“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart: I am, I am, I am.” — Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  ???

  The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the windows, with the heavy curtains drawn shut, also being the only source of light within the king’s study.

  Hamilton Nightray stood before the desk, his arms folded, eyeing King Edric with an expression that the king was all too familiar with since they were boys. The look that told him that Hamilton would not be brushed aside any longer.

  “Your Majesty, forgive my boldness, but this cannot continue,” Hamilton said, a deep frown on his face. “Your treatment of Prince Lucien is not just driving a wedge between you and him every single day. It’s also changing how the rest of the Imperial Palace sees you, especially the soldiers and the Crownsguards. The Crown Prince is acting out because he feels unwanted. That is why he keeps running off to Evershade all the time. At least there, the people see him and don’t ignore him.”

  Edric scowled and placed the report he had been reading onto his desk. “He can read minds! He sees through people. It’s unnatural!”

  “With all due respect,” Hamilton said evenly, though even he knew that it’s more than likely a lost cause at this point. Edric had made up his mind, and he’s not changing it. “It’s not uncommon for people in Alathia to possess some manner of ability or gift, especially those amongst the Ten Great Houses. Magic might not exist in Alathia anymore, if it ever did, but gifts have always existed in some form. Heiress D’Aragon has the gift of foresight, and you don’t consider that unnatural when Lord and Lady D’Aragon announced it. So why is it different when it comes to your son?”

  “Because he is different,” Edric snapped. “He was born wrong. Even as a baby, he looked at me like he knew something. Like he was judging me. He’s not like me at all. He’s more like…” He hesitated, unable to speak the words.

  Hamilton’s eyes narrowed. “Like your late father, His Majesty, King Alastair? Or your late brother, the rightful Crown Prince, if not for his frail health?”

  Edric paled, and Hamilton knew he had hit the nail on the head.

  Most people no longer remember that Edric once had an older brother. Brilliant, gentle, but too frail to live past childhood. The rightful Crown Prince. The rightful heir. The late king, King Alastair was so proud of him and had adored him. And even though he had never voiced it aloud, Hamilton had always believed that the late king would have chosen his firstborn over Edric in a heartbeat.

  Edric, by contrast, had always been more impulsive by nature. He’s louder, more prone to acting before thinking, and even easier to manipulate. There was a reason that King Alastair had surrounded his younger son with advisors and guardians he trusted to guide him before illness had claimed him, as it had claimed the late queen months earlier.

  And even whilst bedridden and too frail to move or walk, the late Crown Prince had a brilliant mind and was highly intelligent. Even as children, Hamilton had always felt that Edric had an inferiority complex towards his older brother.

  “…If I didn’t know better, I would really believe he’s Eugene, come back from the grave to haunt me,” Edric whispered, threading his fingers through his hair. “Lucien is so much like him. And even my father. Just as ruthless. As sharp. And…”

  “As intelligent?” Hamilton finished the sentence, and Edric flinched. “Even after all these years, you still had that inferiority complex towards Eugene, Goddess keep his soul.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “How could I not?!” Edric burst out, rising to his feet and slamming both hands onto the desk. “Eugene, he’s…” He struggled to find his words. “He’s everything that a king should have been. Even I knew that when we were boys. He’s so smart, and so ruthless, able to think ten steps ahead of everyone else… Father… He was so proud of Eugene. Said he’d make a great king. And me? I might as well be invisible when Eugene is in the room. And then, he got sick.” Edric swallowed nervously, his expression pained. “I love my brother. I really did. But there is a part of me that was relieved when he got sick, and Father was forced to name me Crown Prince. As it meant…”

  “The king would finally look at you,” Hamilton finished, knowing the way Edric’s mind works.

  Edric let out a bitter laugh. “Hamilton, you and I both know you were never meant to be my guardian. You were Eugene’s,” he snapped. “But then he got sick, and the doctors all said he wouldn’t live past his ninth birthday. It’s only then when you became my guardian. Do you know how it felt to be constantly playing second fiddle to your brother, even after he’s long dead? Every time I got in trouble with Father, whether it’s because I was out in the taverns, or saying something I shouldn’t in Parliament… Somehow, I just knew that Father wished Eugene was still alive, and that I was the one who died!”

  “His Majesty would never wish that,” Hamilton said severely.

