Chapter 13

CHAPTER13

My dearest Larkin,

I hope to find you again soon, in great spirits, and to be angry that you went on an adventure without consulting me. You’re a prince of the realm!

Larkin could almost hear his mother’s voice chastising him. Reminding him of his duties, while still asking of what had happened, what grand things he’d seen.

His heart pounded hard in his chest as he walked through the halls of the palace to his brother’s chambers—the chambers Elric was already in the process of vacating, because he wanted to live in the grand central wing, truly at the heart of everything.

This early in the afternoon, the servants were bustling about with their chores, stopping when they saw him to bow respectfully.

If you are truly gone, then I fear for our kingdom.

It had to be a mistake. His mother hadn’t been in her right mind, too caught up in her grief of losing Larkin, and that’s why she’d written what she had.

Larkin stopped in front of his brother’s chambers. The two guards bowed to him.

“Your Highness,” they both said in unison, perfectly practiced.

“I wish to speak to my brother,” Larkin said, surprised at how even his voice sounded. “Tell him I’m here, and it cannot wait.”

One of the guards nodded and knocked on the door.

It has become clear to me that your brother is motivated by greed and ambition. If you do not return, I must find another heir, one who will not act out of selfish desires.

“Who is it?” Elric’s voice called out through the door.

“His Highness Prince Larkin, Your Majesty,” the guard said, standing at attention despite the thick door between him and Elric. “He would like an audience.”

“No,” Larkin said immediately. “I demand an audience, Brother.”

There was another pause, until Elric said, “Enter.”

Larkin took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he did not wish to have. He still didn’t understand why his mother thought that her older son—her heir—was greedy and overly ambitious, but…

If you do, and you are reading this, I wish you to take the crown. I know it will not be easy. Your brother has much influence, but there are also those who are disgruntled by his actions as the heir. You will have more support than you might believe.

He opened the door, stepping inside and closing it behind him. It wouldn’t do for the guards to hear this particular conversation. He didn’t want them to know until it was over with. Surely he and Elric could talk this out.

Surely Elric would mind their mother’s wishes…

But if he was as selfish and power-hungry as she’d made Elric sound, this wouldn’t be easy for Larkin.

Larkin stopped short when he noticed Elric was not alone. A handsome bearded man sat on a chaise near Elric, dressed in tight leather trousers and a deep purple shirt. Rings covered his fingers, and several gold hoops decorated his ears.

“Who is he?” Larkin demanded, almost relieved he had something else to focus on while he figured out what to say.

Elric looked to the other man. “This is Callan. He’s been assisting me in certain matters.”

Certain matters? Larkin assessed Callan more closely. His black hair had streaks of silver in it, and although the clothes were simple, they appeared rich. There was something about him, something that reminded him of…

Oh. It was the strange atmosphere around him, thick and heavy with what Larkin had come to associate with Jade’s magic. But Callan didn’t look like a dragon.

“Is he a sorcerer?” Larkin asked suspiciously. “We don’t need more magic consultations. We have Rohesia.”

As soon as Larkin said it, he realized he hadn’t seen Rohesia at all since he’d returned. Normally the court sorceress would have, at the very least, greeted him.

“Rohesia was old and frail. Her protection charms did nothing to keep you safe—at least, that was our assumption when you’d failed to return. She gracefully retired so somebody younger, with a better grasp of magic, could take her place.”

Larkin frowned at Elric. His mother’s words had been burned into his memory. Was this evidence of his greediness? Would he have replaced Rohesia with someone who would obey him? Rohesia had been loyal to the realm.

“I see.” He didn’t. “I need to speak to you alone, Elric,” he said. “Callan, you’re dismissed.”

Callan shrugged and began to stand, but Elric held his hand up to stop him. “Callan, stay. Whatever my brother has to say, he can say it in front of you.”

Larkin frowned at Elric. “No. No, I really can’t. I must insist that he leave, brother.”

Elric met Larkin’s eyes with a steely gaze of his own. “Speak now, Larkin, or leave. I have many important matters to attend to, and I can’t waste them with your babbling.”

Those words hurt more than he expected. His babbling? He said important things. He simply didn’t know how to say this, least of all with another person in the room. “I will be taking the throne,” he stated, his voice weak. “It was Mother’s wish. I found her will and a letter stating as much.”

