Prince Godwin got into his bed and hid under the covers. He wept for longer, then dried his tears by vowing one day he’d get revenge on Stroke and his father.

  “Godwin,” Stroke called, knocking on the door. “I’ve a present for you at the top of Keep Blacksteel. Do you want to come?”

  He mocks me, Godwin thought. This is the worst day of my life. It can’t get any worse.

  “Go away,” Godwin moaned. “I hate you.”

  Stroke slowly opened the door and took the covers off of his brother. Godwin had two black eyes, dried tears on his cheeks.

  “Did father do this to you?” Stroke asked. “Godwin. Talk to me. I can help.”

  “No, you can’t!” Godwin wailed. “You didn’t see what I saw! You’re two years younger; you can’t help me!”

  While true, Stroke hated seeing his brother like that. “He’s with that slender woman again, isn’t he?” Stroke asked. “The one with golden hair all over her body, different coloured eyes.”

  “You know?” Godwin asked. “Why didn’t he beat you for it?”

  “I didn’t let him see me,” Stroke said. “It was a surprise… but, Bianca is waiting for you. Come with me. I’ll show you the path up to it.”

  Waiting for me? Godwin thought. Why would she be waiting for me? She kissed him. Are they trying to embarrass me?

  Stroke didn’t take no as answer, dragging his brother out of the bed by his ear and forcing him to follow him. Godwin had to get on his brother’s back to get up the sloped roof, which he hated doing, but he felt he had no choice. With Godwin’s weight, Stroke almost lost his balance but still managed.

  “She’s just around the corner of this roof,” Stroke said. “She’s excited to see you.”

  No one is ever excited to see me, Godwin thought. I just want this day to be over and done with.

  Godwin had a dark thought to shove Stroke off the ledge as he trailed behind. He felt his hand move on its own, hovering an inch from his brother’s shoulder.

  “Godwin!” Bianca exclaimed. “You decided to come! I didn’t think you’d come up here.”

  The prince shamefully hid his hand behind his back. “Oh—yeah, of course I’d come to see you. Did you get my flowers? I left them for you in your room as an apology for the dove.”

  “I got them,” Biance said. “They were nice.”

  She did see them, he thought. And she kissed Stroke anyway. They brought me up here to shame me.

  Godwin’s hesitation made Stroke explain the misunderstanding that Bianca had mistaken the flowers as Stroke’s gift. His brother neglected to mention the kiss, which made Godwin have no trust in his brother’s words. He sat with Bianca, shrugging with a sigh.

  “Go ahead, make your jokes about me,” Godwin said. “Then get me down off this roof. I’m tired.”

  Bianca closed her eyes.

  “What’s she doing?” Godwin asked Stroke. “You two brought me up here to make fun of me, didn’t you?”

  “What? Of course not. Do me a favour, blink.”

  Godwin blinked, and Stroke was gone without a trace. He felt confused, not understanding where his brother had gone.

  “So, you got me flowers,” Bianca said. “You admire me… is that true? You should, uh—tell me what you admire.”

  Bianca was repeating things that Stroke had suggest she should say. Her confident fa?ade quickly crumbled. “Uh—I mean uh, it was you who got the flowers, wasn’t it? I don’t want to repeat what just happened.” She put her hand onto Godwin’s knuckles. “It was nice of you to think of me like that. Thank you. I think… I think I feel the same way about you.”

  Godwin pulled his hand away, offended. “You kissed Stroke.”

  “I—you saw that?” she said. “No… listen, it was a mistake.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “You hid the fact from me. This is all some joke.”

  Bianca leaned forward. “No. Kiss me. I promise it’s not.” She grabbed his cheek. “I’m serious. I don’t know how to do it. Show me how to do it.”

  He smacked her hand away. “Even if it was true, I want you to like me because I’m me, not because I got you flowers. You chose him. Why him, not me?”

  “Godwin, I’m choosing you.”

