The rest of the day for Weria was spent calming her sobbing child. For hours, she held and consoled her son, which was a new sensation for her. She hadn't held her child since he was a baby, and even then she only held him when she had the time for it. In a way, she enjoyed the feeling of holding something so small and fragile against her and part of her regretted not having held him sooner. Over and over, her son sobbed about how sorry he was and how he didn't mean for anyone to get hurt; that they were only playing and that he didn't even know he could walk up walls.

Weria simply listened to her son and stroked his silky hair. She knew she should scold her son, even if all she did was warn him never to be so reckless again, but she couldn't bring herself to. Perhaps seeing his friend get injured was enough; at some point towards the evening, the young Prince exhausted himself and lay sleeping in her arms. Before having a servant sent to the Prince to his room, Weria took a moment to look at her sleeping child; she had to admit that he was a very pretty boy. His cheeks were rosy, except for a small, purple, bruise where Zadan had struck him. His lashes were long and black, giving his eyes the appearance of those of a fine-china doll. His fingers, which clung to her blouse as though he were a kitten caught in a storm, were finely shaped and soft to the touch. Holding him like this, Weria couldn't help but compare him to a sleeping angle and once a servant came and took him to his room, Weria felt a strange hollow sensation in her chest that she hadn't felt before; she wondered if those were her motherly instincts crying out for her child or if it was just the day getting to her weak body.

For Weria, the day was over even if it was only 7 in the evening; all she wanted was a glass of liquor, a warm meal, a hot bath, and her bed. As she sat in the dining room with a full glass of bitter-plum liquor, wondering where Zadan was, Seras came in and joined her friend with an exhausted expression on her face.

"I guess your day went as well as mine?" muttered Weria as she swirled her glass and watched the amber liquid dance around in the glass.

"About as well. Isabella was scared senseless and Myra kept begging me to forgive Phobos. I am sure it isn't that they got caught hanging from the chandelier, but that they witnessed Zadan bust down the door and slap Phobos without hesitation." Replied Seras as she poured herself a glass of the bitter-plum liquor.

"Zadan didn't mean to scare your children, but I have to agree with you that he went a bit far this time. Part of me hopes that he only lashed out because he was worried, considering everything that has happened in the past few days." Weria continued to mutter as a dinner of roast with potatoes was served to the queens. Weria only poked at her serving while Seras heartily ate her's despite it being medium rare when she preferred well done. Seras only stopped eating once she looked up and saw that her friend was not enjoying the meal with her.

"What is the matter Weria? You know you need your strength if you plan on having another child."

"I know, but I can't enjoy the meal after everything that happened. Plus, Zadan usually has dinner with me, but I don't think that is going to happen today." Weria sighed and attempted to eat a small bite of her meal.

"I am certain I saw him join Lord Xavier for dinner tonight. I think they are going to discuss further lessons since Cedric got injured and won't be able to participate in any fencing lessons for a while." Noticing Weria's eyes filled with worry, Seras quickly continued. "There is no need for panic. The doctor said the boy dislocated his shoulder, but that it wasn't that bad, and that the boy should be fine in 2 weeks."

"At least some good news emerged today." Replied Weria, feeling a little better about the event. "Phobos was sobbing for hours about it and I am certain he didn't mean for anyone to get hurt." She then looked down at her blouse and sighed at the tear stains on the purple silk. "Poor child cried himself to sleep in my arms."

"It reminds me a little of the trouble we used to get into when we were his age." Chuckled Seras as she continued with her meal. Weria weakly smiled at the memories of her and Seras when they were her son's age.

"You mean the trouble you dragged us into?"

"If I remember correctly, it was you who caught the curtains on fire because you wanted to juggle fireballs." Corrected Seras while pointing her fork at Weria.

"And if memory suits me right, it was you who dared me." Countered Weria, her smile now brighter and a giggle hung at the edge of her voice.

"Well, we did try everything imaginable when trying to discover our abilities. However, I don't remember you or I get punished the way your son is." At this Weria had to agree; the worst she and Seras ever been punished was being placed under house arrest. Then again, there was the difference that Weria is a girl and her son, Phobos, is a boy; surely a boy could withstand worse punishments than a girl. Then again, she remembered how terrified her son was when Zadan struck him and, once again, Weria felt the hollow sensation in her chest.

"You have a point, again." Replied Weria before confessing something to her dear friend. "In all honesty, I have no idea how to raise a child. I didn't even raise Phobos, despite giving birth to him."

"Then who did?" asked Seras, shocked at the secret her friend just entrusted upon her.

"He had a nanny until recently. Zadan had her dismissed when she allowed Phobos to wreck the library a few months ago. We couldn't prove it was Phobos who did it and I believed that one of the shelves simply got unstable and fell over, but Zadan was certain he had something to do with it." Weria continued and downed another glass of the bitter liquor. "Honestly, I only ever interacted with him when he needed to be fed as a baby. In total, I'd say I spent one year with him since he was born. I held him under my heart for 9 months and I hardly know anything about him."

"Surely you have to be joking." Seras still couldn't believe her ears, but Weria only shook her head.

