A/N: Just a heads-up—this chapter does contain some violence.
-XIII-
A year after Jakob's wedding, the next two eldest princes, Fredrik and Lukas, jumped on the bandwagon and got married, too—Fredrik to a woman named Elin and Lukas to a woman named Marie. Both brides were five years the junior of their husbands, which Hans found mildly perplexing at first—it would be like him marrying someone who was one now. But maybe that was another thing to marriage that he was missing. After seeing both couples, neither of which looked as happy together as he might have imagined, he became convinced that marriage was, at least some of the time, not an act of love. Did that mean people didn't always find someone to love? That those stories and fairy tales where the princess always found her prince were nothing more than fantastic yarns spun for entertainment, and had no grounds in reality? It was a depressing thought for a six-year-old, and so Hans tried not to dwell on it…but it remained in the back of his mind.
A couple of weeks later, the news came that Elin was pregnant—which, according to some of the talk Hans heard, wasn't supposed to happen. At least, not until it had happened to Cathrine. There were a couple of people who blamed Fredrik and Elin for not being careful enough (whatever that meant), but there was nothing to be done about it. Hans would have sought out Fredrik to congratulate him, but two things held him back. One, if the news wasn't all good, then Fredrik might not be looking for congratulations. And two, he was learning that his brothers didn't always want to hear from him. Sometimes, at least, it was better to leave them alone.
About a year passed, and Elin gave birth to a girl, who was named Rebekka. Again, not everyone seemed satisfied with this, Fredrik included—something about it being a girl instead of a boy. But at least Cathrine was pregnant now. It took a lot of the attention away from Rebekka's birth—which seemed to anger Fredrik even more, based on the times Hans saw him in the castle, storming by and muttering. Once, Hans made the mistake of talking to him, and was roughly shoved into the wall in response, earning him several bruises. After that, he made sure to get out of the way whenever he heard his second brother coming.
The same went for Jakob, too. After the news of Cathrine's pregnancy broke, he was often surrounded by well-wishers, and looked rather pleased. No longer eager to encounter his oldest brother again, especially not when he came off as pretty smug, Hans began to evade him, only directly interacting with Jakob when Josef escorted him to go congratulate the expecting couple (which he noticed his caretaker had not done when Elin became pregnant). Now that his opinion of Jakob had plummeted, though, Hans said little more than a carefully delivered few words. To his dismay, that seemed to please the others more than an enthusiastic, genuinely caring statement. It was as if they weren't really family. So Hans forced his feelings down and kept his mask on, something that seemed to be important in this castle. And something that he found that he was learning to do.
But not all the time. There were instances when there was no way that he could remain calm and collected, continue to be the well-behaved prince that everyone wanted him to be. Like what happened one day, a few weeks after Hans turned eight years old…
It was a winter afternoon, and Hans was in a playful mood. Afternoons like this were for going out in the snow and having fun, even if you did sometimes have to be calm and collected while doing so.
At least, that was what he thought. His brothers didn't seem to think the same. After telling Josef that he was going out to the courtyard, Hans set about asking the others if they wanted to join him…and it did not go well.
First, he asked Klaus and Simon, who were studying something or other in the library. When they rebuffed his invitation to go outside, he became curious about the book they were poring over, and tried to get a look at it. "What are you doing?" asked Simon.
"Just looking. What are you reading?"
Simon frowned. "None of your business. Go away."
"I can't read it, too?"
Both brothers glared at him, and he hung his head and slunk away. It wasn't too surprising that Simon and Klaus had been doing something on their own; as the only pair of twins among the princes, they had a closer bond than most of the others. Fortunately, though, his spirits were revived upon looking outside again and thinking that maybe another one of his brothers would like to go outside. Valentin was next—but he was no more eager than Simon and Klaus (albeit a little less unkind). And Hans couldn't find Gabriel or Erik anywhere. As for his other brothers, they were either too old for him to expect an affirmative response…or they were Aleksander, whom Hans had learned to stay away from. The twelfth prince's treatment of his younger brother had not improved over time, and Hans could remember instances when he had come away from an encounter between them with bruises that took days to heal. Aleksander's idea of playing in the snow most likely involved shoving Hans into a snowbank or tripping him on a frozen lake. So, after Hans had finished looking for Erik (unsurprised that he couldn't find him), he decided that he could have fun on his own, and went into the castle courtyard by himself.