Elric’s eyes widened—and he burst out laughing. “Excuse me?”

The laughter had Larkin heating up with humiliation, but he straightened his back. “The throne is mine. Per mother’s wishes. I am happy to keep you on as an adviser, brother, but I cannot, will not, go against Mother’s wishes.”

If only his voice weren’t shaking. If only he wasn’t blushing with shame.

“Your brother has delusions of grandeur,” Callan suddenly said, the first words he’d uttered in Larkin’s presence.

Elric sneered. “He does. What does my little brother know about ruling? Who are our strongest allies right now, Larkin? Where does the gold in our coffers come from? How do we maintain our borders?”

Larkin knew the answers to those questions, and it hurt that Elric didn’t think he knew such basic things. “I’ve been taught all those things, the same as you. Even if I didn’t, I’ll have advisers to help me with ruling,” Larkin said, though he fidgeted. He almost wished he’d brought the letter with him, but after Elric had been so quick to discuss destroying their mother’s paperwork… “I will present the letter and testament to the court, Elric. They will rule in my favor. I wanted to warn you before I went to them. I thought it only fair.”

Elric approached Larkin, and Larkin immediately tensed. The arm Elric put around his shoulders felt cold and threatening, not at all like a brother’s embrace.

“Larkin,” Elric said, “I was willing to allow you to stay, as long as you played your part. But I see I shouldn’t have underestimated your lack of self-preservation. Going after a fucking dragon on your own. And now, threatening me, despite all you know.”

“My lack of…” Larkin trailed off and his eyes widened. “Dragon? How did—no. You said it was a wyvern. You were simply ignorant…”

Elric and Callan both started laughing again. Larkin tried to break free of Elric, but Elric only tightened his hold.

“I told you my little brother was stupid, didn’t I?” Elric said to Callan.

Callan nodded, smirking. “You did. I didn’t think it was possible to be so naive as a prince.”

“I’m not stupid or naive!” Larkin burst out, but even he didn’t believe himself in that moment. Jade had tried to warn him. Larkin had been the one who’d insisted his brother would never do such a thing to him. He should’ve seen it coming… but how could he? His brother had always been…

Cruel. Mocking. He saw it, then, and tears welled up in his eyes.

“You can’t change her will,” Larkin said, blinking back tears. “It doesn’t matter what you think of me. She wanted me to rule.”

“It doesn’t matter what she wanted,” Elric answered, just as cruelly, “because she’s dead.”

Dead—conveniently dead, Larkin realized. “Did you… Did you have her killed?”

Elric placed his hand on Larkin’s chest, essentially holding him in place. “You really haven’t been paying attention, Brother. But I think I don’t want to hear you say anything anymore. Callan?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Callan made some hand gestures, and something dark began to grow in his palm

Whatever spell it was, Larkin didn’t want to get hit by it. He elbowed his brother as hard as he could. Elric gasped and let go, allowing Larkin to run toward the door.

But he was too slow. He could feel the magic wrap around his throat, tightening and stealing his breath. Larkin stumbled while he struggled for air.

Elric walked over and grabbed Larkin by the hair, forcing Larkin to look up at him.

‘What did you do?’he tried to say, but only incoherent noises came out.

“You won’t be saying any more treasonous things ever again,” Elric said with a sneer. “Guards!”

The door flew open almost immediately, and the two guards from before rushed in. “Your Majesty?”

Elric shoved Larkin in their direction. “It turns out my brother has been plotting treason. I refuse to have his filth poisoning my court. Have him stripped and placed in the pillory.”

‘What?’Larkin meant to protest, but again, the word didn’t come out. He could only make noises, even though he tried to protest his ignorance. Dread welled up within him.

He knew what the price was for treason, and he didn’t want anything to do with it.

But surely no one would harm a prince, even if he was in the stocks for treason.

The two guards grabbed him by each arm, hauling him out of the room. They didn’t even hesitate, as though they’d been… expecting this? No, now he was just being paranoid. He’d been foolish before, but now he was going in the exact opposite direction.

He tried to protest the whole way down the hall, but nothing he said came out.

The guards were stony beside him until they got out of Elric’s earshot, then one of them said, “In the pillory for treason, eh? We know what that means. And you aren’t even going to try to defend yourself, Prince?”

Why was everyone so cruel?

It cost nothing to be kind to people, and Larkin tried so hard to do just that. It didn’t seem anyone wanted to return the favor, though.

