~CHAPTER ONE~



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“Good to know you think so kindly of me, brother.” Lady Moustache countered. He glided his way to the heart of the study where Mr. Capgras and his guest were seated. The stranger on the prohibitive Parisian couch while Mr. Capgras prim-ly sat in his leather armchair.

“Good morning, Lady Moustache.” the foreign stranger said, standing up to greet him while Mr. Capgras stayed seated. They shook hands, Lady Moustache with a rather limp wrist and the stranger with an uncomfortably tight and rigid grip.

“So, what is an American doing in Monaco?” Urged Lady Moustache, more so to his brother than the American in question.

“This is that oversea friend that father was telling us about earlier, little brother.” Mr. Capgras said. Seeming like he wants to say more, but is unable.

“Yes, your father had called for me. Coincidentally, it was while I was visiting Nice. He wanted a consultation.” The stranger said with a pride to him. The brothers inquisitively peek at each other, before returning their attention to him.

They knew this was no coincidence.
“I’m a lawyer.” he told them in a real and serious tone. The brothers found this rather strange and wondered if their concern was pertinent.

Lady Moustache nodded, looking at him as he joined the lawyer on the couch opposite Mr. Capgras. The main study was a needlessly large room, but it wasn’t the biggest room in the manor. The massive dark oak bookshelves ran almost higher than the ceiling. The books looked as if they were about to burst from their shelves.

Albeit, the air wasn’t musty but the room still had a film of dust floating aimlessly that only the light coming through the windows is able to reveal. The uncurtained panes loomed perfectly behind Mr. Capgras, giving him an enigmatic silhouette as he sat still as a picture.

The stranger on the other hand was facing the windows, and heavily looked to be struggling to see anything at all.

“Is there a name, or a pseudonym that you go by?” Lady Moustache wondered. He gently rested one arm on the armrest and the other on his cane, his right leg now crossed over the other.

The man looked between the brothers.
Mr. Capgras filled the silence. “I hadn’t introduced you as anything, as I myself had never gotten an introduction.”

The lawyer almost looked embarrassed. “I apologize, I thought I had… I don’t have a pseudonym, but you can call me Anthony.” he said with a smile, hoping he hadn’t already made a bad impression.

He squirmed in his seat as the two brothers sat in silence, impassively staring blank faced for an uncomfortable and inhumane amount of time to Anthony. Unknown to him, this is a show of dominance that their father has instilled in them seemingly since before they could walk. As if to answer Anthony’s prayers, Lady Moustache finally spoke again.

“So Anthony, is your visit purely social, or are you here for business? I -presume- you’re here to see our father this morning.”

Lady Moustache would usually be making eye contact as he speaks, but he found his cane to be more interesting. He spun it around a couple of times before looking at his brother.

His brother didn’t look back, Mr. Capgras kept his eyes on Anthony.

“Like I’ve told Anthony, our father has been out since last night. He has yet to return.” Mr. Capgras said to no one in particular, both men were already well aware of this fact.

“Well, your father had arranged to meet me this morning, he had said it was about a rather urgent subject. It’s a matter of ‘maintaining my family’s inheritance and livelihood’… or so he stated.” Claimed Anthony with a rather serious look and tone to him, one that Mr. Capgras has deduced to be the reason their father would even consider consulting with Anthony. When it comes down to it, Anthony is a damned good lawyer. The man *knows his onions. This is something Mr. Capgras will grow to observe and just about- respect.

Anthony, being a lanky man, has an awkward look to him. Mostly for his thick moustache and his dark bug-like eyes, but his baggy and untailored tartan suit didn’t help his case much. He looked at his wristwatch out of nervous habit, but good thing he did. He realized he’s close to running late.

“It was nice talking to you Mr. Capgras, and your brother too, but I’ve another meeting I need to get to. Do tell your father to give me a call, I would like to meet with him sometime soon.” Anthony stood up and made his way to the door.

“He knows how to reach me.”

Cherry, the family’s beloved butler, waited there holding his well worn derby and unseasonable pea coat. Cherry, a man well into his fifties, had a sweet but dignified look to him. He wore glasses that pinched his nose and always stayed clean shaven. His hair was long and neatly pulled into a low ponytail tied loosely with a ribbon. His hair was mostly grey but still held the reminiscence of his natural red hair; hence his nickname.

“Thank you-” Anthony’s voice coasted as he rushed out the door, nearly forgetting to grab the belongings that he was thanking Cherry for bringing him.

*creak-* *slam!*

“Well then…”

Mr. Capgras looked to his brother, expecting him to finish this thought. He watched as Lady Moustache itched at his head, pretending to look dense. Lady Moustache just loved to annoy his brother.