He amused himself for a little over a half hour by making snowmen and imagining them as his subjects, a favorite activity of the prince who didn't have anyone looking up to him. Eventually, though, it became too cold for him, and with no one else around him to make the snow more fun, he decided to go back in, kicking his snowmen over and turning around. But he had only gone a few steps before he heard someone walking up to him from the side, and, a second later, a voice.
"Hello, Hans."
Hans flinched and looked over. Standing next to him, with the look of a predator gazing at its prey, was Aleksander. "What?" said Hans, his mood instantly soured.
"What were you doing?"
"Nothing."
"Playing with snowmen?"
"I said, nothing."
Aleksander grinned. "They're the only friends you'll ever have, you know."
"Shut up," Hans snarled, his self-control already slipping.
"You mad because it's true?"
"I said shut up!"
Aleksander sneered. "You're gonna be alone forever. Nobody likes you…"
"Nobody likes you, either," Hans snapped.
A flash of anger was visible in his brother's eyes. "At least I'm not last in line for the throne. Last in importance, last in people anyone cares about…"
Hans had heard a lot of this before, but it didn't stop his blood boiling when he heard it again. Not trusting himself to keep his cool, he stormed off.
"Hey, Hans!"
On instinct, Hans turned around upon hearing his name…and had just enough time to see the snowball before it smashed into his face. He gasped and stumbled back, face stinging. Raising a gloved hand to his face, he wiped the snow away and glared at his older brother, who was smirking back. "Weakling," he taunted.
"Jerk!" Hans yelled back.
In response, Aleksander hurled another snowball at him, which also hit him in the face. But this one had a piece of ice in it, which broke Hans's skin, leaving a small cut. Whether or not it was intentional, Hans didn't know. But at that moment, it didn't matter. That was the last straw. Not bothering to clear the snow from his face, he ran at Aleksander, yelling in fury. Aleksander blinked, taken aback for a second, and that allowed Hans to tackle him to the ground. His brother was taller than he was, but that wasn't going to stop Hans…and besides, on the ground, everyone was the same height. Raising a fist, he drove it into his brother's cheek, and before Aleksander had time to recover, Hans struck again, this time hitting him in the eye.
"Hans!"
Hans recognized the voice, but was too overcome with rage to pay attention to it, and continued his assault until he was forcefully pulled away. "Hans, what are you doing?"
He turned his angered face to Josef, who was looking down at him with a mixture of lividness and horror. "He hit me with a snowball."
"That's no excuse—"
"He cut me! Look!" Hans pointed to the slightly-bleeding wound on his face.
Josef shook his head. "That doesn't matter. You cannot—"
"Doesn't matter? He hurt me! Don't you ca—"
"Hans, do not interrupt me!"
"Don't interrupt me! I'm a prince, and you're just a lowly caretaker!" At the word "caretaker," he shoved Josef backward—which, since he was just an eight-year-old boy, wasn't with a whole lot of strength.
But it did the job. Josef was forced back, and his expression took on a fury that Hans had never seen before. And before he could register what was happening, his caretaker had raised a hand and brought it down on Hans's face.
Hans recoiled from the blow, his hand on his cheek. It took him a second to process what had just happened. Josef had just hit him. Josef, the man who was always on him about following proper protocol, had just abused a member of the royal family. Hans didn't know what the exact details were…but he did know that such an action could not go unpunished.
Josef seemed to realize this, too, and Hans could see him trying to keep back the fear of what might happen to him now. "Hans…"
But Hans was already gone. He was going to tell someone, whoever he could find. Even someone like Jakob or the king couldn't let this go unnoticed.
A sense of vengeful satisfaction rose up in Hans as he raced through the castle halls. Josef had treated him terribly all his life, and now, he was going to get what was coming to him.