Again and again, he tried to speak; again and again, Callan’s strange magic thwarted him. He whimpered as he was led outside, one of the guards forcing him to his knees while the other unlocked the stocks and lifted the top.

“Get him inside,” the second guard ordered.

The first, a balding man with a trim build, laughed. “Gotta get him naked first.”

“Oh, shit,” the second one said. He ran a hand through his red hair, grinning. “Can’t say I’ve ever gotten to strip down a prince before. What do you think he’ll look like? All pale and pathetic?”

“With a shrimp of a cock,” the bald man replied. “Well, no reason to undress him gently.” He grabbed at Larkin’s shirt, but it didn’t immediately tear. The fabric was too fine for that. Larkin didn’t have time to be relieved, as the man pulled out a dagger from the sheath on his belt. “Better hold still, Your Highness,” he mocked. “I’d hate to accidentally scratch that porcelain skin of yours.”

Larkin held his breath, though fear made his eyes wide and his body tremble. He felt like… well, he felt like Thunder must have, outside of Jade’s cave, just waiting for the inevitable.

The man sliced through his clothing, but he wasn’t careful. Larkin yelped, the sound far clearer than his cries for help had been.

He could feel blood trickling down his skin where the dagger’s sharp edge had nicked him, and even though he stayed as still as possible, the blade still cut into his legs where they removed his pants. He was left wearing only his fine shoes, which they left on his feet.

As soon as they had him naked, they shoved him up against the rough wooden pillory, bringing the upper beam down on his neck and wrists.

He was trapped.

Larkin struggled anyway, but there was no way to fit his hands through the holes, let alone his head. The height of the pillory meant he was forced to bend over, leaving his ass jutting out into the air.

He suddenly remembered the men who had come to finish him off. They said his brother had sent them.

One of the guards took a wooden sign and hung it around Larkin’s neck. He couldn’t read it from this angle, but Larkin didn’t have to wonder what it said.

Treason.

It didn’t take long for men and women to stop to stare at him. Many of them whispered to each other, and Larkin could hear snippets of conversation.

“Is that the prince?”

“It can’t be. He wouldn’t…”

“But treason? Who would have thought…”

Larkin’s eyes filled with tears once more, out of anger and shame and self-loathing. He should have listened to Jade. He should have realized. He really was so fucking stupid.

At least nobody was approaching him, and he didn’t see anybody with rotten fruits or vegetables.

Then a voice rang out from behind him, loud enough that it had to be magically amplified.

“Dear people of the city of Alzaria! Today, only mere days from my coronation, my brother sought to steal power from me. His vile attempt to disrupt our kingdom is unforgivable. Though I tried to reason with him, he would not desist,” Elric said. His voice sounded so hurt, so remorseful.

How had Larkin never realized what an actor his brother was?

“Thus it is with a very heavy heart that I must condemn Larkin, formerly Prince of Kithage, to the punishment that all traitors deserve. It pains me dearly, but I cannot allow my own sentimentality to come before the good of the country.” Elric paused dramatically. “He is free to be used as you wish, until his execution at dawn tomorrow.”

The people around Larkin stood still, in confusion and revulsion and… who knew what else? They were judging him, and they had only Elric’s words to go by. His own voice had been silenced, and all he could do was sob. He was nothing more than an object now, to be punished before his inevitable execution the following day.

He never should’ve left Jade.

He was never going to see Jade again, and it hurt. Even more than his brother’s betrayal, that gnawed at his insides. He wished he could see him just one more time.

Instead, he was confronted with an overripe tomato hitting his face, blinding him temporarily. Another tomato hit the pillory next to his head, the thrower having thankfully poor aim. But it was only the first of many, until one of the guards—the bald one, he thought—cleared his throat and said, “This is a waste. Throwing rotten food at him? No, let’s remind him of the real punishment for treason.”

Murmurs and whispers among the crowd were uneasy but in agreement.

Dread roiled in his stomach. Larkin didn’t need a reminder of what happened to traitors. He already knew it was the worst possible punishment a citizen of Kithage could face.

Someone approached him in front, and he tried to blink away the residue of rotten fruits to see who was there. He couldn’t see, even the tears in his eyes not washing away the remnants. The person grabbed him by the hair and muttered, “This is what you get, traitor. You try to shame our country? Now feel the shame of everybody knowing what a disgusting slut you are.”

