Maybe it’s the way the members drone in pompous tones about issues that rarely hold value. Maybe it’s the way the members take ages to decide the proper course of action, when in reality it should only take them a few days. Or maybe it’s just because the meetings always seemed to happen when Logan was doing something he enjoyed, therefore taking away the precious moments he had to himself, which were few and far between these days.

Whatever the reason, Logan can feel his attention slipping as two of the council members begin an argument about taxes and the possibilities of raising them. It’s been the same argument all week; although this time the two decided to add insulting each other into the mix.

Logan can feel the disgust curling up in his stomach. He clenches his fist, and tries his best not to scowl outwardly because these people are supposed to be professionals. Yet here they are arguing like children. No wonder nothing ever gets done around here; everyone is too busy focusing on their own petty differences to make any significant changes.

Pushing himself to his feet, Logan storms out of the room and leaves the council to argue among themselves. Once he’s outside the doors, he leans against the wall and tries to bring his emotions under control. He needs to think clearly, and his emotions are only clouding his thoughts. He breathes out slowly and forces himself to relax.

“Wow.” A voice next to him says, sounding amused. “You lasted forty minutes in there. That’s got to be a new record or something.”

Logan has long gotten used to Joan’s habit of popping up out of nowhere, so this new appearance does little to phase him. Instead he turns towards his aide standing beside him and raises an eyebrow. “Only forty? I could have sworn it was longer.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Joan says, falling into step alongside of Logan. They head down the hall and away from the muffled voices of the council room. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

Logan snorts, catching the sarcasm in their voice. Joan grins widely at Logan’s slip in composure, and Logan has to resist the urge to blame the council for his lapse in control. Instead, he rolls his shoulders back and asks, “Where to now?”  Because even he can’t keep his schedule straight in his head; not when there is so much to do and so much is changed at least five times a day.

“It’s one in the afternoon.” Joan says in reply, not answering Logan’s question at all.

That means that whatever is on Logan’s schedule next is something he should remember, and is probably something he’s been looking forward to. He furrows his brow and tries to think.

It hits him a few moments later, as they’re walking down the hall that eventually makes its way to the back of the castle. “Oh!” He says a bit too loudly, drawing the attention of a maid who happens to be hurrying past. He flashes her his smile usually reserved for the reporters before lowering his voice and addressing Joan. “I nearly forgot. I guess I really do need a break.”

“The great Logan forgetting something? Looks like it’s the beginning of the end.” Joan says with a faux expression of pity. “Best get your affairs in order because it’s all downhill from here.”

This time Logan manages to school his expression into something more neutral, although his lip twitches and betrays his amusement.

The pair follows the hallway until they stop in front of a rather plain door. It’s nothing special, just wood with a simple design carved into it. It’s rather out of the way from the other places in the castle, in a region that’s only really used by servants. Which makes it the ideal location for Logan and Joan.

Logan knocks on the door while Joan keeps an eye out for anybody who might happen to walk by. There is a slight pause before the door is swung open by a women with long brown hair and sparkling eyes.

She’s happy to see them, if not impatient. “It’s about time!” She huffs, dragging both Logan and Joan into the room and closing the door firmly behind them. “I was beginning to think the two of you would never show up!”

It is quite possible that Valerie Torres is an actual goddess.

She had worked in the palace as the head seamstress for many years, and had been with Logan for a good number of them. She was kind, hardworking and a rather good listener. Logan had spent so much time with her - what with all the suits and fittings he needed for the meetings and parties and interviews he needed to attend - that she quickly became one of the few people Logan actually trusted.

And when Logan had approached her with a half formed plan to gain some freedom, she had immediately offered her help.

Now she shoves a bundle of clothes into Logan’s arms and instructs him to change into them. He takes them and dutifully walks to the small corner of the room that’s sectioned off by a hanging sheet to change. He quickly swaps out his lavish clothes for the more ordinary polo shirt and jeans. He finishes adjusting his tie around his neck (an accessory he insisted on despite of Valerie's protests, because he is a serious person and serious people wear neckties) and steps back into the main section of the room where Joan and Valerie are waiting.

He stretches out his arms. “Well?” He asks. “How do I look?”

“Completely ordinary.” Joan drawls from where they are lounging on a chair.

Valerie frowns, walks over and musses up his hair out of it’s carefully styled position into a more casual and relaxed style. It’s not a complete change, but Logan knows from past experience that it’s enough of a change that people will need a second look to identify him. And the time it takes them to take a second look is just the amount of time he needs to slip away.

“There you go.” Valerie says, content with her work. She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want Joan come? I’d feel a lot better if they were with you.”

Logan rolls his eyes. Every time he goes out of the castle it’s the same song and dance. He’s had this exact conversation with Valerie many times, and each time it goes the same way. He doesn’t understand why Valerie expects his answer to change.

“I just want an hour to myself.” He says, frustration creeping into his voice. “I understand your concerns, but I’ve been doing this for so long now that the odds of something going wrong are infinitesimal.”

Valerie frowns because it’s not the answer she wants to hear, but there’s really nothing she can do to stop him. “Fine. Be careful.”

“You know me.” Logan says with another one of his faked smiles. “I’m always careful.”

The afternoon rush was in full swing, but Logan doesn’t mind the way people are swarming around him and pushing to get to where they want to go. He lets the flow of traffic push him along with the crowd,  not caring where he ends up.

It’s a nice sort of feeling, just wandering around and not worrying about where he has to be.

He’s visited this part of the city so many times that he could probably walk it blindfolded. As he rounds a corner in the crowd, he spies a small bookshop that’s a favorite of his. It looks rather empty, but Logan can’t remember a time when it had actually been full. It’s always half empty like this, which Logan likes because it means the store is quiet enough for him to focus on whatever he happens to be reading.

With his eyes locked onto the store’s sign Logan starts towards the store, not paying attention to where he’s actually walking.

Logan immediately regrets this decision as he proceeds to run headfirst into someone. It’s a painful collision, and Logan falls back onto the ground with a grunt. His glasses had fallen off in the process, and the world around him has melted into a blur of color and movement. He reaches around him, trying to find his glasses so he could see what was going on.

Someone is standing over him, and even though Logan can’t see a foot in front of his face, he assumes that this is the person he ran into because a steady stream of apologies is being directed at him.

“-wasn’t looking where I was going, are you okay?” A hand grabs his and hauls Logan to his feet. Logan was not ready for the sudden change of position and he wobbles slightly before regaining his balance.  

Logan tries to assure the person that he’s fine, but he can’t get a word in edgewise as the person babbles on. “You don’t look hurt, that’s good. I swear I didn’t mean to run into you, I was just in a hurry and you just sort of appeared and I-”

The voice cuts off for a reason Logan isn’t exactly sure of and he takes the opportunity to say, “I’m fine, thank you. I just need my glasses. You wouldn’t happen to see them lying around, would you? I’m afraid I can’t see anything.”

His glasses are shoved into his hand rather roughly and he pushes them onto his nose, feeling the tension that had been building up in his shoulders relax as soon as he was able to see. He looks at the person in front of him and the first thing he notices is the person’s expression.

He’s looking at Logan in shock and alarm. For a moment Logan doesn’t understand what could possibly be so worrying to this boy (who on a second glance looked around Logan’s age). Then he sees what the boy sees and his jaw drops.

The boy looks exactly like him.