From the Author: Thanks everyone for reviewing and for those who don't please do! Thank you.

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Chapter 3:

It was already evening when someone came to bother him again. Couldn't this people understand that he wanted to be alone? He didn't want to see anyone, he wanted to rest, his body felt broken, he felt used, he felt dirty and he felt ghastly, his stomach turned again just thinking about it.

He remembered throwing up as soon as he had gotten inside his room. His brother had pleased himself with him. He had done as he pleased even if Wolfram had pleaded him not to. He stayed silent hoping the intruder would go away just as hasty. He heard the trespasser try opening the door, but his room was not only locked with key, it was also locked with furniture around the door and windows.

It had taken him a while to drag all the heavy furniture all by himself with his torn-like body but he had managed. He had bathed himself, soaking his body for a while in the water had felt better. He had scrubbed his skin so hard that he had made it raw. He had burned the coat on the fire of his room, he had seen it burn until it had become ashes. He didn't feel liberated.

Wolfram tried to desperately listen to the person on the other side even though he knew who it was by the silent plea from the hallway. He heard his footsteps retreat. Wolfram cried.

It wasn't like endless tears streaming down his face kind of cry; it was more like trying to bury his cries to the world by secreting his face to his pillow. No one must ever know. Not only no one would believe him but because even if they did then everyone would know just how sickening he was. Just how sickening he felt. Just how cursed they were.

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Early in the morning Wolfram moved the things back, his body still ached and he felt it would continue to ache for a while. Comparing the aching of his heart and his distraught his ache was to very little, but even saying so Wolfram was just lying to himself. Everything hurt.

His back, his legs, his mind, his heart, his insides and even his soul still burned with him. How could He do such a thing? Wolfram just didn't understand, he had gone through every possibility in his head as to why had He done that?

He barked orders to that girl to hurry up and prepare his bath. She immediately did so with her head bow low so not to see his face.

Wolfram felt relive and yet scared. Relived, because he didn't want to face anyone just yet, but he knew he would have to, and scared, because his fear of someone finding out and look at him with such disgust would only tear him apart. He would rather die than someone finding out, especially his King and Mother.

He relaxed on the warm bath; the more he thought about it the more he realized that he didn't want to face anyone. But if he didn't want anyone finding out or asking too many questions he would have to act normal. He wasn't ready for that. He didn't want to see him.

He was scared of arousing suspicions; he was scared of being near him. He was scared of him. Wolfram felt tears forming in his eyes, he tried to control them but they just came out freely. He desired death instead.

When getting ready he tried not to look at the bruises left my his brother's savage hands, he instead focused on buttoning the right buttons or making sure that the blouse wasn't inside out like when he had put three times in a row. His hands began to tremble as time for breakfast came near.

He'd rather stay there in the safety of his room.

Sure enough Greta had knocked on his door and Wolfram quickly put on his prince's cloak. He didn't feel dignified to wear something of military rank but if he wore his lord-prince clothes he would be able to hide his shame.

He wasn't ready for them; he hoped that he would be able to control his emotions for now at least.

"We missed you yesterday!" Greta cried from the door. "Are you feeling better?"

Wolfram looked at her, such a child, a poor innocent thing, he too had been innocent.

"I'm feeling much better." Wolfram lied. "Come on let us go to breakfast. Aren't you hungry?"

"hn"

They walked side by side, Greta was holding on to his hand as they walked to the breakfast hall. She was telling him what she had done the previous day and how much she had missed him. As they were getting near and near Wolfram had stopped listening to her and instead tried to steady his breathing and heartbeat.

"Wolfram" His mother exclaimed from behind. "You look beautiful like that"

Wolfram involuntary flinched at that. His brother too had called him beautiful.

"I don't like to be told that" He stated, surprising even himself at how steady his voice sounded.

"I also like you wearing that," Greta said, "I like it when you look pretty 'cause every time you look pretty I like to think that you are a mother, my mother."

Wolfram could only stare at her; he could feel his eyes sting a little.

"I'm always here for you, no matter what" Wolfram said, he didn't trust himself to bend down but he bend awkwardly and kissed her forehead. "My baby girl." He smiled, a real smile, for a split second he didn't feel dirty.

Before he could say anything Yuri opened the door.

"I though I head your voice" he told Wolfram.

Wolfram stared at him, his eyes sting a little, again.

He knew his mother was at his left, his baby girl at his right and his future husband and the one he loved in front of him. He didn't want them to know that he was dirty and tainted. He didn't want to face the embarrassment, the shame and dishonor.

"That's awfully rude for you to miss breakfast, lunch , and dinner." Yuri protested, "not even when we send people to look for you."

"I…" Wolfram began but as soon as he was going to continue he saw, him.

Out of nowhere without any warning he, Conrad, his brother, stood behind the king.

At the mere sight of him, Wolfram thought that he might of just faint of fear and revulsion.

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TBC