Chapter Two

Everett

Everett stood beside his father’s throne, attempting to keep his posture perfect.

From a young age, he had been trained to portray absolute perfection every time he was around another breathing soul.

The man was far from perfect, but he had learned to control the mask he put on as the heir.

Although, no matter how hard he tried, his brother was able to effortlessly look like royalty.

He had an aura to him that made most assume he was their future king.

While Everett’s hair was messy waves, Roman’s was completely straight and always slicked back to maintain a manicured look.

Maybe that’s the reason Everett would forever live in his brother’s shadow.

He would never have the looks of a king.

Even though he was older than Roman, he knew his father wished his brother had been the firstborn instead.

As he stood awaiting the meeting he had been called for, his thoughts wandered to the girl who had been consuming his thoughts since the previous night.

The image of her piercing silver eyes was ingrained into his memory and he couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind.

They reminded him of the sky when it was about to rain.

The moment the dark clouds rolled in as a sign that there was danger coming.

That’s exactly what she was.

Danger.

A beautiful kind of danger that only pulled him in further.

The audacity she had to pull a knife on him was almost laughable.

It was also extremely attractive to him for a reason that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He hadn’t met any women who had enough courage to do such a thing. It made him more intrigued than he wanted to admit. His only fear was that he wouldn’t see her again.

His attention was quickly pulled back to reality as a short man with a large gut wandered into the throne room, his steps faltering as he approached the dais that the royals stood upon.

The room was large with a high ceiling, decorated in rich fabrics and paintings.

One would easily be intimidated by the sight of it.

His eyes roamed everywhere but the king that lounged before him.

He kept his hands behind his back, his posture rigid.

He seemed to sway back and forth between his feet, maybe a comforting movement to calm his nerves.

Everett continued to examine the man with narrowed eyes, only slightly recognizing his face from the border patrol that came with updates every few months.

“Speak,”

his father’s voice broke the silence within the room.

The short man seemed to flinch at the sound.

The king had a powerful presence that most people feared.

His voice alone was enough to make a grown man cower.

“I-I have a new update on the border. We have seen a higher presence of the hounds lately in comparison to the previous months. They’ve been daring to come closer to the walls each passing day,”

the man began to speak, a light tremor pulling at the tone in his voice.

The hounds had been a problem for centuries.

Ever since the plague had passed, the hounds have attacked Orissia without faltering.

No matter how many of them they’d killed, the damn creatures seemed to reproduce at alarming rates.

“Have they breached the wards?”

his father tilted his head in a challenge.

“N-no sir, but they’ve been getting too close for comfort. I think Mortianna-”

his words were quickly silenced as the king raised his hand in a warning. “Boys, leave us,”

his tone was cold, his stare never leaving the guard’s face. Confusion stirred within Everett, his eyes darting to his father’s frozen figure.

It was rare that he was dismissed from a meeting that involved their kingdom. As the heir, it was important to understand these things.

“But Father-”

he started only to be met with a rageful stare from the king.

The words stopped on the tip of his tongue, unable to speak.

Roman touched his elbow, trying to convince him to leave without another word.

Everett shook his head, running a hand over his face as he let out a heavy sigh.

He tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he was being asked to leave the throne room without an explanation.

He’d been around for updates on the wards countless times, but the name Mortianna had never been mentioned before.

He questioned who the unknown woman was, his mind screaming at him to fight his father on the dismissal.

Roman nudged him once more before he finally stepped away from the throne, his eyes locked on the large doors that led outside of the throne room.

His lips pressed into a tight line, trying to keep his attitude in check. Even the two words he let leave his lips were going to come with consequences later.

As Everett flung the doors open, leaving his father behind, he could hear his brother’s footsteps closely behind him.

Roman always listened to their father’s orders without hesitation like an obedient pet.

Everett refused to be brainwashed into such a position.

He continued his path to the one place he knew he could take out his frustrations without ruining something on the palace grounds.

The footsteps behind him continued, never faltering until they reached the training facility deep within the palace.

The room had been created to keep the royal bloodline fit and experienced in any sort of combat.

