There was a knock on the door as Flora had placed a pin in Krystal's hair, holding it up in a large bun, the typical hairstyle for the women of Hademort. Flora set down the silver box of pins on the vanity in front of Krystal before walking to the door.
When Flora opened the door, she was greeted by a smiling Saladin, but his smile was clearly fixed on the surface. He did not appear happy at all.
"Good evening, Saladin." Flora gave the old man a genuine smile, hoping to lighten the mood, "I was just preparing the princess for her meal with Prince Helia. The prince still plans to eat at eight, right?"
"That is why I am here, my dear," Saladin sighed, "unfortunately His Highness will not be able to dine with the princess."
"What?!" Krystal exclaimed from the vanity, turning in her seat to face the pair at the door. "What do you mean that he is unable to dine with me? I am getting absolutely-"
"I am sorry to interrupt, but His Highness has been called to dine with his father tonight. A demand that the prince cannot ignore. I do apologize, Your Highness."
Krystal's face softened but the anger and disappointment that she felt did not subside.
"Very well," Krystal turned back to face the vanity, "tell the prince that I will see him tomorrow."
"Yes, Your Highness." Saladin replied, "Will there be anything else?"
"No. That will be all."
Saladin looked at Flora, sadness reflected in his black eyes, before turning back to face the princess and gave her a small bow.
Flora shut the door behind Saladin as he left, leaving Flora and the princess alone in Krystal's bedroom.
"Your Highness..."
"If he didn't want to dine with me, then he should have just said so instead of making Saladin lie for him." Krystal quietly responded.
Flora sighed and put her head down, "I don't think-"
Krystal turned around and took the silver box of pins and threw them onto the ground, "No! No, Flora! Don't say anything! I don't want to hear it! I just want to take these stupid pins out of my hair, take this dress off, and just go to bed."
"Your Highness..." Flora walked over to the scattered pins and silver box. She crouched down to the floor and began picking up the pins off of the stone floor.
Krystal turned back around, placed her elbows on the vanity table, and cradled her forehead in her palms. Flora heard the faint sound of sniffling and looked up to see Krystal's shoulders bobbing up and down. Flora rose to her feet, picking up all the pins, and placed the silver box of pins back on the vanity table.
"Krystal," Flora softly said Krystal's name as she placed a hand on her shoulder. All sense of formality leaving the room as Flora knew that this was not the time to be formal.
"I don't want to talk right now, Flora. I just want to eat and go to bed. I don't want to hear about 'keeping positive' or-"
"No, I was going to tell you that you have every right to be upset. Even if His Highness is telling the truth tonight, he has been nothing but terrible to you. You deserve so much more than what he has given you. I would give him a piece of my mind if I could."
Krystal looked up at Flora through the mirror, her eyes red and puffy from crying.
"I just...I just...I just..."
"Sh sh sh," Flora wrapped her arms around Krystal's shoulders and pulled her in so that the princess's head was resting against Flora's hips, "I know, I know. I know how unfair and cruel life can be and there are times where I too find it hard to look on the bright side. Now, let's get you undressed, and I will draw you another hot bath. I will send for someone to bring your dinner here and I will stay with you until you fall asleep."
Krystal sighed and a small smile stretched across her pink lips, "I would like that very much."
The large wooden door loomed large over Helia's head. The dark wood to his father's chambers always sent a chill up his spine, but now, that chill had grown even stronger. His father never called him to share dinner with him in his chambers unless it was something important. And he had never been called at the last moment.
The last light of the day shone through the window across the hall, casting a large shadow of Helia's body on the large door. He swallowed, the large shadow on the door making him feel so small. Helia looked down at his bandaged hand and flexed his fingers. He had not heard about what happened to the man from earlier. Saladin had not come to his room, Helia figured that it had been bad news and that Saladin had been angry with him. But he did not need the approval of people beneath him. Who cared what Saladin or any other servant thought?
Taking a deep breath, Helia lifted the hand that was not bruised and broken, and knocked on the door. The large wooden door was opened by a tall, thin servant and Helia stepped inside. His father was seated at the small wooden table in the antechamber of his large, royal suite. Duncan was seated to the left of the king, an odd position for him to be in.
"Prince Helia, sit." His father called out to him. While the greeting had been characteristically formal, there was no animosity and the typical "boy" insult had been omitted.
With a confident stride, Helia made his way over to the table and took the seat at the right side of his father. It was odd to see his father from this position, Duncan usually being the one at his father's right-hand side.
"I saw you at training this afternoon." King Azrael stated as he filled his cup with wine.
Helia kept his eyes straight, reaching for the pitcher of wine that his father had set on the table. Usually, a servant would be in charge of filling the cups but dinners with his father in his chambers were always a much more...intimate affair.