"I'm not. In part, I am jealous of the relationship you have with your daughters. You are a queen, a wife, and a mother of 2. How do you manage to raise your children on your own and run a kingdom while I can't?"

"I have to admit, it wasn't always easy." Seras started and pushed her half-eaten plate away; she no longer felt hungry and focused all her attention on her friend. "When Myra was born, I didn't know how to handle both. Keep in mind I knew nothing about being a mother and I still don't know everything."

"Oh, you have to be joking now!" Weria snapped at her friend, but Seras wasn't going to let herself get interrupted.

"Being a mother isn't something you can read out of a book or something someone can teach you. It is a learning process and is different with each child. I can tell you for certain, that Isabella was a much easier baby than Myra. But back to what I was saying, it isn't easy being a mother and being a queen, even when the job is the same. You look after your kingdom the way you would a child." She then poured herself another glass of the amber liquor as well. "If you called me here to teach you how to be a mother, then I am sorry to inform you that there is no way I can teach you. I can give you advice and lend a helping hand here and there, but the rest is for you to discover."

Weria let out a heavy sigh and slumped a little in her chair. For a moment, the two queens sat in silence before a playful smirk grew on Seras's lips; in one quick motion, she got up from her seat, grabbed the bottle of plum liquor in one hand and her friend's hand in the other, and lead her out of the dining room. Weria was surprised about her friend's sudden change in mood but let her lead the way; soon they were in Weria's private bathroom and a hot bath was drawn for both of them.

"Certainly, a hot bath and a good bottle will lift your spirit and motivate you to try with your son. I know I can't handle this topic on a sober mind." Said Seras as she poured some green oil from a bottle into the water and the room filled with the scent of lavender, lemongrass, and peppermint. Within half an hour, the two queens were submerged in the steaming water and were passing the bottle between both of them.

"You have a point," said Weria as she swallowed another gulp of the liquor. "I do feel better already."

"Ah, the household remedies seem to work perfectly." Chuckled Seras as the took the half-empty bottle from her friend and helped herself to a sip. "Now to you. Are you sure it is your body that is unable to produce an heir? I mean, infertile men can still please a woman in bed."

With a frown that was comically overdone by the alcohol, Weria lifted her long, porcelain-doll leg out of the bathwater to examine the deep purple bruises on the inside of her thigh that ran up from her knee to her hip. "The doctors have said nothing about Zadan, so I have to assume that the problem lies with me."

"Has he even been tested?" asked Seras as she swallowed another sip of the liquor.

"Well, I assume he has. However, I am unsure how a man can be tested for something like that."

"Simple, have him sleep with another woman. If she gets pregnant, then we know for certain that the problem is with your body and not his." At this point, Weria was drunk enough to humor her friend instead of criticizing her.

"Zadan would never sleep with another woman. He is the most faithful man a woman can dream of. However, I have to admit; knowing he isn't going the share my bed with me tonight does put a weight off my chest. He can be so rough and methodical at times. Whenever he visits me, I know exactly what he is going to do, where he is going to touch me, and how long his visits last." Muttered Weria as she placed the bottle to her lips. Usually, she wasn't this open with her private matters to anyone, but it was something about sharing a bath with Seras that made it so easy.

"The way you describe him, I am surprised you haven't found a consort to spice up your love life. I heard the Queen of Morovia has a consort and that he fathered her son Orlan. If it worked for her, then it could work for you. Besides, another man might not treat you like a piece of meat like Zadan does."

"If Zadan doesn't have a consort than I won't either. Besides, I will not stoop myself so low as to have a child with another. I am married to Zadan and shall only bare Zadan's children." With that, Weria splashes the bathwater at her friend, who only giggled and returned the favor.

"I was only trying to help you." Chuckled Seras as Weria's assaults became too much for her to defend. "That is what I am here for anyway. You have a problem and I come up with ways to help you."

"Then stop drinking so much and give me good advice instead of voicing every perverse idea that pops into your mind!" Weria only joked and Seras laughed along, but Seras wasn't drunk enough to voice every thought she had. She knew what she was doing and how to play her part to achieve what she wanted. She wasn't a good queen for nothing.

XXXXX

The next day, the Prince was woken early and dragged out of the castle with the order to wear his old and ill-fitting undergarments. After a horrid night's sleep and weak breakfast, Phobos hardly understood what was being asked of him and why, but after everything that had happened, he wasn't going to complain or ask questions. He knew his father would still be angry with him for what he did want to risk getting another slap as he had; the bruise on his cheek had turned a deep blue and purple and, if he lightly scratched it, he could draw blood from it. As quick as lightning, he rushed out to meet with Cedric and Lord Xavier by the pond on the castle grounds. The day was cloudy, and there was a cool breeze continuously blowing from one direction or another, causing the underdressed Prince to shiver in his simple cotton shirt and pants. The moment he approached the two royals, the young Prince cringed and winced at the sight of his friend's arm in a sling. In a careful whimper, Phobos asked. "How is your arm?"

"I dislocated my shoulder." Replied Cedric and gently rubbed it with his free arm. "the doctor put it back into place, but I have to keep it rested for a while."