Even though the hounds had never gotten within the walls, it was important for them to know about defending themselves.

The space had easily become a place for Everett to escape from the frustrations that overcame him in his daily life.

He continued walking until he approached the table that held a variety of weapons used for combat.

His eyes scanned his options before he grabbed a long sword that had become dull over the years of being used.

Without a word he moved into the sparring ring, spinning the sword once before he could finally face his brother.

The worry was written across Roman’s expression, making Everett want to roll his eyes in annoyance.

“Everett, just take a few deep breaths. I know you're pissed but I’m sure Father has a reason for dismissing us,”

Roman attempted to reason with him, but his mind was already set on letting the sword do the talking. “As much as I love you, brother, grab a sword”

he simply stated, nodding his head towards the table. With a sigh, his brother picked up a sword and joined him in the ring. “I’m just trying to help, I hate when you get frustrated like this,”

he began to speak again, only causing annoyance to flare in his chest once more. “I appreciate the terrible attempts, but I need to let off my steam in other ways. Words don’t help me, you know that,”

Everett explained before he quickly swung the blade at his brother. Roman raised his sword, meeting Everett’s blade before it could come near him.

The metal slamming into each other caused a vibration to run up his arms, a comfort that he had grown to adore. He didn’t let Roman have much time to process as he swiped for his brother’s gut, missing by a few inches as he stepped back to avoid the blow.

The two men continued to circle each other in the ring, taking turns striking and blocking.

The dance went on for an hour before Roman finally gave in, panting heavily as he held his hands up in surrender towards his brother. “I need a break, Everett. Can we please just talk?”

he pressed his palm against his chest trying to regain control over his breathing. Everett debated simply saying no and walking away from his brother, but he didn’t want to be cruel.

“Fine, we can talk. I’m only giving you ten minutes so you better not ramble about pointless shit,”

he tossed his sword back on the table before unbuttoning his shirt and letting it fall to the floor. “Of course, you have to take your clothes off,”

Roman teased with a chuckle before putting down his weapon. “Jealous that my body is more toned than yours, hm?”

he shot back, letting a smile light up his face. No matter how pissed off he was, Everett couldn’t bring himself to stay that way when he was around his brother. He couldn’t hate Roman for the way his father treated them differently.

Everett sat on the mat beside his brother, running his hand through his now sweaty hair. “I’m frustrated too, you know? I don’t know why he’d dismiss us from a meeting when it seemed very important. I just refuse to disobey him, especially in front of others,”

he tried to explain, making Everett pause. His brother rarely voiced his opinion about their father’s choices. “It just doesn’t make sense, Roman.

The man mentions a woman’s name and it all becomes a secret. I’m supposed to take over the throne in a few years, how am I supposed to be a good ruler if I don't fully understand our kingdom?”

Everett questions, a frown tugging his lips downward. Any trace of their smiles had disappeared and was replaced with more serious expressions.

“I wish I had more answers for you. You’re right though. As the heir, you shouldn’t be dismissed so easily.

If something in Orissia is wrong, you should be one of the first to know about it. Regardless though, I think you’re going to make a wonderful king. You have a strength in you that nobody else in this kingdom has. I’ve never once doubted you,”

Roman wrapped his arm around his brother’s shoulders, trying to cheer him up in any way he could. Everett let the words process, his stare locking in on the wall across the room.

He wanted to believe Roman’s words, but he held little confidence in his future. He didn’t want to disappoint his father any more than he already did. He didn’t want to let down his kingdom.

“I’m sorry, Roman. I think with the Choosing Ceremony coming tomorrow I’m just on edge. I wish Father would stop sending people beyond the wall. It obviously hasn’t worked until now, I don’t know why he continues it.”

“I’m going to go clean up for dinner, you should do the same. Maybe we can mention today’s events to Father in a more private manner,”

Roman suggested as he stood, ignoring the comment about the Choosing Ceremony.

The topic seemed to even be touchy for his brother.

Everett only nodded his head to acknowledge that he heard him before pulling his knees to his chest.

Roman left the training room without another word, leaving Everett alone with his thoughts.