  “No, you’re not,” he hissed. “When you see Stroke, tell him I never want to see him again. He’s a bad brother.”

  Godwin stood up too quickly in his anger, slipping off the ledge. Bianca caught his hand before he fell, grabbing onto a gargoyle and yelling for Stroke to come and help.

  “Just let me go,” Godwin mumbled. “I don’t care.”

  “Don’t be an idiot! Stop it! Stroke! I need help!”

  Godwin didn’t scream once. He didn’t care if he fell. He hated the life he was living; he hated his father; he hated everything. He closed his eyes, accepting death at the young age he was at. When Bianca blinked, a second hand grabbed Godwin’s other wrist.

  “Godwin, help us pull you up,” Stroke said. “Don’t fall, or I’ll fall with you. I’ll never let you go.”

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  The prince looked down at the long fall and quickly came to his senses, allowing himself to be pulled back onto the ledge. He remained silent as Stroke brought them all down the sloped roof and into the safety of Bianca’s room.

  Bianca felt horrible, chasing after Godwin into the hall as he stormed away from his brother.

  “Godwin!” she yelled. “I meant it! Please come back!”

  “Stay away from me, leave me alone! I want nothing to do with you,” he lied. “You chose him, not me!”

  The little prince sulked in his chambers for an hour before he decided to venture out of his room under nightfall. He sought out his mother, Faith Valan, looking for advice, but found her already in the company of Stroke, Runaya, Bianca, and Harren.

  A midnight walk? I’m always invited to these… why wasn’t I given an invite this time?

  He overheard Bianca explaining to his mother what happened at the top of Keep Blacksteel. Faith scolded Stroke for climbing past the curfew but told him she wouldn’t tell his father.

  “Whore!” Harren yelled. “Trying to kiss more than one boy? That makes you a whore!”

  Faith smacked her son across the mouth. “Harren Valan, who taught you the meaning of that word?”

  “The whores did!” Harren snicked. “The ones with the great big tits and arses!”

  She smacked him again. “You should not know those words, young man.”

  “It’s not my fault Bianca is a whore.”

  Stroke pounced on his brother and began to beat him. Faith separated her boys, but Harren fled to his chambers with defeated groans, muttering every slur he’d learned from Vatanil’s streets.

  “You should never fight your brothers,” Faith said. “I don’t want you to take Godwin to the top of Keep Blacksteel ever again. You have never fell, but he has proven he will. Bianca, my son loves in a strange way. He will come around if you are patient.”

  “Godwin is nice,” Runaya whispered. “He’s a good choice for you… I’m sure he’s sweet.”

  “But there’s no thinking too hard about that stuff yet,” Faith said with a laugh. “You’re still only children. One more lap of the castle then I want you three off to bed. You’ll apologise to Harren when the morning comes.”

  “But he wasn’t nice to Bianca,” Stroke complained.

  “That doesn’t matter. He is your brother. You should always love your brothers, they’re some of the only things you’ll have when me and your father are gone.”

  Godwin snuck around the castles and into the kitchens. He was caught by the servants, but what were they going to say to the prince of the castle they worked in? They asked if he needed anything, and the prince asked bluntly for one thing: a small blade.

  The servants couldn’t say no the command. They gave Godwin a small knife meant for cutting meat, then returned to their nightly conversations after the prince left.

  I’ve never been trusted with a knife outside of curfew… this isn’t that sharp, he thought. Why did I ask for this? I don’t know what I’m doing… maybe I should just go to bed.

  He remembered Stroke kissing Bianca, feeling angrier than he’d felt upon seeing it, then marched to Harren’s chambers.

  “The fuck do you want?” Harren snarled. “Fuck out of here, you whore. Whore. Whore.”

  “You look bruised,” Godwin whispered.

  “So do you,” Harren growled, then his tone softened. “Those look like they’re from father. You probably deserved it.”

  “And yours look like they’re from Stroke.”

