Chapter 5 A Brother's Grief

Richard's POV

“No, no!” Mother cried, clutching the bucket of bloody flesh in her hands. “Richard, what are you saying? Stop spewing nonsense about your brother!”

“It hurts me just as much to tell you, Mother.” I wiped at my tears, careful to let my voice break. “But I'm afraid it's true. Otis... is no longer with us.”

She collapsed to the floor, clutching her chest as Father hurried to console her. He looked just as devastated, his face pale and his eyes wet. It was almost impressive how quickly they had accepted the story.

For my performance alone, I deserved at least three kingdoms in my name. And these two were supposed to be king and queen? Pathetic. Just as pathetic as their useless son. I scoffed inwardly. I still couldn't understand how Otis had ever been named Crown Prince when someone like me had been standing right here all along.

Well, now. I'd show them how it was done.

“You must get her,” Mother gasped between sobs. “Find the witch girl. Find the one who did this to my son!”

“I already have, Mother.” I lowered my head as if the words pained me. “I've sent men throughout Aurelith and into the neighbouring villages. The moment they find her and her accomplice, a messenger crow will bring me word.”

“Find them,” she cried. “They didn't even let me see my son's body!”

Her grief was almost convincing enough to make me feel something. Almost.

“It was a brutal shock for me too,” I said, letting fresh tears gather in my eyes. “I couldn't save him. The witch girl and her abominable donkey turned him into nothing but a pile of dismembered flesh.”

Mother screamed, and I lowered my face to hide the smile creeping across it.

“This was exactly why magic had to be banned. It is a danger to everyone. Grandfather had understood that before any of them. He'd fought to drive out dark magic before he died, but the fools around him had allowed the problem to fester.” I told her. “ Not to worry, mother. I'd spent time among the people, living as one of them whenever I could, and I'd seen how dangerous even the most innocent-looking spell caster could be. The girl who had killed Otis had looked harmless enough. The sort of girl who wouldn't hurt a fly. Yet look what she has done.”

Mother's crying turned into a sharp, furious wail. “Stop,” she said, her voice suddenly cold. “Stop this. I delayed too long. The elders raised this matter again and again, and I was a fool for refusing to act. Now I'm paying for it.”

“Don't call yourself a fool, my love,” Father said quietly, reaching for her shoulder.

She shrugged him off and looked at me. “Eradicate all magic in Aurelith. Every last trace of it. But first, find those two and have them executed.”

A smile threatened to spread across my face. I bowed my head to hide it. “As you wish, Mother.”

I left before either of them could ask anything else. My guards fell into step behind me as I crossed the palace corridor. Servants and maids stopped to offer condolences, their voices soft and their expressions suitably mournful. I thanked them with a grave nod, keeping my face straight until we were out of the royal family's sight.

“Any word about the girl and the donkey?” I asked one of the guards walking beside me.

“Not yet, Your Highness.”

Another guard, Lucas, was sweating despite the cool corridor. He kept glancing at me and then away, as if he had something to say but lacked the courage.

An Otis loyalist, I thought irritably. There was always one.

“Lucas,” I said, slowing down. “You seem awfully hesitant. Having second thoughts about what we're doing?”

He swallowed. The others went quiet.

“Yes, Your Highness,” he admitted, his voice shaking.

I smiled and moved closer. He stepped back. I took another step, and he retreated again until his back met the stone wall.

“Second thoughts about what, exactly?” I asked.

Lucas licked his lips. “I don't understand why we've declared the Crown Prince dead when we haven't even seen his body. And that donkey...” He hesitated, glancing at the other guards. “It really did seem like him.”

The men around us went rigid. No one dared speak.

I studied Lucas for a moment, then smiled as I stepped away. “Lucas, it's been an honour having you serve the royal family through these troublesome years. Truly.”

Relief flickered across his face. Poor fool. He thought that meant he was safe.

“But unfortunately,” I continued, “it seems that witch has gotten to you too. And now I don't think you can be trusted.”

I signalled to the guards. Lucas's face drained of colour as two men seized his arms.

“Your Highness, please! I didn't mean—”

“It's too late for that.”

I caught his chin and forced him to look at me. “Do you know what happens to treasonous people like you?”

“Please, Your Highness! I have a wife and a daughter. Please have mercy. I didn't mean what I said!”

I laughed and released him. “Fine. I'll spare you.”

The guards hesitated. I turned to their captain. “Tell the executioner to make the beheading quick and clean. First thing tomorrow morning.”

Their faces paled, but none of them challenged me. They dragged Lucas away as he screamed and begged, his voice echoing down the corridor long after he was gone.

I watched them disappear, satisfied. Let this be a lesson to anyone who thought they could question me and walk away unharmed.

“Prepare yourselves,” I ordered the remaining guards. “The raids are expanding. Search every corner of Aurelith. Every witch, sorcerer, fortune teller, and practitioner of dark magic must be wiped from the surface of this kingdom. We will not rest until it's done. There is only one authority here, and that is Aurelith's royal house!”

The men shouted their agreement, their voices filling the corridor before they dispersed to carry out my orders.

I turned toward the window, where the kingdom stretched beneath the palace walls. “See that, dear brother?” I murmured. “That's how a true king leads.”

A messenger came running toward me, clutching a folded letter sealed with dark wax. He dropped to one knee and held it out.

“From the men searching toward Oakwood, Your Highness. They've found the perpetrators.”

My smile returned. “Tell them to hold the girl and the donkey at the market stop. I'll be there shortly. And have Bismus prepared.”

The messenger hesitated. “But, Your Highness... Bismus was the late Crown Prince Otis's horse.”

I looked at him. “Would you like me to send your head to your family on a platter as well?”

He went white. “No, Your Highness. I'll see to it at once.”

He hurried away. I unfolded the letter and read it once more, savouring the news.

“Time to finish you off for good, brother,” I whispered. “The kingdom has no use for you anyway.”