Another day had been completed. Ivan arose from his second slumber in the castle. As expected of a noble estate, the beds were softer than clouds, however he had slept in these beds all his life so they were nothing special or extraordinary. Looking out the window, he noticed the sky was not the same as yesterday, rather it was smothered with grey clouds, with small rays of light piercing gaps. A setting that brought Ivan an abnormal sensation of Déjà vu.

He sat at the desk prepared for him in his room to the left of his bed, near the window. A small stack of parchment was waiting to Ivan's right with a quill made from the left feather of a pheasant, already carefully positioned in a pot of jet black ink.

Running his hand along the underside of the desk, Ivan could feel no dust. The servants appeared to have taken every precaution to create a suitable and clean living condition for one of royal status.

Well then, Ivan thought to himself. He removed the quill and took a piece of parchment and began writing a poem. Poetry was Ivan's main hobby, he was highly engrossed in the way poems were structured and how they were wrote, each word holding so much individual power to formulate the whole overall grand design. Obviously some words weren't as important as others but they laid the foundations. One could even compare poetry to a kingdom, the less important words were the peasants, whilst they had no real value they were what allowed for a kingdom to have a population, allowed for a kingdom to be built. The more important words were the nobles, they gave a poem meaning and that meaning is how a kingdom is judged. Those words have dominion over the others as the peasants work for the glory of the nobles, the glory to make the more important words give function and meaning to the poem.

Of course Ivan liked to write poems of his own. What topic was on his mind today? He thought. It wasn't a very pleasurable topic but he couldn't stop his mind from drifting to Walter's murder. Who, just who had done it? It was yet another matter that required his attention. But for now Ivan just wanted to write. In fact, he had become inspired by the thought. Let us see, Ivan thought as he commenced.

A monster sleeps below,

He is a lonely monster,

All he has is his game,

But...

A knock came from the door. Ivan ceased his writing and answered it. A boy carried a tray with a selection of drinks and foods. He lowered his head whilst Ivan permitted him to enter, this was obviously breakfast.

"I wonder why Andrew and I are not having breakfast together."

The boy left and Ivan sat as the desk once again, muching on a piece of bread.

"I most likely should not relax too much, I have work to do, best to get it out of the way first."

Placing the unfinished poem in a drawer, Ivan took another piece of parchment and began a letter, a letter to lord Endiel, a noble of the north who most likely will aid Ivan so he may participate in the gathering of the northern lords to discuss the bad harvests. if he was to become king then he needed the support of the majority of the nobles, as was the law.

From Prince Ivan Ikhaust to my good Lord Peter Endiel

I wish you the best and hope you and your family are in good health am writing to you to inform you of my visit to your humble property of Crastus Castle. I know your castle is one of the finest in the kingdom and I would be most honoured to stay there for a week or two. I am currently situated further south in Ukberg Castle, I have been resting here for a while, collecting my thoughts about the death of my beloved father. As I am sure you are aware, the harvests in the north have gone terribly, I would like to help you in restoring prosperity. I can provide influence for you at the meetings and in turn you can help me to do so, the royal selection has started so I must. Please know that I will arrive in a few day and I look forward to our meeting.

Sincerely Prince Ivan Ikhaust

Ivan ran the bell in his room for a servant to come. As commanded, one did come, and complied with the prince's request to deliver the letter. Ivan returned to his desk to finish the breakfast that he started eating.

Once done, he believed a stroll was in order to exercise the muscles so they didn't get stiff. Although a secondary reason was to locate Andrew. During his walk of the halls, Ivan ran into Markett, asking for where his best friend might be, Markett revealed that he was in the gardens, near the flower beds. Ivan thanked him and began to head straight there.

"Oh and before you go Prince Ivan. I have began spreading the news about the failed attempt on your life. It should take a while to extend across the whole kingdom so the people will have time to leave behind their sorrows for our great king, if they have any. Just as according to your plan."

"Much obliged Markett."

Upon exiting throught the doors to the garden the wind seemed to pick up, the sound of bees hard at work was prevalent. Suddenly a shrill scream resounded throught he air, hitting Ivan's ears and his concerns. Oh God no was the only thing running through his mind. He recollected that day when his father was murdered, how the first indicator he had of the situation was of a scream that echoed down the hallways, could a similiar situation unfold here? He knew there was a killer about so it wasn't impossible. Would they target Andrew next? None of the factors boded well for what was to be unveiled.

