(Author's Note: I haven't had much time to sit still and write. But here's a short chapter on Alvah and Jun's relationship. You have to wonder how distant King Tamir is with his children if Jun doesn't trust him in his own route. Like jeez, maybe get some family counseling instead of fighting each other with swords? Anyway, thank you guys for reading, waiting, commenting, etc. It means a lot of me. A longer chapter will be coming soon.)

Chapter 20

The strength of Alvah's memory wasn't in his ability to recall details as they happened. Instead, it was in remembering how he felt about them. Despite his young age at the time, when most childhood memories became blurry patches of random occurrences, he remembered very clearly the day he returned to the palace. He remembered how it felt shaded with something wrong. He remembered the feeling of paralyzing fear when he and Jun were snatched in the street by some unknown adult and carried to a house nearby. They knew the drill and what it meant; that there were bad people nearby and they had to stay hidden. He remembered the how hard it was to breathe in the musty air of the damp cellar they had been thrown in. But he couldn't cough, he couldn't gasp, he couldn't sigh, he couldn't do anything that might be heard.

He and Jun held hands and swallowed their fear as they waited for it to be over. Sometimes it was just a few moments. Other times, it was a few hours. Rarely was it days. He remembered the only thing he liked about those times were falling asleep on the dirt floor and waking up in his mother's arms as if it had all been a bad dream. He also remembered the small shards of guilt whenever he looked over at Jun, who had not woken up not in the arms of his mother, but alone. The growing rift between himself and Jun had started long before the succession.

When the cellar door opened and they were pulled out, he didn't mistakenly believe that the crisis was over. He knew, could feel, something was amiss. A stranger held their hands and walked them into the street at a mournful pace. He held tighter, moved closer to Jun. The look on his brother's face was awash with the same calm panic. His brows were furrowed in confusion and anger, his tears ready to fall. They were being turned in, but why? Hadn't these people, this town, sworn to protect him? His face was beginning to redden at the thought of this betrayal. Alvah grabbed onto his brother's arm and walked in front of him. Should anything happen, he thought he would gladly go first.

He thought his fear had peaked when he saw his mother ahead of them, embracing some stranger in tears. He knew he was from the palace by the way he looked and the clothes he wore. He was every image of what he thought royalty looked like. What business did this prince have with his mother? Had he made her cry? Was she pleading for their lives? Was he a friend who would help them? Was he taking them somewhere else to hide? Perhaps there were flashes of anger as best he could recall. They were mixed with paranoia, with fleeting thoughts of running away or trying to fight. Recollection came last, if had come at all. He didn't know when he realized this man was his father. He remembered thinking that he had no memory of his face, his voice, or his scrutinizing eyes. He held no feeling for him but apprehension.

He remembered how wrong it felt when he was made to let go of Jun's hand. He and his mother were taken to sit in a waiting car but he refused to sit still. That prince who had called himself his father had taken Jun and went back inside. He asked his mother what was happening, wanted to know why, what was going to happen. All he was told was to be patient. The uneasy feeling grew. When the strange man returned without Jun, he asked him but got no answer. When the car started moving, he began to plead. He tried to explain it as best as he could that Jun was his brother. Why were they leaving him behind? Where were they going that he could not? His mother assured him that they would see him again. That perhaps he could join them later. She had said the words questioningly and glanced towards the prince but he gave no response.

He remembered his forced smile upon reuniting with his other brothers. They were strangers to him after so long but he had been told to try his best to get along with them. Melchiorre never stayed on task when they played together. Lambert was often pulled away and made to study instead. He happily played with Nagit despite their wide age gap but the toddler prince was quick to tire and even quicker to throw tantrums. Chezem preferred quiet reading, but he could be convinced to play along often enough that Alvah stuck close by him as a result.

But he never gave up asking for Jun. Day after day, he never failed to mention to his mother that he was still waiting for him to join them. He could begin to sense her desperation in the way she smiled whenever she mentioned his name but he refused to yield.

He smiled brightest the day Jun was finally brought to live at the palace. He ran for his brother and tackled him in a hug the moment he got out of the car. When the gesture wasn't returned, when Jun's own smile didn't appear, that shadowy feeling of something wrong returned. He told himself that perhaps he was just nervous. He shrugged it off and led Jun around the palace. He showed him all the things he had seen and learned in their time apart. He took him to the menagerie to laugh at the funny animals that were kept there. He took him to the gardens to stare in awe at the sculpted hedges and field of flowers. He took him to the kitchens to taste decadent desserts, given to them on the sly by doting maids if he asked innocently enough. He even made a daring attempt to tease the scary butler then run as fast as he could as he thought it might make Jun cheer up. But nothing he tried seemed to work.'It'll get easier' is what he told himself. Jun would warm up again in time.

They walked past the throne room on the way back to their room and took a passing glance inside. His father, now their father he thought, was seated on his throne in front of a small crowd. They got along better once Alvah got to know him. He gave him gifts, praised him when he did well in his studies, and sometimes even joined him in his games. He didn't dislike him at all. But as he caught sight of him as through the doors, an unpleasant feeling of bitterness rose in his chest. His smile waned and he held tighter to Jun's hand. King or not, father or not, no one would make him let go of his brother again.