"I saw, sir." Came Helia's polite albeit short response. How else was he supposed to respond? He knew that his father was there. He saw him talking with the princess and her handmaiden. He saw Duncan smile as he wrapped his arm around Flora's waist. Helia knew that he did something terrible to his opponent. He knew that his father was there.
"I must say, I was most impressed by your display at training this afternoon."
Helia snapped his head over to look at his father, the wine almost spilling from the metal goblet as his hands twitched in surprise at his father's words. Luckily, Helia quickly regained composure and the wine stayed in the goblet.
"You were, sir?" Helia asked.
"I was just telling Captain Duncan here that you have shown great improvement and that I would like you to train side by side." Azrael placed a hand on Duncan's shoulder. Helia looked towards the young captain, a dark expression across his face. Duncan didn't seem to be pleased by this recent development.
"Yes, sir." Helia replied, trying his best to ignore Duncan's discontent at the king's insistence that he and Helia train together.
"I think that it would be good to have the Captain of the Royal Guard and the Crown Prince train together. It would show a great deal of strength. However, after today, I doubt that anyone would doubt the physical might of either one of you. But together...you would be unstoppable."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Duncan replied as he brought his goblet of wine to his lips. His golden eyes glaring over the top of the goblet, right at Helia. Helia returned the same steely gaze. Neither of them particularly elated at the king's command.
"I saw a lot of myself in you today," King Azrael turned towards Helia, "the strength you showed, the way that you did not let up...I'm proud of you, my boy."
Helia nearly choked on his wine. Had he heard his father correctly? Had the king just said what Helia thought he said? If he did, was he talking to the prince and not to the Captain? His father had looked at him, but it would not be the first time that Azrael looked to Helia and had given a compliment to Duncan, just to make Helia feel bad.
"Thank you, sir," Helia replied, he didn't know what else to say.
King Azrael turned back to face in front of him, ending the slight moment of acceptance that Helia had felt from his father. Back to business.
"I also had the pleasure of meeting with the princess at the training grounds." Azrael said as he reached forward for a serving tray of roasted chicken, "Though unfortunately, I don't think that she and her little servant saw your display, Prince Helia. However, I was happy to see that she was able to see what Hademort has to offer. She seemed most pleased."
Helia wanted to roll his eyes. Was she? Was the Linphean princess really that pleased by what she had seen or was she just being polite? Linpheans were known to be pacifists and there was no way that Krystal, Princess of Linphea, was "pleased" by the training that she had witnessed this afternoon.
"And I saw that you were quite taken with the princess's handmaiden, Captain." King Azrael smirked as he glanced over to Duncan.
Helia gripped his fork tightly in his hand, the same red feeling slowly encompassing his body and mind. However, he soon released the tension, realizing how irrational he was being. She was just a handmaiden and he knew nothing about her. Why the Hell was he so angry? Why did he lose it in the middle of his match when he saw Duncan's arm around Flora? Why did he care?
He didn't. But still, he couldn't control the rage and disgust that he felt when Duncan and his father talked the way they did about the young and beautiful handmaiden.
"She is quite the beauty," Azrael added.
"Indeed, Your Majesty." Duncan smirked, "A fine-looking woman. I was glad to find that she feels just as good as she looks. Though that is with her clothes on."
Helia did his best to keep his anger at bay. He didn't need a repeat of what happened earlier and Helia was unsure if he would be able to take on the captain. Duncan was older, bigger, stronger, more ruthless. Everything that his father valued.
Azrael remarked, "I am surprised that it had taken this long for you to make your first move, captain."
"A gentle approach for a gentle flower."
"Very different from your usual strategy, captain. Keep me updated on your campaign for the affections of our little flower."
"Oh, her affections are not the target, Your Majesty." Duncan sipped his wine, a nasty and suggestive look in his eyes. Helia wanted to pluck them out.
"I have heard that the people of Linphea are a very sensual bunch," Azrael replied, "I am sure that it will not take long to reach your intended target. You have never failed before."
"You know that I always get the job done, Your Majesty. Both on and off the battlefield."
"Right you are, my boy."
Helia rolled his eyes at his father's praises for the captain.
"Some might say that I am skilled with two different kinds of swords."
Azrael roared into laughter, Duncan joining along. Helia sat across the captain and grabbed his goblet, aggressively chugging down the wine. Helia thought that this dinner would be different but once again, he was longing for the deep and fiery taste of whiskey.
"And what of you and the princess, Your Highness?" Duncan asked Helia. His golden eyes teasing him, letting Helia know that the princess was intended for the prince while the beautiful handmaiden was for the captain to take.
