“We all had to fall and get back up at the beginning of our lives. Ethan just has to learn to do it again,” Stefan replied.
“Yes. He’s inept at doing what even a toddler can,” Elijah said.
“Do you think this is easy?” I hissed at him. “Would you like to switch me places, and find out just how maddening this is to endure?”
Since my father had died, Elijah had been intolerable to deal with. His behavior had started to become dismal in the months prior, but at latest, he’d been reduced to a sniveling, whining brat, always lamenting about the country and in what a poor state it was in from my father’s policies. I’d been putting up with it for some time now, but now that my father was dead, I was far past accepting his griping. He needed to learn some reverence for the dead.
“You’re always complaining about how hard it is to get around,” Elijah spat. “Don’t you think the rest of us are sick of it? Do you think of anyone but yourself, for once?”
I knew what it was, now. Elijah hated illness. He thought it weak. That I’d become an amputee had shamed the family, in his eyes.
This caused something broken between us that I was certain would never heal.
“Would you prefer that I had died?” I spat.
“Yes,” Elijah seethed as he got to his feet. “To be perfectly honest, I would’ve. At least your memory would’ve remained intact.”
Stefan rose to his full height. He crossed the room in a few strides and towered over Elijah. “I could take a leg of yours,” he taunted. “Or two, or perhaps your arms as well, and your eyes. In fact, I think I could snap that ugly little head straight off your neck. Ethan is still your prince. Give him the respect he deserves, before I decide to make your body an offering to the gods.”
Elijah’s eye twitched. I was sure they were about to fight, until Elijah let out a skeptical sound and pushed Stefan away from him. “You can have your cripple. I have better things to do.”
His words wounded me deeply. Elijah punched the door on his way out, and it was left hanging open. Stefan dragged me to an armchair, which I sank into with despair.
This was hopeless. Elijah was right. I was of no more use to the country, not like this.
Lord Lucien appeared in the door. He stared at my pitiless and sad form. His expression bore no sympathy, but he merely raised an eyebrow.
“This will not do,” Lord Lucien said. “Tomorrow morning, you will meet me in the palace arena, and we will train.”
“I cannot.” My voice was hollow and empty.
“You will,” Lucien said in a fiery manner. “I will not accept excuses. Get some rest, for tomorrow, you will need it.”
He left me. Stefan cast a wary glance, and I said, “He is a fool. I won’t go.”
Yet I knew as I turned in for the night that I would. I would meet Lord Lucien at dawn, and he would teach me to fight once more. Whether he would be successful was yet to be seen, but I had failed my whole kingdom. I could not fail again without at least attempting to rectify my mistakes.
Elijah didn’t wish me alive. But there were some that still found value in what I had become.
If Lord Lucien believed in me, I could not, for the gods’ sakes, let him down.
I awokefrom the dream drenched in sweat. I wiped my brow, and found it ice cold, though the disturbing memories continued to haunt my waking moments.
I shook myself out of it. Damn these cursed remnants of my past. I didn’t know why they continued to stalk my dreams.
I forced myself out of bed and to the wardrobe, flinging it open. Getting dressed was more or less a distraction from what my mind had conjured, but with a glance at the clock, I saw I was late. We were having brunch with Emma’s grandparents today, to celebrate our engagement, and I certainly didn’t want to ruin the day with recollections of what had been. I did my best to put it out of my mind, and left it at that.
News had already traveled around Malovia of our intention to be wed. With my article gaining all the attention in the country, and my proposal the day after, I’m sure it looked to Elijah that Emma and I were swaying public favor our way.
I hadn’t planned it to happen that way, but perhaps it was best it did. The country was buzzing with excitement, but I hardly cared. All I desired was for Emma to be my bride, and now, I had her. A happier man than I couldn’t have been found in all the world, I was sure.
“Are you all right?” Emma asked as I took her hand, to begin the walk to Dolinska. Arthur was meeting us there.
“A poor sleep,onawilke,” I told her. “Nothing to worry over.”
I kissed her hair, and her questions faded. I was content she wasn’t prying. I did not wish to linger over memories of my cousin that had long gone sour.
I was very thankful for the french toast, croissant sandwiches, and eggs benedict Faylin had prepared, as excellent food was always a welcome comfort. Emma indulged herself with mimosas and chatted with Arthur about wedding plans, of which we had none.
