Prologue

"Let me go!" Kyo yelled, "I have just as much right to be here as Arima." He pulled free from the guard's grasp and ran into the throne room.

Kyo was uncontrollable; the guards backed away in terror, never having seen him so furious. The throne room was in disarray, chairs toppled over, and servants cowering in the corner.

"Come out father, I know you're here. Why won't you see me? I'm your son; am I not as good as Arima?" Kyo thundered. He stood in the middle of the one place he loathed to be and yet desperately desired to stand, not by himself, but by his father's side as his legitimate son. The beautifully tapestry covered walls, soft cushions and paintings had always been a reminder of everything he could never have.

"What has come over you, that you would turn my court into such and uproar?" Lord Yomatsu asked solemnly, as he stormed into the throne room, his robes billowing behind him. "I will not tolerate this behavior, not from a half breed like you, and not in my home."

"I'm your son; you cannot ignore me just because you think that it will suit your purposes Father!" Kyo shot back furiously. He turned to see Ayame and Arima peeking in from a door at the back of the room. The moment they realized he knew they were listening, they slammed the door shut.

"You may be my son, but you are not the number one son. You will do as you are told and stay where you belong."

"I am just as good a son as Arima. You had no right to tear Ayame and me apart."

"Ayame is the daughter of Lord Ikedo; her marriage has been arranged to Arima since birth. That you two chose to ignore this fact is inconsequential." His father replied. His voice held no warmth, and his words were void of feeling just as Kyo knew they would be.

"I will be just as good a son as Arima, you'll see. I am going to become the greatest warrior in the Kingdom. Then you'll have to accept me!" Kyo yelled bitterly. Turning away from his father, tears ran down Kyo's face and he clenched the sword in his hands harder. There was no turning back now and he knew it. He would never be accepted here, not until he gained the respect of everyone. One day I'll come back as a great warrior, then perhaps I'll be worthy of father's love, and Ayame's.

Walking out of the throne room, Kyo picked up his bag and hugged his sister Miyu goodbye. He bent down and looked at her. Miyu's face was stained with tears and her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Kyo's heart broke as he saw his sister's distress.

"Don't worry Miyu. I'll come back one day; I promise." Kyo told her solemnly, trying his best not to upset her further. "I love you little sister, I will always come back for you."

Miyu nodded sadly and stepped back from him. The room was cold, and she shivered as she watched him leave. Kyo held his head high as he walked from the castle, into the courtyard. A woman's voice call out to him from behind, and Kyo turned around his heart leaping in his chest. Ayame stood at the castle door, tears streaming down her face.

"Don't leave!" she cried, "Not now, not like this."

"Come with me Ayame, we can leave together." Kyo called back his heart thundering in his ears.

"You know I can't; I have to be here, I'm supposed to be married to Arima in a fortnight." Ayame replied, and with a sob, she ran to him from the castle throwing her self into his arms. "You have to forget about me. I can never be with you no matter how much you or I want too. It is not our fate for it to be so."

"How can it not be our fate Aya?"

"I must do as my father and your father will. I have always been promised to marry Arima; I cannot love you." She said quietly, and let go of his kimono. "You must never say you love me again, I cannot return it." She said coldly as she walked away.

Kyo stood in shock, unable to believe that the woman he loved would choose his brother over him, just as his father had. From that moment on Kyo's heart was nothing more than stone: cold, hard and heavy. He would never return, not unless he could stand before his father and show him that he was a worthy son, one whom he could be proud of, a son just as good as Arima.