MILO.
“As if they would allow me to wear anything else to an event like this.” Milo mused back. Not that anything his sibling said would stop him from doing what he wanted, when it came to fashion he did not argue with an expert. Just like he would not argue artillery with a Warden. “Oh, I can definitely get you in with them. If anything, I’ll give up one of my standing appointments. It’s not like I actually need another suit.” A light chuckle fell from him. It wouldn’t stop him, by any means. Call him spoiled, but he quite enjoyed having someone from the fashion industry in the family. If he could share that perk with an old friend, it was all the better. Especially considering his main expertise was no longer in the cards for Remus. Not a bad thing, quite the opposite. All fun and games until someone gets addicted. Then it becomes a problem and that’s not something he wished on anyone, least of all a friend. Even if it did contradict how his fortune was made. He’d much rather distribute pleasure in small doses to the masses than leave someone with a monkey on their back.
The blonde was quick to shake his head at the mere idea of indoctrination by a band of idiots in skull masks. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely not. Bloody scum, the lot of them.” He scoffed it out with an extra bit of venom. The scowl quickly softened when the next words left the other Seraphim. He wondered if Juno would enter their conversation. Milo had witnessed a lot of death in his thirty odd years on earth. So much that he’d become numb to it, as just another part of business like paperwork. Not that one, that death would stay with him for a long while. He could not begin to imagine what effects it had on War and the Wardens. “While I enjoyed our previous truce, and yes I am well aware I am affiliated with those who broke it, this doesn’t sit well with me. They need to atone for what they did to your family.” He placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze in an attempt to show what comfort he could offer. As if there was anything he could say or do that would ease the pain of that loss. He sincerely wished there was anything he could do and should the opportunity arise, best believe he’d be there to offer his support. Even if it didn’t include the support of Pestilence, in this single instance.
He swallowed the lingering poison of the previous topic with a sip of gin and welcomed a new string of conversation. “Honestly, not as much as you’d think. I did hear about the campaign, of course. But, I’ve been so buried under bullshit, I haven’t had the time to keep up with everyone like I used to.” A shame really, he felt like he used to know so much more of what was happening across rival lines and the city. Now he needed to rely on other sources to stay informed where he could no longer linger in the shadows and listen. It was bound to happen eventually, and that was why they had Dominions and advisors at the end of the day. “From what I have heard, most think it’s a bold move- which it is. I think the rest is just envy. With all the ties you all have, I am sure you’ll do just fine.” His lips twisted into a smile. “Don’t think Pierce is a name that can help in that area but you need some word out to the working class, let me know.” A genuine sense of happiness formed in his features when he heard the confirmation of the family his friend was forming. Perhaps a bit of envy underlying the grin that was followed by a matching gulp from his own glass. “Good. Congratulations, you deserve all of it Rem. I mean that.”
A sigh fell when the question turned to him. “All work and very little play for me. Though Pierce is expanding their reach into South America, through some clients in Mexico. Pest, is Pest and Pinketts are Pinketts. Trying to get the crown a bit less tarnished before I get an ego about it.” A breath of a laugh followed because while he would love to get into the details, that wasn’t possible between them. “Other than that, I’ve been looking into some new business ventures of my own but I haven’t gotten them fully sorted yet. Dad’s been nagging me to settle down with someone, but I think he’s just gettin’ sentimental in his old age.” Milo shook his head and finished his drink at the thought of carrying on the Pierce name. He didn’t even know where to start with that one.
—
They need to atone to what they did to your family. A simple sentence, a sentiment uttered a hundred thousand times by a hundred thousand different mouths across enemy lines. No one outside their ranks would dare defend Death’s actions, no one can justify the recorded and treacherous killing of Juno Warden, all her family’s sins aside. Words like these ring hollow over time, sympathy doing nothing to quell the family’s worries or losses. But when Milo says it, Remus does find comfort; outside of his own family, he is one of the only people Remus still respects. He gives a solemn nod in response, washing down his initial reaction with the cold drink, suddenly thankful that the noise of the party nearly drowns out their voices. “I still can’t believe she’s gone,” he says, stuck reliving crystal clear memories of his little sister in all her grace and sophistication. Mangled with emotions, Remus feels everything from sadness to anger to relief to guilt to grief in each mention of her name. It takes the support of a recently returned wife to keep Remus from turning to old coping habits, powders and pills that will only pull him down further into despair — is this what Milo thinks he wants now? “In a strange way, it’s made Saint and I closer. We’re not at each other’s fuckin’ throats anymore,” he says with forced laughter, knowing Milo was a witness to the youngest Warden’s rise to infamy, and Remus’ jealousy brewing in response.
Two old friends, each a prince in their own right, inheriting their own corners of the empire of London and all the responsibilities that come with it. “Oh trust me, I get it,” he laughs, more genuine this time. If there’s one thing Remus Warden always needs more of, it’s time; stretched between Bellum and War and the campaign and preparing for the birth of their children, Remus hardly has time to play catch up with acquaintances — Milo is, as usual, the exception. “It certainly is a bold move, but then again, that’s why I did it. I’m no politician, which is exactly what the people want. It’s time for some fucking change.” He says it simply, unbothered by all the buzzing press, it’s nothing new to Remus anyway. “Well,” he starts, ever the strategist, “even if you can’t help me, it’s very likely we can help you.” Thoughts of his brother’s new Archangel security plans run through his mind. “If elected, I’ll have industry leverage where it matters.” Pharmaceutical regulations, fixed prices on common medications, things to have a hand stretch into other territories. “Have to work with Parliament to check off the to-do list, of course, but money always fucking talks.”
Able to recognize a fellow man stretched paper-thin, Remus nods in knowing response. “That’s quite far from home,” he murmurs, swirling drink absentmindedly in hand as he considers the logistics of managing business that widespread. “And you’re doing this through proxy, or does this mean you’re traveling these days?” A question asked out of curiosity over his old friend and a desire for intel from Pestilence’s Seraphim. Remus leans closer to his friend, pushing the words carefully out his mouth, though he smirks as he does it. “Do you still think Michaela will give it to you, or will you have to take it for yourself?”
There’s no stopping the laughter that tumbles from Remus’ mouth at the news of the nagging. Parents grow up and want grandchildren, it’s the nature of things — more so when there’s an inheritance at stake, a global empire. “Good luck with that. There’s only one way to stop that from happening. Proposals, weddings, babies, that kind of thing…” Things Gabrielle herself nags her children over, Remus only recently reaping the rewards of a happy soon-to-be grand mère. “You have to admit, there’s something creepy about a middle-aged man living a bachelor’s life.” Not that Milo was there, yet, but it’s true the kind of life they both lead will age them.














