Willowbrook stood by the stove, sipping slowly on his tea while Nero ate breakfast. He’d been very strict about making sure Nero ate and drank enough over the last few weeks. He was starting to put on weight again, but Willowbrook made a point to watch him closely. Nero didn’t mind, though. He was grateful that he cared about him.

There was a loud knock at the door, and Willowbrook let out a frustrated sigh. He hated visitors. He threw on a cloak and went to the door. Two of Aiken’s soldiers were at the door, and he made no effort to hide his annoyance.

“What do you want?” he asked, eyeing the soldiers with a hint of contempt. “The festival isn’t for another three days—you shouldn’t need anything else from me.”

“Prince Consort Aiken has requested your presence in the Court,” one of the guards said, bowing to Willowbrook. “He also asked that you bring the Human with you.”

As the sun began to set, Willowbrook and Nero got dressed to go to the Court.

Willowbrook had traded his plain brown clothes for bright, flowing blue and green robes made of bird feathers. He adorned himself with emerald jewelry and let his long hair down.

Nero was given new robes that Nephila had made for him. They were orange, like the others, but made from different leaves. He also had a cloak of orange and black, made from the wings of monarch butterflies.

“When we’re in the Court,” Willowbrook told him, “you have to do everything I tell you. This is selfish and cruel to ask of you, but it will save you from a worse fate at the hands of my father.”

“What do you mean?”

“My father despises Humans. He and my mother will likely expect me to treat you like an animal, and I may have to do it in front of them to prove that I can handle you in order to keep you in my care. I apologize now for anything that might occur in the Court. Just trust me and do as I say.”

When they arrived, Tana and Aiken were alone. The rest of the Court was completely empty, not even any guards. Nero lingered back while Willowbrook approached his parents.

Tana was dressed in a glittering gown made of lily petals, and her husband had traded in his beetle armor for loose robes made of dark red oak leaves. He still carried his spear, though.

“You summoned me, Father?”

“I want to know how things are going with your new pet,” Aiken saying, shooting a glance towards Nero.

“My pet?”

“The Human,” he said, pointing his weapon at Nero. “Haven’t you taught him any manners? I assume not, since he hasn’t bothered to acknowledge the Queen.”

“He’s not a pet,” Willowbrook stated, his face and voice both completely stoic. “He’s a slave, and I never asked for one. Pets are companions—why should I give him that much kindness?”

He turned to him, and Nero swallowed hard. There was no feeling in Willowbrook’s voice, no emotion in his eyes. He grabbed him roughly by the arm and brought him to the foot of the stairs where Tana and Aiken sat in their respective thrones. He shoved Nero down onto his hands and knees before them.

“Bow to the rulers of Ombra, Human.”

Nero gritted his teeth against the pain and let out a long breath as he bowed his head. He already talked with Willowbrook about what was probably going to happen, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Give us your name,” Aiken demanded, and Nero took a deep breath. He knew he’d be punished, but he couldn’t give a Faerie his name, especially not Aiken.

“I can’t,” he told Aiken, who frowned, tightening his grip on his weapon.

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t give you my name,” Nero said, finally lifting his head to look at Aiken, trying to swallow his fear. “You can’t have my name, but you can call me Nero.”

“I’ll call you whatever I like, you piece of Human trash!”

Aiken stood, spear in hand, and Nero’s courage faltered. He was afraid Aiken would stab him again.

Before Aiken could do anything, Willowbrook kicked Nero in the stomach. Nero collapsed to the floor, clutching his torso while he coughed and gasped.

“Don’t speak to my father that way,” he said quietly, and Aiken said back down. “You’re just a Human—learn your place.”

“You’d better get that Human under control, Willowbrook. He’s far too defiant. Perhaps he needs to be lashed some more.”

“That won’t be necessary.” He grabbed Nero by the back of his robes and yanked him up onto his knees. Nero breathed heavily, a pained grimace on his face as he was forced to look at Tana and Aiken. “Apologize to my parents for the way you’ve acted.”

“I’m sorry.” Nero bowed his head. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“You must be well-versed in Faerie culture if you know not to give your name so freely,” Tana noted with a soft laugh. “What has Prince Willowbrook been teaching you?”

“Nothing,” Nero said. It wasn’t a complete lie—Willowbrook had only taught him a few things. “I learned about Faeries when I was younger, before my teacher died.”

Willowbrook let him go and Nero doubled over, clutching his aching stomach. He was still trying to catch his breath. Willowbrook had hit him harder than he expected, and he hadn’t been prepared for it.

“You can go,” Aiken said, waving them away.

“You summoned me all the way to the Court just to ask how I’ve been getting along with the Human you forced me to accept as a gift?”

“Do I need a reason to summon the Crown Prince to the Court?”

“As a matter of fact, you do,” Willowbrook stated in a stern tone. He straightened his back, standing tall and glaring at his father. “You may be the Queen’s husband, and you may be my father, but everyone knows the Prince Consort has no real power here.”

“Perhaps you’d like to find out just how powerful I am!” Aiken stood, readying his weapon, aimed at Willowbrook. “It’s no wonder why the Human has no respect. He could never learn it from you.”