  Harren didn’t confirm or deny, but Godwin already knew. He showed Harren the knife from the kitchens and gave it to him.

  “What’s this for?” Harren asked. “Is this why father beat you?”

  Godwin ominously left without another word. He hid around a corner, peeking at Harren, who swung the knife at the air, pretending to stab somebody.

  Why did I do that? Godwin thought. I’m so angry. I regret giving him that knife. If I go and get it back, I think he’ll stab me.

  Harren shut the door to his chambers and ran in the direction opposite, laughing hysterically. Godwin gave chase, worrying about what he’d unleashed. He heard screams, ones of immense pain, then found Stroke and Harren duelling each other while Faith tried to wrap a deep wound on Runaya’s forearm.

  “Harren, get off your brother! I’m telling your father about this!”

  “Fuck you!” Harren yelled. “This is what you deserve!” He put the knife deep into Stroke’s thigh and headbutted his nose. “I’ll kill you! I hate you! I HATE YOU!”

  Harren raised the knife over Stroke’s heart. He brought it down, but Stroke grabbed his wrist, the tip piercing the skin by an inch.

  “Get off me!” Stroke pushed his brother off and then disarmed him with a kick from his good leg. “Are you insane?”

  “Pussy,” Harren mocked. “C’mon, I’ll kill you with my bare hands. Come on! You’re nothing!”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Godric boomed.

  Harren felt true fear. His body froze, staring at his approaching father like a frightened deer.

  “Harren stabbed our littlest,” Faith yelled, “and slashed Runaya across the arm! Discipline him! You’re supposed to be his father!”

  “No, it wasn’t me!” Harren lied. “It was Godwin! He stabbed my brother! Don’t lie!”

  “You’re a terrible liar; your brother isn’t even here!” Godric screamed. “Come here. Now.”

  Harren inched closer. The father called for the guards. Two came quick, as did a third, giant guard.

  “You two, hold my son down,” he told the guards. “Make sure he doesn’t squirm. A beating for this isn’t enough. He needs to know his place in this castle.”

  “Get off me!” Harren yelled at the guards. “I’m a prince, let go of me! I’ll kill all of you!”

  “Godric, what are you planning?” Faith asked. “He needs to be punished, but not like this.”

  “Shut up woman.” Godric ordered for one of the guards to pull one of Harren’s arms away from his body. “This little shit has had this coming for a long time.” He pointed to the third guard. “Killian, dog, give me your sword.”

  “Yes, my king,” Killian said smugly. “My pleasure.”

  He gave Godric his giant sword. Faith tried to argue for Harren, but she was silenced by his order. Out the corner of his eye, Godric say Godwin cowering.

  “Peeping where you shouldn’t be, Godwin,” he snarled. “Move out from behind that pillar. Watch closely. This is what happens to those that cause trouble in these walls.”

  “Please! It wasn’t me!” Harren lied. “It wasn’t! It wasn’t!”

  “Godric, this is barbaric, even for you,” Faith yelled. “Let me give the boy a punishment.”

  “Silence. He must learn.”

  Little Prince Harren could only scream as his father gave out a punishment that couldn’t be undone. Steel met stone, the prince’s arm was cut at the elbow by a blade so sharp it took Harren five seconds to realise his arm was gone.

  “AGHHHH, AGHHHH. FUCK,” Harren yelled. “Where is—oh—fucking—whores… whores…”

  Harren passed out from shock.

  “Godric, what did you do?” Faith screamed. “Gods… what did you do to our son! You damned fool!” She slapped her husband’s chest. “Release my son, you monsters.”

  “Let him suffer with his injury. If he dies, he dies. He’s old enough to make his own choices and learn the consequences.” Godric struck his wife when she picked up Harren and tried to leave, grabbing his son’s hair and dragging him out her northerly hold. He shoved Harren’s fresh stump into Godwin’s face.

  “This is what happens to boys who misbehave,” he said. “Ones that don’t keep their mouth shut.”