"I have been too focused on my training and studying strategy to worry about the princess." Helia coldly replied, his eyes meeting Duncan's with a hateful gaze.
"Well," Azrael butted in, oblivious or indifferent to the visual daggers being thrown by the two men on either side of him, "as long as she walks down that aisle and you fuck a few brats into her, you shouldn't concern yourself with the princess. And if she doesn't do those things, I will destroy Linphea and take everything they have."
Helia glanced over to his father, not knowing what to say in response.
"Yes, sir."
Helia was thankful when the conversation left the topic of the women from Linphea and onto topics that his father usually enjoyed talking about. Duncan and Azrael began to talk about how they had pushed the Paladins of Koria further north, closer to Hademort and closer to defeat. Helia continued to nurse his large goblet of wine, his mind running with thoughts of the handmaiden in blue. How beautiful she looked against the burnt sky of the setting sun. How she smiled next to the princess and how their eyes met when he looked up at her. How could a woman like her have such a hold over him? How did such a woman exist? If it had not been for the fact that everyone else could see her too, Helia would have believed the woman to be part of a dream or hallucination.
"...And I think that we could get the king to surrender by the last full moon of the summer."
"Excellent news, captain." Azrael remarked, "I am hoping to be done with the nuisance to the south. King Malacoy had been a foe that needed to be dealt with for years."
"What had he done?" Helia asked and immediately regretted it when his father's hand stopped cutting his food. Azrael looked to Helia, his black eyes narrowing in an icy glare at his son.
"It does not matter what he has done, boy. Malacoy was a problem that needed to be dealt with and he has been handled accordingly. His lands destroyed, his bastards and whore of a wife disposed of, and his soul crushed. Keep silent about things that do not concern you, boy."
Helia looked down at his plate and reached out for his goblet of wine, finishing off the deep red beverage, desperately wanting to leave the table and conversation. He thought that his father had been proud of him but Helia soon quickly found how mistaken he was. Helia knew that his father appreciated strength above all else and Helia had shown it this afternoon. But when Helia looked down at the man that he had left bloodied and broken, he had never been more disgusted with himself. He was no longer angry, but he felt weak.
But he would do it all over again until his father saw him as a son worthy of his praises. He would do anything to be the man that his father wanted him to be; to be like Duncan.
Helia did not speak the rest of the night and he had not been asked to. He ate and he drank and drank and drank. Saladin would yell at him for it in the morning and Helia would continue to ignore him. Maybe he and the handmaiden weren't so different. She ignored Helia's warning and Helia always ignored Saladin. But Helia knew that he was right and Flora should have listened to him. Though he supposed that Saladin might also be right. But Helia was the Crown Prince of Hademort and Saladin was nothing more than a palace servant. Helia didn't have to listen to the things that the old man said.
As Helia drank, the sounds of his father and Duncan slowly began to disappear and soon, his father had instructed for Helia to leave, Duncan staying behind. Helia was used to it on the rare occasions he was invited to these dinners. Helia would always be asked to leave and Duncan would stay. Like Duncan was Azrael's son and not Helia.
Helia stood up and gave his father a bow before silently leaving the table and then the room. He did his best to not stagger as he walked out but the minute that the door shut behind him, Helia turned around and put his back against the wall.
He stared out of the large window on the opposite wall of his father's door. The sky was black and the Dearil Mountains were illuminated by the moon on the opposite side of the castle. It was now July and while the snow hadn't been as thick, the country was still covered in the cold blanket of white. Snow. Every day, the kingdom of Hademort was covered in it and Helia could not escape. The only thing colder than the winter nights of Hademort was his father.
Hearing voices in the hallway, Helia stood up and began to walk towards his room. He passed a pair of female servants, their voices soft and filled with sadness as they approached the prince. They were silent as Helia passed them. They stood off to the side and gave him a low bow; Helia ignored them. He needed to get to his room.
He continued to march, the disappointment of his father's voice playing in his head on repeat. The way that his father praised him and then turned around to scold him again like some child, reminding him of his place. The way that Duncan and Azrael talked about Krystal and her handmaiden. The sound of Duncan's laugh as he talked about his "target" and the way that his father had encouraged it.
Reaching his room, Helia swung open the large wooden door and slammed it behind him. The sound of the slamming door echoing off of the cold stone floors and walls. Why was everything in Hademort so fucking cold? Helia stumbled to the fireplace, the only source of heat in his room beside the furs and blankets that were laid on his bed. Helia knelt down in front of the fire and placed his hands in front of the warmth, sighing as the heat hit his hands, ignoring the burning feeling that came after.