  Edric let out a bitter laugh. “Of course you’ll say that,” he muttered, falling back into his plush chair. “Lucien… He is so much like Eugene… Even Father… Change the hair and eye colour, and you’d think he was Eugene. I can’t help it, all right? At first, it was because I was terrified when Lucien was old enough to string sentences together, the first thing he said to me was what I thought all my life: that I can never measure up to Eugene.” He exhaled shakily. “And then, the more I look at him, the more I’m reminded of my brother. Like a ghost. Like he’s a constant reminder of how I was never the first choice. That I was never meant to be king. At least Remington looks more like Lysandra, even if his face resembles Lucien’s, too. But…”

  Hamilton’s jaw tightened. “Prince Lucien is a child, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice colder now. “Even if he reminds you of King Alastair or Prince Eugene, it doesn’t change the fact that he is not them. He never even met them! He’s your son! A lonely boy, treated like a threat in his own home. That’s why he’s constantly running to Evershade. At least there, the people welcome him, even before he got his gift under control! And can you blame him when my daughter is his only friend—”

  “Hamilton,” Edric’s eyes narrowed. “Stay out of how I discipline my son.”

  Hamilton’s eyes hardened. “And yet, you listen to Minister Varence more than you listen to me and Lord Esmund, your military advisor and royal advisor? Do you even consider me your best friend anymore?”

  Edric paled, but he said nothing.

  Hamilton drew in a slow breath. “Fine, I won’t touch on that any longer. Let me address you not as your friend, but as your military advisor. Let’s talk about Nuvelle.” Edric turned his attention towards Hamilton, the tension between both of them almost visible. “Your harsh treatment of the Nuvelle Empire, when they’ve been our steadfast ally for generations, ever since the time of your grandfather, is reckless! You and I both know Nuvelle ended the long years of friendship and alliance that we’ve enjoyed because of you and your decisions. And not just Nuvelle, but also Solyara, and all our other allies. You’ve turned away from every ally we’ve ever had! And now, you refuse to aid Nuvelle after the drought they had. Even if we’re not allies anymore…” Hamilton took in a deep breath. “Their people are starving and dying, Edric! Our grain stores are full, and yet you denied them aid, even though not just myself, but Lord Esmund, and all the other heads of the Great Houses were urging you to send aid!”

  “Why should I render aid when they’re neither friend nor ally to us?” Edric growled. “They ended the alliance, not me. So did Solyara. I am not obliged to help them. Their poor farming is not my problem. And neither is it my problem that their people are starving. Maybe they’ll learn to manage their fields better next year.”

  Hamilton’s expression hardened. “We’ve had peace for generations, Edric,” he said, his voice low but hard. “Under your father and even your grandfather, Alathia forged bonds, and had enjoyed peace for generations, never knowing or seeing war. Trade flourished. Borders were open. There was mutual respect and stability. Yet the moment you took the throne, you severed those alliances with your arrogance and shortsightedness. Are you trying to burn your family’s legacy? For Alathia to be known as the kingdom that is cruel to their neighbours?”

  “My father was weak,” Edric growled.

  “No,” Hamilton said, his eyes hard. “He was wise, as was his father before him. The friendships and alliances we shared with Nuvelle and Solyara keep the coffers full and the people fed. You claim strength. But your arrogance is isolating us. Nuvelle is desperate, Edric. Solyara and our other neighbours are in no position to help them. We could, and yet, you’re refusing to. If you push Nuvelle over the edge, they will retaliate.”

  Edric clenched his fists on the desk. “I will not bow to a foreign power just because they want what we’ve earned,” he barked. “Even the Finance Minister agrees with me.” Hamilton narrowed his eyes. “If Nuvelle wants war, they’ll find that Alathia is no longer as soft as we were under my father’s reign.”

  Heavy silence settled in the room, with the only sounds being those of the fire crackling in the hearth.

  Hamilton was the first to break the silence, exhaling. His voice is low and tired. “Then it will not be Nuvelle that brings war to Alathia, Your Majesty. It will be you.” Edric froze, looking at Hamilton, who was now looking at him in a way that Edric had never seen from him. “I’ve tried reasoning. Advising. Pleading. But you ignore me. And not just me, but Lord Esmund. And even the other heads of the Great Houses. And when war comes to Alathia, as we know it will happen, it’ll be our people’s blood on your hands.” His eyes remained locked on the king’s. “And it’ll be the people of Alathia who will suffer for your decisions.”