For as long as Zier remembered, Coris had always been the prodigy, and he the putz.

True, he came out on top (out of two) when it came to swordplay, riding, archery, and not ripping the seams of the shape-hugging men's legwear, but considering any knight or yeoman serving his father would achieve the same and more, those weren't boast-worthy credentials.

Coris excused his physical shortcomings and obnoxiousness by excelling in all the arts thrown at him; strategy, negotiation, leadership, sciences, and philosophy.

Linguistics was his forte, however. He'd always had a way with runes, words and languages. Whether he was weaving scathing similes to describe intellectual inferiors—namely Zier, delivering an opening speech to a banquet, penning a heartrending eulogy for a fallen knight, impressing a Tyldornian emissary with a snippet of their tongue, or most recently, negotiating hostages with a dangerous Nostran mercenary—Things Zier could never imagine himself doing.

However, what Zier himself and everyone who knew him didn't appreciate enough was that Zier could be as cunning and eloquent as Coris—Well, when certain things disturbed him enough for him to put his mind and mouth to solving.

For example, preventing his overtly righteous sweetheart from marrying his brother.

----------------------------------------

Coris led Mother into the room and held the door for her. As she swept past him towards Father, who sat behind the oaken desk at the heart of the study, Coris glanced at Zier. And, in that fleeting glimpse, a chill rushed down Zier's spine.

Cold fury boiled underneath his serene, benign silver. Zier realized he'd been too late. No, he'd misstepped. He may have reached Father first, but that was because Arinel chose to hurry to Coris. Then again...

Truth belongs to he who speaks first.

Coris gave Zier those words, that night in the secret passageway where he stumbled upon Zier having just swallowed The Axel. He then admitted to Father he tried to steal The Axel. His wisdom proved true, as six years had passed, and Coris still held that truth fast in his clammy hands.

The same goes for Zier now. Since he'd spoken to Father first, Coris would know better than to challenge his version of the latest heist. The truth was of his design. Coris must work with what he left on the table.

Silence fell as sire and heir locked eyes, then the heir broke it,

"About the heist two nights ago, Father, I'd been meaning to report to you once the guests have left."

Coris cut to the chase as if he'd been with them from the start, always an expert at reading whatever room he was in. His smile was gentle, and his eyes twinkled,

"I simply would rather discuss our most dangerous secret while our every move isn't under foreign ears and eyes, but now it seems as if I had planned to fool you for as long as I dared."

"And thanks to your brother, only you and Freda will ever know for which you had intended," Father cocked his head at Zier, who blushed, then sighed heavily, frowning, "Nevertheless, you know you must alert me at once when the matter concerns The Axel. Yet, you kept it secret. I can only assume you fear for Arinel. Or yourself."

Zier's breath caught in his chest. It was as if Father had read their memories. Coris merely smiled sardonically as he faced Father's narrowed eyes.

"Justifiably so. Considering what happened to the last man who coveted The Axel."

"I would never harm you. I was trying to protect you!" Father sprang to his feet. Coris still smiled,

"Alas, only you and Freda will ever know for which you had intended." He wielded Father's words against him. Mother caught Father as he faltered, glowering at her smug son.

"You truly didn't wish I'd died then, Father? My uses are few in life, bound to The Axel. What is a fat, spoilt brat compared to our greatest treasure? You alone know. All I have is a guess. My guesses tend to be right."

Zier gaped at the pale figure beside him, just as unnerved as he was guilty. Coris was probably trying to derail the conversation, deflect suspicion from Zier by offending Father, painting himself a monster as he usually did. Yet, he was emotionless, mechanical, and so nonchalant was his smile, Zier couldn't imagine it being just an act or a spite; it was too perfect.

A crack opened in the gray before the ice closed again. Zier realized then; it was a lie and the truth, an unconscious cry for help. Did Father and Mother catch it, too?

Father pursed his lips as he breathed deeply, regaining his calm. He straightened, his hand closed over Mother's in reassurance.

"If you believe ill of those who wish you blessings, they will in time believe the worst of you in kind," said Father solemnly. His eyes narrowed again with fury, "Do you mean to say you stole The Axel for Graye because you didn't trust my judgment? Not to please Agnesia?"

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Perhaps, Father." Coris tilted his head, "More consistent with the monster who razed Cristoria to ash. Also, I'd rather you kill me a foe than spare me a fool, if I may choose."

Silence fell as Coris alone chuckled at his dark humor. Father gritted his teeth, shaking his head slowly,

"You can build the mightiest wall with mortar and stone and bones of steel, and discord will bring it down swifter than dragonfire," He said softly,

"You've proven that with your enemies, yet you have no faith in your kin. That is why you fail. So long as you refuse to trust, it's no longer wise to trust you with The Axel's protection."

The room was rid of air as if swept by a storm. Coris was wide-eyed with shock for once. Father sat down and pulled a half-written letter towards him, dipped his falcon-feather quill into his inkwell, and continued it,

"The Axel's secret has been compromised." He said without looking up, "After the May Fest, you are to leave with your wife for Manor Safyre. I'll have Baroness Norena stock Villa Lapis with a moon's supply of Safyre's best mead. You are to return once Lady Arinel has conceived your child."

