Titus

In the safety of his bedroom he allowed himself to cry in a way he could not in public, a way that would have been considered obscene, a way he didn't want his sister to see.

He hadn't found her, but he could imagine how she looked lying on the path out in the garden with the pool of blood around her head- the crown she had always been fated to wear.

He couldn't look at the body and didn't attend the funeral apart from a swift appearance, something Balem hadn't even done. His fists clenched with anger when he thought of Balem's thoughtless absence. Had he loved her?

Kalique sent him countless messages already but they went unanswered; she knew, of course, though she pretended to not. Just like Balem pretended to not. They pretended differently. Kalique was always bubbily, always pretending to be happy, normal. She never took it up with Titus, only her. She never mentioned she knew, but she did. She had seen them, and he wished it was a memory he could take from her. Especially now.

It was his fault she was killed, he knew. Someone else had found out, that had to be it. She had asked him to run away with him, so they could be free to do as they pleased, just two days before she was killed. He had to think about it, and she granted him the time to think, but he had felt she was keeping something from him...had she known she was in danger? He should have listened, he should have left with her.

He had held onto the roses until his palms bled and dropped them at her grave, he poured his heart out to her headstone and now he sat in total darkness and let the tears fall.

Why had he needed time to think?

He should have left with her. While he had the chance.

The tears kept falling. There would be no sleep tonight.

Kalique

Kalique could not bear children of her own. She saw to that the same day she learned, she let her fear lead her to have it done. She would never opt to reverse it.

From the moment she learned her mother's secret she held the blame on her. Entirely on her, which, in retrospect, was a bad idea. Titus was equally to blame. But she had blamed her mother's distance those years Titus was a child, allowing the nannies to raise him while she was at her committees and conferences. She herself was raised similarly, most royal children were, but that didn't matter, not then.

Pressing her fingertips to the headstone at the front of the ornate monument, she glanced down at the roses and the blood smeared across the name. Titus had been here too, alone. He was likely locked up in his room now. Her baby brother had never taken loss well, and in this case-

She'd sent him countless messages but he hadn't responded and for the first time she allowed her heart to understand, and it broke for him.

And then there was Balem, not even showing up to the funeral, surly grumpy Balem who would likely come here on his own not long after she left. She had sent him no messages, he was a bear one didn't want to poke at. He'd emerge from his cave in time.

Balem

She had hated her life. The words rang in the silent chamber and he kicked and threw, trashing the ornate bedroom until there was no more to damage, he almost missed her, he almost wanted her back. He almost regretted for what he had done.

He was the eldest, the most promising, not the pompous party boy Titus- Titus the favorite and it had only been recently he had known how deep that favoritism ran.

Years, Years it had gone on under his nose and he had been too busy with business to even notice. And Kalique, poor naive Kalique seemed happy, bubbly, oblivious. He couldn't break that charm she had, he couldn't bear to tell her her life was a lie.

And he pretended not to know, until once day he had to, he met his mother in the garden and let her know, he called her an abomination, a disgrace, and she cried, she begged his forgiveness, said she loved him; he was her son and she loved him.

But she loved Titus more. As a son and then some.

And she cried and told him not to hate her, but it was too late, he had said and she cried, saying she hated her life, two children who hated her and one who loved her too much, whom she loved too much in return.

Balem doubted Kalique hated her, of course. They had their disagreements but Kalique was never mad for long. But he just agreed with her then, in his rage he wanted Kalique to hate her.

And she said she had messed things up beyond repair and she hated her life, she just kept repeating it, over, over, and he couldn't take it so he raised his hand to strike her and her hand-

her hand went to her stomach and he knew.

He knew. He had to stop it. He had to put an end to this madness.

So he silenced her forever.

It was for the best.