He ran along, heading for the part of the castle that the higher-ups frequented, ignoring the sounds of Josef running along behind him. And, a few minutes later, he found his father standing on a carpeted staircase, addressing a few other richly-dressed people. Hans's mind went back to the last time he had caught his father in the middle of meeting with a bunch of other important people…but this was different. He wasn't interrupting just for a surprise visit, he was interrupting to tell his father about something important. "Dad!" he called.
He saw his father stiffen slightly, but he did not turn to him. Some of the others did, but they were not the ones that Hans was talking to. "Da—" Hans began, then stopped himself. "Father!"
The king seemed to give in as he turned to Hans. "Yes?"
Well, at least this time he wasn't acting like he didn't know who Hans was. The others were, maybe…but they weren't the ones who were going to act on this.
"Your Majesty!"
Josef had joined them. At his presence, the king seemed to pay more attention. "Is something the matter?"
Hans didn't give Josef a chance to speak. "Josef struck me just now!"
The king blinked. "What?"
Hans narrowed his eyes. He had spoken clearly enough. "We got into a disagreement, and he hit me."
"He…hit you?"
"Yes." How had this guy become king, again?
Josef spoke up. "Your Majesty, Hans was attacking Prince Aleksander. When I tried to separate them, he turned his aggression to me, and I reacted on instinct."
The king's cold eyes fell upon Hans again. "Is this true?"
"No! Well, I did push him, but he completely overreacted!"
"But you did push him."
Hans stomped his foot. "That's not the point! The point is—"
"The point is that I am king and you are not, Hans," said his father firmly. "And Josef has proven himself to be a hard worker before now."
"No he—"
"Hans, do not interrupt."
Hans froze, the king's words echoes of Josef's own minutes before. "I will let it slide," he continued. "But Josef, do try to control yourself."
Josef bowed so low Hans thought he would lose his balance and fall forward. "Yes, Your Majesty."
"Now if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to. Do not interrupt me like this again, Hans."
He turned back to the people before him, who had been trying to ignore the whole situation for the past minute. Before Hans could say anything, Josef took his arm and led him away.
Hans looked up at his caretaker, eyes full of hatred. "I will not forget this," he snarled.
Josef said nothing, staring straight ahead, stone-faced.
It took a long time for Hans to cool off from those events. He was beyond furious at his father for treating him like just a naughty child, instead of someone who had been physically abused. And he would never forgive Josef for his actions. They may have been done in the spur of the moment, but it didn't take much to see that Josef detested the young prince, and Hans didn't doubt that, if he could, Josef would use corporal punishment more often. On a prince of the Southern Isles!
Yet that title seemed to count for nothing. Not when he was number thirteen. In the king's eyes, at least, the thirteenth prince—his own son—was worth less than a caretaker, someone of the servant class. How did the castle function with things this incredibly backward?
Aleksander was right. No one cared about Hans.
Instead of feeling sad, though, Hans could only feel angry. This was nothing short of a betrayal on the part of the royal family and those who worked for them—if you could call them a family. Families actually cared about each other. He remembered Cathrine's parents (who, unfortunately, he had barely seen since Jakob's wedding), and how they had looked genuinely happy to see their daughter married. The king and queen hadn't even seemed that happy at Jakob's wedding, and he was their first son, due to inherit the throne one day! Did they actually care about any of their children? These thoughts actually made Hans shake with fury.
There was one satisfying thing that came out of what had happened, though. Aleksander, though he would still taunt and bully Hans, did so much less often, especially physically. Hans could almost see a spark of fear in his eyes whenever they would pass, and would remember the black eye he had given him in the courtyard on a snowy day.
He was moving up the line. If Aleksander began to fear him, Hans would become superior, no longer the one who was most cast aside.
He could become greater than he was now. He could gain respect from people. Violence had worked against Aleksander…but it probably wouldn't be a universal solution, especially since it had harmed other people's perceptions of him. Still, if he could rise above his brother…that meant there were other possibilities.
He just had to wait for the right ones to present themselves.