"Not my best friend!"

Going at a pace which Ivan had not ran in ages, he reached the epicentre of the scream. Complete shock engulfed him but it was quickly replaced with the sensation of relief. Instead of any murder there was a maid sitting on the ground, a spilled flower pot next to her and a black cat snarling directly at the poor woman, its green eyes fixated on its defenceless victim for a while then it scurried away with haste off to another part of the garden.

"Are you alright?" asked Ivan helping the lady off the floor and onto her feet.

"Oh I am fine, thank you very much Prince Ivan and sorry for disturbing you."

"No need for apologies, what happened here?"

"Well I was supposed to set this flower pot down here behind the beds but then that mangy cat leaped out of nowhere and gave me a fright. He's always about the place, never been friendly with us. I think he belonged to the lady of the castle long ago."

"Appears you interrupted its meal," stated Ivan looking over into the group of colours. A dead bird lay there, its torso ripped open. The blood appeared fresh so it could be deduced that the cat was the one who expunged the bird's life.

"Poor thing," remarked the woman, "now I'll have to clean up this mess. Blasted cat."

"It is just the way the world works, the strong prey on the weak."

"My lord?"

"Nevermind, I must be off."

"Oh of course, don't let an old woman like me keep you."

Ivan swiftley walked away from the scene. Although he had no qualms about death his mind thought, such a display is not worthy of my eyes.

Across more of the garden, the prince arrived at small area after looking around all the flowerbeds, a dented wooden door under an arch of well cut leaves stood in his way. His lunar hair swaying in the wind, he opened the door and entered to find a surprising scene.

Melancholy weighed heavily in the air. A ceiling of grey clouds loomed above, killing the colour of the garden. Even the leaves of the hedges were void of greenery, just a dark shade of the glory of the rest of the castle vegetation, it was like each one had been kissed by death itself and was grasping onto life. But the leaves were not the plants Ivan was focused on, instead what had caught his eye was the vast number of black roses surrounding the grassy path and in the centre stood Andrew. His head hung low but when he noticed Ivan he wiped away the despondent face and smiled. No, rather he forced a smile.

"I did not know you knew this place even existed," started Andrew.

"I did but I do not remember it being so, dispiriting."

The smile faded, looking down at the ocean of coal flowers Andrew said, "Black roses, a favourite of my mother's before she..."

"I take it this garden is meant to honour her then."

"Yes, it is. My mother was someone who was gentle and kind, she found great beauty in black roses, I do not know why though. Every so often I come here to try and remember her."

"I may sound impolite in asking but do you know where she is now?"

"No. I do not even know if she is alive or not. It is a very maddening curiosity of mine, the instinctive desire to know the fate of my own mother. That has been my goal for the past few years but everywhere I look, I find nothing. This world void of knowledge is like a curse. I can hardly bear it. I just, I want to meet her. I want her to see how grown up her son is. How I have always remained a good boy, even when there was no comforting bedtime story to put me to sleep, even when there was no shoulder to cry on, no warm embrace when I tripped and grazed my knee," Andrew's eyes began to water, "Those few short years of a mother's love I had and the many years of a mother's love I missed. I just want her to know I love her still and to thank her for the little but the great amount she did. I just...I just want to know who she is, what she looks like because I...because I..."

Ivan stood there in silence, a flurry of feelings within him. He had hardly any words of comfort. How could he, he never had a mother who left him, out of all his family members, his mother was the one he saw the most, she was always so caring and although Ivan's independence had brought him to distance himself from his mother, he still did hold some love for her. All he could do was this. Walking up to his best friend he wrapped his arms around and hugged him.

Ivan could be cold and merciless but he was not ungrateful. Not for everything the boy in front of him had done. He was a human at heart, and the sense of needing to help those closest to you still remained inside him. After all, this young noble was the one person Ivan held in highest regard. He was more than a friend, he was his brother.

"Andrew, although there is not much I can say. What I can tell you is that you must stay strong and that I will help you in your mission. If you fall down, I will pick you back up. I am your closest friend and you are mine. I have been away for too long, ignoring your suffering, I promise you that together we will find your mother and I will not rest until you do so."

"Thank you Ivan. Thank you."

Those words brought tears to his eyes but the truth was he wanted to hear words like those from his mother. Or at least from his own father.