herself to handle any situation that came her way, and if she wasn't, she could adapt and think quick on her feet without letting others see weakness.

But those skills washed away. She couldn't adapt now. She couldn't handle this situation. This was too personal. She couldn't disassociate herself.

She was barely able to handle having to draw James as the new reference for his poster. But now, Butch was in here too. Butch. While she drew James.

Did he...

No. He didn't. He couldn't have. That was erased.

Why...

He was looking for James. No. James was nearby. She had to leave. She had to warn him. But she couldn't. Not now. She was...

Oh no.

She found herself staring at him, wide-eyed and in shock, going pale.

Quick. Quick. She had to think. She had to stop being so nervous. She couldn't reveal herself.

But that was easier said than done.

She finally looked back ahead and dropped the broken pencil on the table, moving her hands under the table so no one could see that she had began to shake. Deep breath in, deep breath out...

The three of them were surrounding her, and it felt suffocating. Butch's giant hand was leaning on the table, and he was so close, he could touch him if she wanted. She felt her heart thump loudly against her chest.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

It was hard to concentrate when they were talking about Riverside, the town they were in last when she went back in time and made sure he never caught up to them. It was even harder to concentrate when they were casually talking about James, right there in front of her, while she was drawing him.

"I can make those changes," she said quietly and slowly, doing her best to make sure her voice didn't come out shaky. She stared at the paper in front of her, feeling her hands clam up. She wasn't sure she would be able to face Butch or Reed again, especially since she had just stared at him wide-eyed.

"Could I..." she began, but her voice sounded hoarse. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Could I get another pencil?"

"You don't handle critiques too well, do you, hon," Reed mumbled near her ear.

Meanwhile, Brooks snapped his fingers to get Jeremy to do the pencil fetching. Jeremy ambled over with a new pencil, who handed it to Brooks, and Brooks set it on the table before taking a small step back and looking at the posters from afar.

"When did you see him last?" Brooks asked.

Reed looked from Evelyn to Butch, noting her pale-faced stare.

"...bout a month ago," Reed said, trying to meet Butch's eyes.

But Butch was meeting Evelyn's stare. He broke it to look down at the drawing again, and reached in front of her to point at it.

"He doesn't look that tired," Butch said quietly to Evelyn. "Yet."

Butch took his weight off the table but stayed near Evelyn. "You don't look too good sweet cheeks," Butch muttered, before looking back up at Brooks. "Yeah, we saw him. He's got a bit of a beard now. Short hair still, but not quite like that-" he pointed at Evelyn's picture. "It's a thicker n' that."

Brooks nodded. "Evelyn, you think you could make those changes?"

Reed's mumbled words in her ear made Evaline's skin crawl. She felt a shiver down her spine remembering what they did to her and James in the timeline that didn't happen. They weren't aggressive now, but only because they didn't know about her relationship with James.

They didn't know. They didn't know. They didn't know.

She didn't have to be so nervous.

Why was it so hard to convince herself of this?

She made sure to keep her eyes glued ahead of her, not wanting to give a second glance at either of them. She knew that, if she did, she would lose progress on her composure.

After taking a few more silent breaths in and out, she reached for the new pencil with her shaking under control. She could do this. She could take back the situation.

Evaline tried not to let the anxiety worsen as Butch started to point at all the things that weren't accurate in the picture. He knew. He knew what James looked like. He found him about a month ago, but Evaline also found him a month ago. That must mean...

No time to think on things. She had to concentrate, but not on the drawing now. She had to concentrate to make herself look more normal now.

"Of course," she said with a fake sense of confidence, gathering up the little courage she had to face this situation head-on now, even though she still couldn't make eye contact with them. "Sorry if I'm a little frazzled. Didn't get much sleep last night. And I'm not used to critique."

The last part wasn't true, but she decided to go with Reed's words. It was easier that way.

Butch hummed and put his hands in his pockets, leaning back on his heels.

"It's not your fault you haven't seen the man," Butch said, watching her carefully.

"He still looks a lot like that first picture, really," Butch said. "Maybe a little scar or two on his temple, but nothing disfiguring."

Butch and Reed exchanged a quick glance at that, barely perceptible, and Brooks missed it entirely.

"I'd just make him look a tad thinner," Butch said. "And short hair - short on the sides and just a little longer on top, but not like that other picture. Like, actually short. An inch or something."

"Sounds like you got a good look at him," Brooks, commented.

Reed looked over to Brooks with a sigh. "Well--"

"He's a pretty determined criminal, sheriff," Butch interrupted. "And, while I'm sure the kingdom appreciates the updated posters and all, we do intend to catch him soon. So maybe don't make too many copies. Wouldn't want you wasting your time with that."

Brooks huffed. "Well, I don't doubt your abilities, Butch, if that's what you mean."

Butch stood up a little taller (if that was even possible) and grinned. "Neither do I, sheriff."

At that moment, conversation between the men started to split. Butch and Brooks started talking about the last few criminals Butch put away, and Reed drew closer to Evelyn again, putting his hand on the back of her chair and leaning in a bit to watch her work.

"So, Evelyn, right?" Reed asked.

Evaline positioned the pencil in her hand so she was ready to draw, but it was hard to focus when the others were surrounding her. She silently stood still, listening and trying to look like it didn't affect her. It was hard to, especially since Butch pointed out all the things she purposely drew so that James would be harder to spot. She now had to make it more accurate, but still in a way that didn't completely reflect James.

Her head was hurting.

Why couldn't they come in when she was drawing Perona? Or when she already finished James? This was too much of a coincidence, and it played like a sick joke that the universe enjoyed teasing her with.

She was glad that Butch pulled away to talk to Brooks, but she could feel Reed applying pressure on the back of her chair as he stood over her, attempting to start a conversation.

Evaline was used to others seeing her art, but only after she was finished. It was uncomfortable having someone observe her while she worked, and even more uncomfortable if that someone had almost killed in her in an alternate timeline.

She tried anyways, doing her best to concentrate to make his hair thicker, but shorter. She found her strokes being weaker and less confident, and even slightly shaky. She hoped Reed didn't notice.

"That's me," she said flatly, eyes furrowed at her pencil slowly moving across the paper. At least she could use drawing as an excuse to not look up at them again.

Reed hummed softly, and shifted his focus from the drawing to Evaline.

"So, where you from?"