That last part wasn't what Zier had suggested. Coris blinked, then his sickly cheeks flushed to healthy red,

"But I'm barren, Father! How am I supposed to impregnate her? Do you plan to exile me?" He snapped, arms flailing in exasperation.

"Again! You believe the worst of me, Coris!" Father shot back to his feet. His knuckles shone white as he jabbed a weathered finger at the letter, "You can never be sure if you're barren. For all we know, Arinel might be carrying your child as we speak!"

"How could she when I haven't lain with her once?" Coris retorted. Zier hastily corrected him,

"Brother, about that—"

Coris whipped around. As it dawned on him, his face turned deeper red. He glanced between Mother and Father, eyes bulging with disbelief and hurt.

"You spied on our First Night?" He rasped, "I thought we'd abolished that embarrassing rite decades ago. And you chided me for distrusting you?"

"If you so loathe us keeping watch over you, might I suggest not manipulating your own parents with secrets and lies?"

Father raised an eyebrow, his cool simmering with fury. Coris tensed in alarm. Father's eyes narrowed,

"I understand you being against the marriage. What I don't understand is going behind mine and Lord Crosset's backs to rescue Arinel." Father shook his head with a frustrated sigh, "You're eighteen, Coris! What do you know about what would be best for her?"

"I don't. And I never will." Coris snarled through gritted teeth. His lips twisted into a scornful smirk, "I simply hoped to give her what her father's never given her, what you've never given Zier and I—A choice!"

Coris shouted. Father fell silent, figuratively and literally thrown against his chair's backrest. He watched as Coris plowed on as if possessed, fists clenched at his sides as he paced,

"From the day I was born, I've been Corien Alexis Hadrian. The heir of Hadrian. Guardian of The Axel. I didn't have the choice to surrender the duty, because I was born for it. I didn't have the choice of who I wanted to become, because of what Hadrian expects me to be. Even if I did have a choice, I wouldn't have the wisdom to decide because the Baron Hadrian alone is trusted with the secret of The Axel!"

Coris spun around, his sunken chest heaving as he glared at Father in the silence. Father held his gaze for a moment that felt as long as a lifetime. The depths of his blue eyes were dark as the dead of night, wreathed in sorrow. He shook his head, his eyes never leaving,

"I guard this secret alone, not because I did not trust you." He whispered,

"I ask you to trust while you still not know. For once you've known, you can only choose. Choice is a privilege and a burden. You will live to the day I pass this burden to you, to carry alone as I did. I just wish to delay that day for as long as I can."

Coris's lips trembled as his eyes shone overbright in the gentle rays of late morning sunshine. Then, he blinked, and his empty smile replaced his anguish. He shook his head,

"I'll die soon, Father. You know that."

With that, he turned on his heel as if to signal his leave, his shoulders trembling from the sheer effort of stifling his grief,

"I should hurry to share the good news with Arinel. She'd be most thrilled. A romantic retreat would do well to heal lingering trauma from the heist."

He strode towards the door, paused as if swept by an afterthought, then turned back for one last word,

"By the way, I'd prefer it if Zier accompanies me."

Zier jolted. Coris spared him a glance out of the corner of his eye. Zier was chilled by the cold steel lining his smile, the glint of a poisoned arrowhead in his stormy gray.

"The road to Safyre is an arduous one, but at the end lies two prosperous towns, each with a unique culture. He'd learn much along the way and there. I also don't mind the extra security."

Zier's mouth fell open in horrified awe. In three sentences, Coris had obliterated Zier's elaborate scheme to get Arinel alone to himself while Coris was ten days away on horseback.

Father nodded, likely for lack of energy to argue than reason to refute,

"Zier, you accompany your brother." Father turned back to Coris, leaving Zier feeling like kicking himself, "You may take Christopher and Simon as well. It'll be an experience for them, too."

Coris bowed in gratitude, a small smile glazed on his cracked lips.

"Thank you, Father. Until then, I shall be in my room copulating with my wife, while you starve Latakia of resources with your cherished ban. Zier!"

Coris barked at his little brother, then swept from the room, crimson cloak billowing behind him, a bewildered Zier scurrying after him.

The door swung shut with a resounding bang. A teardrop splashed onto the Baron's hand, dried by Baroness's hand clasping over it.

"He's right. They didn't have the choice, but I did." Kellis whispered. More combined tears splattered onto Sylvia's hand. She shook her head, eyes shut tight. She burrowed her face into the nook of her husband's trembling shoulder while his rough hand caressed her hair.

"Nineteen years ago, Father trusted me with Maxus's Memoirs, along with my first choice as Baron Hadrian; to validate Axel Hild's sacrifice, avenge Maxus's Fellowship, right the wrongs Drinian has done to Corien and Meira, end Mirra's war in my time; to betray all their expectations, for better or for worse; or to leave things the way they have always been. Unfinished. Halfhearted. A clock ticking back to doomsday, passed from father to son."

Kellis whispered. His eyes lingered on the closed door, then he hung his head in burning shame,

"I chose the easiest path, to leave this duty I couldn't fulfill to my sons, the way my father did to his son, and Hadrian men all the way to Maxus did to their sons, and my sons will probably do to their sons."

Kellis paused to contemplate his sins, then whispered in a voice soft as the clouds shrouding the peaks of Neverend Heights and heavy as its stone,

"Tell me, Sylvia: Am I the foulest father for bringing our sons into this three lands?"