Helia reached up and took his hair down from his topknot, the style that he wore it in when he was trying to appease his father. He shook his long hair, cursing the way it fell in his face but when he had it short, he looked too much like his father. Perhaps his father would like it if he kept his hair short? Helia brushed his hair away from his face and put it in a low ponytail, hanging off of his shoulder. He undid the ties of his black shirt, once again, wearing black because his father would like it. Another futile attempt to make his father happy. Maybe his father would have liked it better if he had come with his clothes stained with the blood of another soldier or a Korian Paladin. Yes, he could see it now. His pale skin covered with the blood of his father's enemies. The screaming of the men as he struck them down and the wailing of their wives and children.
No. Helia could hear the screams. He could feel the blood. He could see his father's smiling face in his head. It did not help that when Helia looked down at his hand, he was reminded of what he had done earlier that day. His father's face was replaced with the swollen and bruised face of the man he had punched and punched and punched earlier that day.
All because of her.
Why did she have to come with the princess? Why did Krystal have to bring her? Helia could have gone his whole life without hearing the sound of her laugh, the sound of her voice when she sang, the sight of her smile, those green eyes, the curves of her body...
But now he didn't know how he could live without it.
Helia rose to his feet and stumbled over to the small table with the silver tray, the crystal glasses, and the glass bottle full of whiskey. He poured himself a glass and brought the crystal glace up to his face, examining every facet of the clear glass. The way that the moonlight reflected off the glass and how the light of the fire made the whiskey look like it was on fire. Helia brought the glass to his lips and threw the entirety of whiskey in the glass down his throat, enjoying the burn.
He poured himself another glass, not caring about the consequences in the morning. Why should he care? Nothing mattered anyways. His father would always be disappointed, Saladin would always tell him that he could be "better", Duncan would still be his father's favorite. The son that he always wanted. The man who always got what he wanted. The man who would get Flora.
Helia looked down at the glass freshly filled again with whiskey and in the amber liquid, he saw his face. The face that looked like his father. The face of a disappointment. Possibly the last face that the man saw before Helia made sure that he saw nothing again. A face filled with rage, hate, and desperation. Desperation to be accepted and loved. Instead, it was a face of all the things that he hated.
Gripping the crystal glass tight in his hand, Helia threw the full glass into the fire. The glass smashed against the stone wall behind the fire, the fire exploding in front of him with the added fuel of the whiskey. Helia grabbed the bottle of whiskey and put the opening up to his mouth, taking a long gulp of the alcohol, wiping his sweaty face with the back of his hand.
"Keep silent about things that don't concern you, boy."
Helia couldn't get his father's voice out of his head.
"You know that I always get the job done, Your Majesty. Both on and off the battlefield."
Duncan's voice soon replaced his father's.
"I wasn't talking about Princess Krystal."
He could see Saladin's smug and insignificant smirk.
Finally, it was the sound of Flora's sweet laughter that filled his head. The way that she doted on the young princess and the unconditional love that she had shown her. She had put up with his father and Duncan on her first night in the palace. Did not complain when she was cold on their journey back to the palace. She didn't listen to the rumors about him, hoping for the best and all he had shown her was how terrible he could be.
Helia covered his ears, hoping to rid the sounds of the constant reminders of how upsetting he was and the reminders of all the things that could not be his. The cacophony in his head became overwhelming and soon all he saw once again was red. Red like the color of his alcohol flushed skin. Red like the color of the blood on his knuckles.
He took another drink from the bottle of whiskey before throwing it against the wall. Whiskey splattered on the blanket on his bed and on the large window. He grabbed the metal candle holder and threw it against the wall. He grabbed anything that he could find and hurled it at the stone wall of his room. A wall that never did anything to him other than be part of the palace he felt was his prison. He threw and threw, yelling out with every throw that soon became mixed with the sounds of clanging metal and shattered glass and crystal.
Strands of hair fell in front of his sweaty face. Once cold, Helia was now hot. Burning up and desperate to cool off. He quickly removed his shirt, pulling the fabric over his head and throwing it to a corner where shards of crystal made the stone floor look like it had been covered with diamonds. His pale chest heaved as he panted, tired yet still full of rage. Everything was still covered in a haze of red.
It was like he was still stuck in the fog and desperately searching for a way out.
Grabbing the last crystal glass on the silver tray, Helia held it tightly in his hand and spun around. He hurled the glass to the wall by the wooden door. Shards of crystal flying through the air, a high-pitched smash meeting a high-pitched yelp. Blue fabric, brown hair, tan skin, and scared green eyes.
Shit.
The fog quickly disappeared. Helia continued to pant. His chest rising and falling as he looked at the woman in front of him.
"Flora..."