A dinner invite? It seemed so tacky.
Titus laughed as he looked over the invite, handing it back to his servant with that familiar, arrogant smirk.
"He must be lonely, wouldn't you say?" He smiled, looking towards the timid looking man whose name had completely escaped him. Not that he really cared to know.
"Perhaps Balem wishes to end the hostilities, sir?" The man replied hesitantly.
Titus laughed. "I feel there's a greater chance in our Mother rising from the dead."
The living quarters in Balem's Jupiter tower were shamefully small in comparison to some of his other dwellings, yet he knew they would still inspire a great deal of envy in his younger sibling. After all, if Titus tried anything, he'd rather clear up the messy aftermath here than in one of his more luxurious homes.
He'd be here shortly. Glancing out of the large, glass paneled window of the master bedroom, Balem really hoped his foolish little brother would accept his fate with dignity. Titus had to die, that was certain, but he still did not particularly wish to see the moron writhing and begging like some sort of lowly creature from one of the harvested planets.
"Sir, your brother has arrived—"
Balem's thoughts were broken as his guard entered the doorway of the room.
"Delightful. Send him in."
Several moments passed, and then at once Balem was reminded of his acute dislike for his younger sibling.
"Brother! It's been a while!"
Titus beamed, strolling across the hall, practically shoving the guard to a side as he entered the master bedroom with a sickeningly arrogant swagger. Still, his face oozed naivety, and as Balem embraced his brother, a brief moment of hesitation came over him as he came close enough to his rival to feel the soft warmth of his skin, the smell of his hair. Perhaps he would miss him as he had begun to miss their mother?
Titus sat opposite from his older sibling, as far away as could have been made possible, it seemed. The table was perhaps 10 feet long, and it was abundantly clear Balem had no real interest in genuine interaction with him. It was a formality, at best… to appear as if the two were not in such ruthless competition with one another that they had begun to hate each other. At worst, well… no. Balem would never go so far as to hurt him, Titus told himself.
"Are you not hungry?" Titus heard his brother ask him after several minutes of picking around hesitantly at the indistinguishable plate of food in front of him. He'd taken several sips of the wine, and it had left him feeling bizarrely impaired.
"No, it's not that. I just…" Titus felt his vision blur slightly. Perhaps another sip of wine would…would settle this anxiousness…or perhaps it was the wine, what was happening to him? He took another sip, and felt himself shaking. He dropped the glass, hearing it smash against the floor several seconds later. He looked to Balem, feeling his body tense, freeze. His eyes were pleading, terrified. He'd been fooled. Balem's lips slowly flickered into a smile.
"What's wrong little brother, are you feeling unwell?"
"What have you done to me?" Titus managed to snap back, before his skin was drained of its color entirely, and he slumped back in his chair, shaking.
"A toxin, brother. Perhaps you were too busy staring at your own reflection in the cutlery to notice me slipping it into your drink? You shouldn't worry, it's almost entirely painless and shouldn't take too long…"
By now, Titus was almost unintelligible, having slid onto the floor, desperately attempting to crawl away. A laughable sight, Balem thought.
"Why would you…why would you…"
Balem laughed, rising, he walked over to his brother as he crawled helplessly against the cold, marble surface of the floor.
"I'm sure you know why. You're in the way, Titus. You're an obstacle. You wish to be first in line, and I'm sure you'd stop at nothing to achieve that. You'd have me killed eventually, Kalique too. I'm simply making sure that can't happen."
With a flick of his boot, he flipped Titus over from his stomach to his back.
"I don't need to be heir, Balem, I don't care! I don't!"
Balem tutted. "You always have been a terrible liar, Titus, I really can't understand why anyone believes a word of your nonsense. You're a charmer, I suppose. But you can't charm me."
Titus was vaguely aware of the taste of blood as it began to trickle from his mouth, as he squinted to make out his brother's silhouette. Tears rolled down his cheeks as his eyes became glassy and hopeless.
Balem stared back at Titus, and felt a strange pain hit his chest as he did so- a similar pain to that which had struck him as he witnessed his mother's death.
"Oh, how I hate you." He muttered with a tone of resignation. After some moments of deliberation, he found himself retrieving a small vial from his pocket. Kneeling down to Titus' slumped position, he reluctantly placed a hand underneath his brother and hoisted him up slightly as he opened the vial. "Open your mouth. Before I change my mind."
Shaking, Titus did so, allowing the antidote to be poured down his throat.
Letting go of Titus, who promptly flopped back on to the floor with a percussive thwack, Balem stood and angrily began to pace up and down. He couldn't kill his own yet again. He just couldn't.
"Guards!" He shouted, after a few moments of further frustration. "Please escort my brother to the guest room! He's had a little too much wine, it would seem!"
"What are you doing? Don't you drag me like that, do you even know who I am?" Titus moaned, barely coherent as the guards hoisted him up. Balem watched as he was carried away, slurring and moaning in agony. He'd pay him a visit later with a memory loss elixir. Perhaps he'd even have a normal discussion with him. Sibling bonding, or whatever it was called.
Balem sighed, finding himself once again staring blankly out at the vast, orange landscape of Jupiter. He was lonely. He'd already lost his mother, perhaps it would not be wise to erase the last of his family quite so soon. Even rulers needed company after all.