"I am sorry." Phobos stared, but Cedric only smiled and waved him off.

"It was an accident and I am not angry at you." This lifted a weight off Phobos's chest, and he managed a weak smile at his friend. All night, he had worried that Cedric would be too scared of him to continue their friendship.

"What happened with your cheek?" asked Cedric with a worried expression as he carefully poked at the bruise, only to have his friend wince at the mere touch.

"King Zadan hit me yesterday for getting you hurt and putting the princesses in danger. Queen Weria said he was just worried and that his emotions got the better of him. I am certain he didn't mean to hit me that hard." Replied Phobos and shielded his cheek from further touch. Before Cedric could respond, their short conversation was interrupted by Xavier calling them to the dock sticking into the pond. The wood of the dock was old, worn, soft from the years of being exposed to the water, and growing moss between separate planks. Everything about the structure told the young Prince to stay away; even the whisper in his head warned him to stay away from the pond.

Stay away.

Stay away from Lord Xavier.

Stay away from the pond.

Xavier is still angry with you about yesterday.

Say you are sick.

Say you can't participate in the lesson today.

There is no shame in taking a sick day.

Every word the voice spoke felt more and more urgent; it was almost begging him not to get near Lord Xavier. However, Phobos chose to ignore the warning voice in his head and approached the Lord with an uncertain feeling growing in his stomach. Seeing it was only him and Cedric with Xavier, Phobos looked up at his mentor and asked. "Where are Princess Myra and Isabella?"

"They are still under house arrest for disobeying. Personally, I would have them with us for this lesson, but their mother chose a different punishment for them. I am certain, by the end of the say, their fingers will burn from writing a hundred copies of the rules they were told before arriving." Replied Xavier without meeting the Prince's eyes.

"What is the lesson for today?" asked Cedric as he stared at the grey surface of the pond before them. He hadn't yet learned to swim and being unable to see the bottom of the water made him uneasy. Furthermore, with his arm in a sling, he wasn't sure how he was going to learn anytime soon.

"Today, you two will learn how to swim."

"Swim? In this weather?" Phobos asked, shocked and afraid at what his teacher just said.

"We could have learned it sooner had you not fooled around and wasted precious time. You know you'd eventually have to learn considering every soldier knows how to and it would be vital when serving your kingdom." Xavier reasoned as he gently ushered the children closer to the edge of the dock. Cautiously, the boys looked over the edge and saw their reflections in the murky water. At the Prince stared into the uncertain waters, the voice in his mind was screaming at him to stop attending the lesson and run from this place; however, his legs would not obey his mind. He wanted to obey the voice and run back to the castle, but his knees were frozen in place and his throat felt as dry as a desert so he couldn't even object to the Lord volunteering him to try first.

"T-then why are we on the dock?" the Prince managed to ask through his dry and shaking voice. "Wouldn't it make more sense to start on the shore and work our way up from there?"

"Nonsense," replied Xavier as he padded the young Prince on the back. "You shall learn the way I was taught. The way all Meridian children are taught."

Without another word or warning, Xavier grabbed the boy by the shoulders, lifted him off his feet, and threw him into the pond as far as he could. For a moment, Phobos felt as light as air; for a moment, he saw the grey sky above and feel the wind whistle in his ears before the murky water closed over him. Shocked from the cold water, Phobos was unable to move his limbs and kept sinking until his back touched the rocky bottom of the pond. All around him, seaweed swayed in the current of the pond as though it was performing a dance for the young royal and schools of silverlings swam around him as though he were a welcomed guest or an unseen specter. Everything was quiet and the only sound Phobos could hear was the steady beat of his heart that hadn't had the chance to quicken yet. For a moment, Phobos couldn't believe the peaceful and silent environment he found himself in; with such a wonderful surroundings, he didn't feel like he wanted to leave.

This peaceful serenity was shattered when the voice in his head shrieked at him that he needed air. It was because of that voice that he realized his lungs were burning for fresh air; he had barely taken a breath when he was thrown and now he could feel it. Frantically, the Prince clawed at the water around him in an attempt to get to the surface; for a moment it seemed to work as, through the murk, the glare of the sunlight became closer and closer. He was only an arm's length away from breaking the surface when he felt something tugging at his ankle. Glancing down, Phobos saw that a tuft of seaweed had wrapped around his leg and was keeping him from escaping. Never having been underwater, Phobos opened his mouth to call for help, expecting to hear his voice ring out; this hope was quickly crushed when his voice came out muffled and the little air in his lungs left him through a few large bubbles. Seeing his hope for rescue float away from him like feathers in a warm draft, Phobos let himself sink back to the bottom as a creeping dread that he had never left before began to crawl into his chest. It started with a freezing chill that started at his finger-tips and toes and crept up his limbs. Since he had never felt this before, he didn't know what to call it or where it came from until the voice whispered its name to him.

It is death.

You are drowning.

You are slowly dying.

This pond will become your watery grace.

You will never see your friends and family ever again and they will never see you again.

Slowly, his vision began to darken around the edges and his head felt heavy. He hadn't lived long and hadn't done much with his life; he didn't want to die like this. This was an awful way to die.