“What was that all about?” Lady Moustache finally asked, now mimicking the way his brother is steep-ling his hands. He raises his eyebrows attempting to irk him. Mr. Capgras, unmoved by this, kept his displeased expression.

“Obviously, brother,” Mr. Capgras stated as he looked down at him. Lady Moustache was already bothered by this because he knows his brother only does this when he thinks he’s being the smartest ass in the room.

“The meeting could only be about our father’s will. Why else would our father hire a lower class lawyer like Anthony. I wouldn’t have expected you to infer that though.” he stated with the slightest smirk in the corner of his lips. Mr. Capgras gave an aggravated sigh and waved rudely to excuse Cherry. Cherry politely obliged, he was accustomed to this unkindness shown by most of the family.

“Well since you’re so smart, Mr. Capgras, I suppose you can tell me WHAT our father would -specifically- want with an American lawyer.” Lady Moustache asked knowing damn well his brother didn’t know how to answer this.

Mr. Capgras sat for a moment. pursing his lips, he looked to the bookshelves at the far end of the room. He appeared to be looking for an answer hidden in between the shelves.

He finally answered. “That I wasn’t quite able to figure out.” he sourly admitted. He continued.

“I don’t suppose it would be a good idea for you to question him on it, he’d only think you’re ‘talking back’. It’d Make him go ballistic. ESPECIALLY considering he’s been out all night; only the GOD’S know where he’s been.” Mr. Capgras appeared rather annoyed by their father’s behaviour.

For a moment, Lady Moustache would almost think Mr. Capgras was concerned for his safety. -If- he believed his brother had a heart.

Mr. Capgras droned on about his grievances with their father. Normally, Lady Moustache would be complaining alongside him. The two of them could bitch for hours about him, but Lady Moustache’s thoughts were elsewhere this morning.

Lady Moustache often thinks about just how different him and his brother are. Not just in temperament, but in appearance as well. Mr. Capgras’s hair is blonde and he always styles it greased back tightly. It’s just gotten long enough to reach the back of his neck. His features are sharp, and you will never see him with facial hair. His eyes are as bright as honey in the sunlight, but still manage to pierce your soul with a coldness only business men seem to have. His brother looks exactly like their mother, or so he’s been told.

Lady Moustache on the other hand, Has dark brown almost auburn hair. Hair that flowed in nice waves. Water-falling down his forehead, his bangs just nearly reached his mascaraed eyelashes. His eyes are green like the back of an American dollar. And if his name didn’t give it away, he always sported a pencil moustache. One he paired along with a goatee and a small patch on his chin. He looked eerily like his father when he was young.

He hates the momentary realisation of this.

“Anyway, I haven’t the slightest what father would want with an American lawyer.” he rolled his eyes and shook his head, resting his chin on a fist.

Having missed most of what his brother was carping on about, Lady Moustache was dragged back into the conversation.

“Yes, yes. On another note, you ARE coming to King Richie’s party tonight… right?” Lady Moustache insisted. He raised an eyebrow, knowing his brother has a tendency to not keep his social promises.
“I’ll see.” Mr. Capgras sighed as he looked away.

“OH come on! You promised me. You PROMISED you’d be there!” he begged with a pouting smile, fluttering his eyelashes in an unbearably obnoxious manner.

“All right, all right. I’ll be there. We might have to take the same car anyway if mine’s still in the shop.”

“Well I look forward to it, brother mine~.” Lady Moustache said, slowly rising to his feet.

“You are alone in that sentiment.”



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*to “know your onions”: be really knowledgeable on a subject, really know what you’re talking about

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Lady Moustache hobbled his way down the steps of the front entryway, a cool breeze hitting his face refreshingly. It’s a beautiful 22 degrees and the sun shines bright and warm.

The nightingales just out of sight, serenaded the gardeners with their dreamy but unfamiliar song. His driver was already waiting by the car for him. He stood holding the passenger door open for him, the front seat was already put down.

The cobble parkway wrapped beautifully around a fountain with an angel infinitely pouring water from a pitcher. Gardens and shrubs surrounded the house, abundantly colourful and vibrant.

Trees lined the outside of the large stone walls topped with Gothic iron gating. This surrounded the entire property. This house would feel even more so like a prison, to Lady Moustache, if it weren’t for the beautiful landscape the manor sat on. He reminds himself to thank the hard working landscapers whenever he can.

“Bonjour, Lady Moustache!” the driver said with a smile, and a thick but endearing accent.

“Good morning Eric.” Lady Moustache responded in a sultry voice. One he knew was terribly hard to resist.

“I see you’re practising your English again today,” Eric said, looking him up and down as Lady Moustache made his way over to him.

“You know I’m not very good with English.” Eric stated.

“Precisely why I always practise with you, darling.” He replied, peaking a finger playfully in the air. Hr tilted his head and gave a cheeky smile.