If only they knew just what he’d really been up to.

Shame gnawed at him. This was the punishment for treason, and the derision came with it, but—

The cock pressed against his lips came as a shock at first, but he wasn’t really surprised—not after what the men Elric had sent had done to him. At… Elric’s command? He felt worse than ever for refusing to face the truth.

For being so naive.

For being such an utter fool.

As the cock forced him to gag, his throat convulsing around the head of it, Larkin cried harder—then nearly choked when someone lined up his cock at his rear. The man spread Larkin’s ass cheeks, and the only relief was that the tip of the man’s cock was slick as it started to shove into him without care.

He was even less than a common whore, there only to be punished and killed when they’d finished with him.

“Punish him every second until his execution,” Elric’s voice carried for him to hear even above the grunting of the men at his front and behind. “Guards, you may take turns ensuring his lasting moments are as painful as he deserves.”

Hands groped him all over, pinching and grasping, and despair threatened to overwhelm him as the first of the men cut off his air. He tried to struggle, tried to somehow convey that he couldn’t breathe, but the man only held him tighter as Larkin fought—and Larkin didn’t dare use his teeth to discourage him.

Just when he thought he might pass out, the man withdrew, spraying cum all over his face, to join the rotten tomato residue.

Larkin choked on it as he gasped for air, and he barely noticed when the man at his ass was replaced with another.

And another.

Over and over, more cocks in his ass, in his mouth. Bitter cum splashed on his lips and face.

“I don’t want to get my cock filthy,” somebody said behind him. “I’ll give him a different punishment.”

Larkin didn’t understand what he meant, until warm liquid splashed on his ass—and kept going, and going. The man was pissing on him.

His entire body was nothing but a vessel for his shame, now. Larkin couldn’t stop the tears from escaping, but his distress won him no sympathy.

The cock in his mouth pulled out—this man had opted to release into Larkin’s throat—and another one stepped closer.

“You think those crocodile tears are gonna sway us?” he said gruffly.

No, Larkin thought. He didn’t understand what this newcomer was waiting for… until the hand came down across his cheek.

There were several rounds of the slaps, the impact almost drowning out the sound of the crowd jeering.

“You’re lucky that’s all you’re gettin’,” the man said, though Larkin was almost deafened by the way his ears were ringing. “You could be tied up to the whipping post.” Another murmur of excitement went through the crowd, their bloodlust only seeming to rise instead of fading as they sated themselves with his body.

“We don’t need a whipping post,” someone else said from behind him. “This’ll work just fine.”

Larkin’s sobs had faded somehow when he’d been hit, but they only got worse again.

Surely they wouldn’t—

Surely Elric would stop them—

But he heard the crack of a whip a split second before it was coming down on his back. He screamed, and unlike his voice, that wasn’t silenced. The crowd cheered, encouraging the person to do it again.

After the fifth stroke of the whip, Larkin threw up, unable to withstand the pain any longer. That… didn’t stop them.

Nothing did.

Not his screams, not his vomiting, not his tears, not the way he could feel blood running down his back, not how he smelled so terribly of cum and urine.

And this would go on until he would happily go to the gallows to be put out of his misery.

* * *

Larkin lost track of time. Every new shadow that fell over him only meant more pain. It seemed there was an endless supply of men—and even some women—who wanted to see him suffer.

“Fuck, how many do you think he’s had already?” somebody nearby said.

“We should have kept a tally.”

Larkin didn’t even lift his head when the next person approached. This man grabbed Larkin’s hair, though, and forced him to look up.

The man started shouting something, but Larkin wasn’t paying attention. All he focused on was the dark orange of the sky behind him. The sun was setting. He’d been there for several hours.

And it would still keep going, until people finally were too tired to line up to abuse the prince. Former prince. Traitor.

A sudden gust of wind made Larkin’s open wounds sting.

Maybe it would begin to rain, and some of these people would decide it wasn’t worth it to brave the weather just to hurt him more.

“Are you even listening?” the man shouted directly into his ear. “You fucking spoiled, entitled—”

Another gust of wind, and a loud, deafening roar that drowned out whatever else the man was going to say.

Something inside Larkin stirred.

It couldn’t be. It was just the wind, a storm blowing, nothing to get his hopes up about—

Until the nearby roof burst into flames.