The sudden slam of a door made Alvis drop his book.

"Azel? Is that you?"

A blur of red hair and a dirty maroon cloak stormed past him, making a beeline for his room. Alvis frowned, rose from his chair, and followed Azel. He caught up with him just as he was about to close the door.

"Azel, what's going on? I thought you were spending the day in the gardens studying."

No answer. Azel quietly threw himself on his bed, but the heaving of his shoulders was a dead giveaway that he was crying. Alvis's frown deepened. Azel, sensitive and emotional as he could be, did not cry easily. Since there were no signs of injury, Alvis was perplexed as to why his brother would be this upset.

"What happened, Azel?" he asked.

A sharp sniffle, followed by a mumbled 'nothing'. Alvis put a hand on his brother's shoulder, almost forcibly.

"Talk to me."

"'m just being oversensitive and stupid," Azel mumbled.

"Why would you say that?" Alvis asked.

"Cause they always say a man who cries over what other people say about him is weak, and I don't want to be weak," Azel said. Alvis released his grip on Azel's shoulder and clenched his fist. So that's what this is about.

"Who was it, and what nasty rumors were they spreading this time? What did you overhear?"

"I didn't overhear anything. A bunch of boys from the village nearby came over and started saying stuff," Azel said, sniffling again. "They said all this stuff about how my mother was a worthless whore and it was good she was dead, and that father never liked me and wished I'd never been born. I tried to tell em to stop, but they laughed and started chanting 'bastard child, bastard child' over and over again, and they were so loud..."

Overtaken by sobs, he curled up tightly and buried his face in the pillow, soaking it with his tears.

Alvis's face burned with anger. He wanted to find those boys, beat them with a switch the way their parents should have and obviously didn't.

It was bad enough when people spread rumors about House Velthomer. About the disappearance of his mother and her supposed affair, about his father's womanizing and mysterious death. The bastard child of Lord Victor and that poor serving girl.

That bastard child was the only family Alvis had left. He had always prayed the gossips would never personally attack Azel.

As Azel continued to cry, Alvis sat down at the foot of the bed. He didn't know what to say...had Azel's mother still been alive, she would have told him the important thing was that he had faith in himself, but Alvis knew better. As a future king, Azel would have to garner the faith of the people as well as faith in himself.

He had to do something to stop his brother's tears, though. He hated seeing him this upset.

As Azel sat up for a moment to catch his breath, Alvis drew him into a tight embrace, rubbing his back. Azel blinked.

"B-brother?"

"I can't stop the rumors...but I can at least try to take some of the pain away," Alvis said.

"...I must look really pitiful if you feel sorry enough to hold me," Azel mumbled. Though not neccesarily cold, Alvis wasn't a very affectionate person. "Last time you held me like this was when my mother died." His sobs slowly faded, but tears still flowed freely down his cheeks.

"Azel..." Alvis sighed. "I guess I can be pretty cold sometimes."

"You are. Sometimes I feel like I'm just in your way, like I'm not good enough for you," Azel said. "But it's not your fault. You are seven years older and you've got your own life..."

"Be that as it may, I never meant to give you the impression that I don't care for you," Alvis said. "Listen, brother...no matter how many years' difference their is between us, even if we don't come from the same mother, we're still brothers, and you still mean everything to me."

"Alvis..."

"So please...stop crying. It doesn't matter if those fools are trying to slander you. I'll deal with them," Alvis said. "They will learn to respect you even if I have to threaten them with the Falaflame spell!"

The mental image of Alvis chasing those boys while waving the sacred Falaflame spell book was too much, and Azel couldn't stop himself from laughing out loud.

"You wouldn't really burn them, though, would you Alvis?" he asked.

"That would depend on whether they listened to me," Alvis said. "If I had to, I'd just use an ordinary fire tome and scorch them a little." He was obviously kidding, and that just made Azel laugh more.

Alvis smirked.

"So that's what it takes to get you to stop crying?" he teased. "Hearing me talk about threatening a few twelve year olds?" Azel blushed.

"N-no! I just pictured you chasing them with the book and it made me laugh!" he said. "I mean, you're so dignified, running around waving a book at anyone isn't...you."

"Just so you know, I'd never really do that. Or set them on fire," Alvis said. "But I'd want to."

"Thanks, brother," Azel said, snuggling closer.

Alvis sighed.

"Are you all right now?"

"I guess so...but if you don't mind, I'd like to stay inside for the rest of the day," Azel said.

"I'm not doing anything for the rest of the day. How would you like me to help you study some more spells?" Alvis offered.

"Really?" Azel's face lit up. "I'd love that! Thank you so much, brother!"

"You go wash your face, and meet me in the study in five minutes," Alvis said, giving him one last hug. Azel nodded, slowly getting up as his brother let go of him.

'Hm. Maybe I'm not so bad at this big-brother thing after all,' Alvis thought.

And as he pictured himself chasing the boys with the sacred tome, he found himself laughing.

"Lord Alvis! What has gotten into you?" a servant asked as she walked by the room.

"Oh, nothing...just a little joke between my brother and I."

"I should've known!" the woman laughed. "I swear, having that boy is the only good thing your father ever did!"

Alvis smiled.

"I know."