Lady Moustache didn’t know or care about Eric as a person, outside of him being an excellent driver. Despite this, he can’t help but respectfully gaze. Eric has a gorgeous caramel-esque complexion and just recently styled his hair in cornrows. He has a strong build, especially so in comparison to himself. Lady Moustache is an incredibly flirtatious person. Eric has good looks and Lady Moustache likes what he sees.

After some playful back and forth, Eric and Lady Moustache make their way to the heart of Monaco. Today is King Richie’s birthday, and the gift he ordered a month back had finally arrived at his favourite shop. Lady Moustache just knew that King Richie was going to adore his present.

After what seems like an incredibly long but beautifully scenic drive, they start to see the breathtaking architecture of the inner city. In a bustling city as jam-packed as Monaco, it’s only expected that there would be quite a bit of traffic. Despite Eric’s best efforts, they find themselves caught in quite a long line of cars.

“Oh goodness! How many bloody cars are caught in this- bloody traffic?” Lady Moustache wondered, not actually as annoyed as he sounded.

“You’re guess is as good as mine.” Eric shrugged as he propped his head up. He rested his arm on the door of the car while still keeping his left hand on the wheel. They both knew the traffic didn’t actually bother them as much as they would both pretend. There was always traffic, it’s Monaco for fuck’s sake.

Lady Moustache sat splayed in the back seat for a moment, trying to study the back of Eric’s head. Eric never sits in such a manner, he always takes his job very seriously. Lady Moustache jolted forward and leaned over the seat to make eye contact with him. Eric tensed up at this sudden spring.

“Something’s on your mind, I can tell.” Lady Moustache insisted. He crossed his arms on the seat in front of him while his knees rested on his own. His chin perched on his shoulder.

“Tell me…” he whispered after a moment, hoping to entice the truth.

Eric looked ahead for a moment and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, considering his options. Eventually he looked back to Lady Moustache, who still kept that sweet and genuine smile on his face. One that Eric found rather bittersweet for receiving.

“Well, how do I put this…” Eric began. The traffic trudged forward in the slightest, the car was only able to move about a foot forward. Lady Moustache sat back down again but still leaned forward, attentive as ever.

“I drove your father and your aunt last night.” He admitted, causing Lady Moustache’s jaw to drop only in the slightest.

“I drove them around… nowhere in particular at first. Then they got in a terrible argument and I dropped Miss Moonshine off at the manor. I drove your father to a place I’d rather not say the name of.” Eric held a serious expression saying this. One that Lady Moustache also shared. He already had an idea of where his father was spending his free time.

“Well then, what was dear auntie Moonshine and my father arguing over? Were you able to catch any of it?” He inquired.

The traffic was finally beginning to let up and the two men were on their way to Les Riches Chanceux, a popular men’s boutique. As Eric began driving again, Lady Moustache was afraid he lost his chance to finally get some answers.

“They were talking of you. Then of Miss Moonshine’s drinking habit. That’s when she left the car. I wasn’t able to catch all of it because they spoke in English, but because you’d been teaching me, I think I got the most of it.” Eric kept his eyes on the road, occasionally glancing through the rear view mirror as he talked.

Lady Moustache nodded and sat back. He watched as Eric drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel, this was something he often does. Eric cleared his throat and continued.

“I only tell you this part because I care about your safety. They were discussing ‘habits’ that you have. These ‘habits’ are, in your father’s words, unnatural and disgusting. Lady moustache, are you doing something dangerous?”

Lady Moustache sat for a second irked by this information. He found Eric’s purity cute.

“Of course I’m not doing anything dangerous… besides the occasional liquor and opium.” Lady Moustache flapped his hand one swift time to dismiss his regard.

“But that I know is of no concern to him. Why Eric, what he’s concerned about involves you. I just pray to the God’s he hasn’t actually caught on.” Lady Moustache answered plainly, adjusting himself in his seat. Then, his collar.

“OH. I would sure hope not then, I don’t think I could afford to lose this job, let alone you.” He grew scared at the thought.

Lady Moustache squirmed in his seat, he really hoped Eric didn’t actually LIKE him. It would make things a hell of a lot easier if it does end up going south. And besides, he himself wasn’t one to get too attached to boys. He didn’t want to make that mistake again.

The two men sat in silence until they reached the boutique where Lady Moustache promised he would only take a second.

“I know exactly what I’m going to get him! I’ll be right out.” Lady Moustache entered the illustrious shop. Although he wasn’t literally as quick as he had promised, he didn’t take as long as he would on any normal shopping trip.

He left with a sizable black box neatly tied with a big silky green bow. They made their trip back to the manor in complete silence.

The drive back always seemed to go by faster than the drive there.



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© ST.Mortenson