A silence filled the estate.
Each drop of blood from Aric’s fingers, crimson from Mia’s heart, seemed deafening in the quiet. Darius held her in his arms as he dropped to his knees, her blood staining his robes. His pupils trembled, and his lips quivered as he held the corpse of the woman he loved—a gaping hole in her chest made by the brother he had always thought of as nothing.
What was this situation?
How could she be dead? And killed by Aric, no less.
"Wh-what have you done?"
Darius stuttered. Aric had never heard his brother stutter, not once in his life until now. What did he feel? Shock, anger... fear?
"I killed a traitor," Aric’s response was cold, almost unamused.
However, he was anything but. This scene—watching his brother cradle the corpse of someone he cared about—thrilled him more than he had expected, so much so it felt psychotic.
"So, what will you do now, Darius?" Aric raised his hand, and Meholt swiftly handed him a rag.
"You could fight me while being outnumbered, but God knows that won’t put her heart back into her chest." Aric wiped the blood from his hand. "You could make me stand before the tribunal for murdering your subordinate... but you did admit, in front of all these witnesses, that she had indeed been ordered to commit treason."
Aric walked closer to the third prince, lowering himself, watching as Darius’s body vibrated in anger, veins bulging.
"I want to kill you," Darius’s words barely escaped his clenched teeth, his mouth dripping with saliva and blood as he bit his lips, barely containing his rage. "I want to kill you so bad it hurts."
Aric chuckled. "And it’s still not as much as I want to kill you."
He stood, stepping away.
---
An evening breeze made its way into the study of the fourth prince’s home, along with the pale light of the setting sun. Aric sat in a chair, while Serina stood behind him, the golden rays dancing on her face as her hair seemed to glisten in the glow.
"Is this part of the healing session, or...?" Aric asked, fully relaxed in his chair as Serina massaged his shoulders.
"I guess so, since we can’t begin until your muscles stop being so tense," Serina explained.
Aric sighed. "Well, everyone keeps stressing me out."
"Very interesting events with the third prince today. You keep surprising me, Your Highness."
"What do you think?" Aric asked, genuinely curious.
"That the third prince is going to become a problem for Your Highness," she spoke honestly.
"He always would have been. But now, even less so. I’ve shattered everything he thought he knew about me. Now, he’s uncertain... afraid."
Aric’s tone carried confidence in his actions.
"Besides, he’s a very insignificant bump on my road to the throne, if I think about it."
Serina raised an eyebrow. "Hmm, though you implied to me you wouldn’t be joining the battle for the crown."
"Well, it’s inevitable that I’ll go against my brothers. And when all is said and done, there will be the two outcomes for us: The who sits on the throne or a dead prince... and I have no plans to be the latter."
Serina smiled, a gesture Aric couldn’t see, as she placed her glowing hand on his neck, beginning the healing.