“That’s enough,” Tana said. Her voice was quiet and calm, but firm, and she stood. “You’re both acting like children. Aiken, leave us now. I’d like to speak with Willowbrook alone.”

Aiken looked like he was going to argue, but then decided against it. He stormed out of the Court without another word. Tana let out a long sigh, then sat back down on her throne. She looked down at Nero, who was still curled up on the floor.

“I see you’ve finally moved beyond your passion for Humans and their culture, That’s good. You shouldn’t trust Humans.”

“Don’t get things twisted,” Willowbrook told her. “Not every Human fits the discriminatory outlook. This one certainly doesn’t.”

“Why do you defend them? Because one Human child didn’t harm you? He still kept you as a pet, WIllowbrook. Don’t forget that you escaped—he didn’t release you.”

“I didn’t come here to be lectured about what happened when I was a child. Why did you really summon me? Certainly there must be more to it than indulging Aiden and his sick lust for violence.”

Tana sighed as she brushed her long hair out of her face.

“You don’t have to bow to me, little Human,” she told Nero, but he didn’t move. He didn’t want to get himself in any more trouble or risk getting hit again.

“Don’t ignore me!” WIllowbrook snapped, and Nero recoiled at his outburst. “What’s going on?”

“There are troubling signs… A darkness may soon be upon us. The outside world is suffering. Over this past year, we’ve received word about nearly every kingdom in turmoil. Oorlog, Urbem Mortis, Arcanum, Anzino…”

Nero’s eyes went wide. Turmoil in Anzino?

“What about them?” Willowbrook asked.

"The Elves and Vampires are dying off because their air and water has become toxic. Smog rolls in from Cadmus and tainted water runs down from Montem Fumis. Oorlogan sailors find themselves struggling to move south through the mists, and less and less ships are returning. The King and Queen of Anzino died shortly after the accidental death of one of the princes, and the new king, still in his youth, has no idea how to rule his kingdom properly. Word is that he’s become a tyrant and lives in fear of magic, including his own.”

Nero covered his face with his hands, willing himself not to cry. His chest ached. He couldn’t breathe.

His parents were dead? How could that be? He felt sick to his stomach. He might vomit or faint if he tried to get up. He’d only been in Ombra for a few weeks. What was going on?

Daemon, a tyrant? That didn’t sound like his brother. Sure, he’d been a pain, and sometimes had a temper… but he wasn’t cruel. Nero didn’t believe it.

“None of this is to frighten you, Willowbrook,” Tana told him, “but to prepare you. Ombra is not immune to the state of the world. We may begin to suffer, as well. If our way of life is threatened, we may very well end up going to war. You must be ready to fight or to take my place if anything happens. We’ve tried to negotiate with some of the other kingdoms, but to no avail.”

“How can you expect anyone to listen to us?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t act naïve, Mother.” He picked Nero up, holding him in his arms. “A Human slave, for what? For getting lost in the wilderness and using our readily available resources to survive? Faeries aren’t heroes in this story.”

He left Tana alone in the Court without another word. He held Nero firmly, only letting him down once they were inside Willowbrook’s home.

Nero stood there, his back to Willowbrook, in complete silence. His shoulders sagged in defeat, and his eyes were red from trying to stop himself from crying.

“Nero,” Willowbrook said quietly. “I didn’t know—”

“How long has it been?” he asked, his back still to Willowbrook. He clutched his stomach with both hands, feeling like he might vomit. “How long since I came to Ombra? It feels like it’s only been a few weeks.”

“That’s how time passes here,” Willowbrook said quietly, his gaze down. “Outside of this realm, it’s been over a year.”

Nero clutched his head in his hands. A year? A strange noise escaped his lips as tears filled his eyes, somewhere between a whimper and a sob.

“I’m sorry, Nero. I didn’t know about your parents. And your brother—”

Nero cried out in rage and overturned a chair. He had so many feelings… so much anger and sadness and agony, and no idea what to do with them. So, he took them out on Willowbrook’s house. He overturned furniture, knocked things off shelves, tore down the herbs that hung everywhere, kicked things around the room.

Willowbrook was silent, standing by the door while Nero screamed and cried and destroyed everything.

He overturned the kitchen table, then just stood there, gasping for air. His whole body was trembling, and he didn’t feel any better, but there was nothing left for him to destroy. What was he supposed to do?

He took a swing at the wall, but Willowbrook caught him by the wrist.

“That’s enough, Nero,” he said quietly, a sad, tired look in his eye before he pulled Nero into a tight hug. “Enough.”

Nero’s whole body was shaking, and he was still breathing heavily. Willowbrook was taller and bigger than him, and it made him feel small and weak.

“Willow…”

He grabbed the front of Willowbrook’s robes as tears ran down his face. He had no energy left to be angry, but he had plenty of anguish to spare. He pressed his face against Willowbrook’s chest and cried.

He felt so disconnected and defeated. He wished he’d just let Father defeat him in the Duellum Magica instead of running away. Now his parents were dead, and it was his fault, wasn’t it?