ARELLIA

During the winter months in Orris, when the skies were enshrouded in dark clouds, my father would tell me stories of the north. Of small tribes that live under harsh conditions. He would remind me of how lucky we were that winters in Illya were warmer and more temperate compared to Khronir, where rivers and lakes would freeze and snow would litter the ground.

I had never seen snow and so I imagine it looked like glittering piles of salt on the earth. My father laughed at that. I remember the sound clearly as if it happened yesterday. I still long to one day see it for myself.

Back then, sitting snugly in his lap out there in the pavilion overlooking the royal garden, the breeze was nothing short of frigid for my small frame. My father would drape fur cloaks over my shoulders and tell me how such beautiful garments were made; how in this life, nothing comes free.

No matter how glorious the beast, some must die for us to live. An old northern wolf was killed to create my cloak. At the time, it seemed so incredibly sad that such a beautiful animal would suffer for the sake of my comfort. But, my father told me that the death was just. The wolf had long passed his prime. Killing him was a kindness.

In life, my father was a mystery to me. At the time, his teachings were just dreary ramblings of an old man. How childish I had been. In death, I finally understand him.

It is the peak of summer and yet, I feel chilled to the bone.

"Your highness…" Enka speaks from somewhere to my right, her voice is in a low whisper as if speaking any louder would startle me, causing me to break down as I did in the ballroom. I was brought to Vasilis' study after Dillon was dragged away. It is a long walk in a completely different part of the palace. I do not remember how I got here.

"You must drink," From my peripheral vision, I see a steaming cup of tea in her small hands. But, all the strength in my body has left me. She puts down the cup gently and I feel her hand settle on my shoulder.

I think of my family. My mother was the string that bound our House together, after she passed, my father took up that responsibility, ensuring that there were never any internal disputes. Now that my father has passed, Vasilis will be king. The sorrow in me is a well without a bottom. I cannot think of a worse person to wear the crown.

"Vasilis… Where is my brother?" My words are barely a whisper. Enka opens her mouth and snaps it shut. I do not question her, I stare at the ground, tired.

I reach for her hand and pull Enka close, "I need to see his body. Show me his body." My lips tremble as I say these words and tears spill over my bottom lashes. It does not seem real that my father is gone when mere hours ago, I held his arm and saw his smile. Without saying goodbye, I fear this ache in my soul will never heal.

"Your highness, I am not sure…"

"Show me! Please!" I plead. But, Enka merely stares at me, her eyes puffy and red. I am not the only one mourning.

"You will not see the body, dear sister." Vasilis' voice echoes from the corner of the room. He stands confident and tall, hands folded across his chest, his eyes brimming with purpose. How long had he been there? Watching as I break over and over. Vasilis strides over, but he does not look at me. I feel the tension in Enka, she wishes to cower away, but I hold her hand in mine, urging her to stay.

"Vasilis, please, let me say goodbye." He spins around in a fury, hand raised. But, I do not flinch.

"How long are you going to sit here and cry? Haven't you already embarrassed me enough out there at the ball?!" He grinds his teeth like he is possessed. Perhaps, anger is his only way of mourning. But, no matter the situation, he reacts with violence. Is there anything else inside him besides this ugly emotion?

"Father was killed, Vasilis! You expect me to act indifferent? I am not as heartless as you!" I spit. My heart thumps wildly, waiting for his strike. But, it does not come. Instead, he pries my hand from Enka's and drags me to my feet. There is no tenderness in his touch. It is firm, his nails dig into my wrist. Mere hours ago, I would wince from the pain. But, now I do not feel a thing.

"Get out!" He shouts and the guards storm out at once, closing the door behind them. When it clicks shut, he lets go of my hand and throws his fist at Enka. She goes down with a yelp and a gasp. I try to reach for her, but Vasilis pulls back my braid and shoves me back into my seat.

"Don't get any ideas, lovely sister," His voice is low, quiet. "Of course, I mourn father! I am not a heartless beast. But, I must run this kingdom now that he is gone. The Beast of Illya, they called him," He laughs. "Dead from poison! Pathetic!"

For my father, I do not react. I am anger, I am hatred. I am everything they taught me to never be. But, I hold his gaze as lifts a foot and smashes Enka's hand. I hear a crunch when he brings his heel down, it is a small sound like twigs snapping.

"Vasilis, enough!" I jolt from his brutality, clawing at his suit. But, he doesn't stop. My composure breaks. My handmaid knows better than to wail. She bites her other arm to stifle her cries.

"Obedient dog you have here, Arellia! She even knows not to cry!" Vasilis laughs as he brings down his boot again and again. As her hand breaks, raw, bleeding flesh is exposed. I flinch at the sound and look away. Still, my brother does not stop.

"Vasilis!" I plead as I dig my nails into his bicep and try to drag him away. But, he is twice my size. I scream his name until he elbows me in the chest. The pain does not register until I am on my knees, gasping. Have I always been this weak? Useless? My anger boils. I claw at the carpet until my nail splits. What can I do? I cannot stop him. He will kill her.

Vasilis laughs like a madman and it is not long until Enka screeches from the pain. I cannot look at her, so I squeeze my eyes shut because she and I both know she has made a mistake. Vasilis stops only to crouch down and drag her up by her hair. His fury is almost tangible, causing my body to shake with fear. Enka's face is full of pain and sorrow, drool dripping from her chin.

"How dare you make a sound!" He barks as he punches her face until Enka screams no more. Her eyes roll back, arms limp, jaws slack. I sit like a coward and cry, clutching at the fibres of the carpet.

"When you disobey your king, I will kill one of your handmaids." He drops her head onto the floor like she is a toy to be discarded. When I look into Vasilis' eyes, he smiles because he knows he has won. He has broken my spirit and soul and I am to blame. Had I been stronger, Enka would not have to face his wrath.

Mother nature was cruel to make him so terribly beautiful. Even when he lies and commits heinous acts, it is almost easy to forgive him. Tall, with tan skin and a wicked smile; he has a face made for melting hearts at court. But, it is all a mask for the wretched creature beneath. How can I live in a world where Vasilis stands proud, committing these sins while my father and mother lie dead? I feel frantic anger rising in me, like spreading cancer. It is all-consuming and vicious.

"Father's body is not yet cold and here you are pronouncing yourself king." I spit.

When Vasilis kneels and wraps his hand around my neck, animosity ablaze in his eyes, I hold his gaze. I will not yield. Even as his hand slowly tightens and my chest caves, lungs burning for air, I do not avert my gaze. I will not succumb to fear. No matter how many he kills and how much pain he inflicts; Vasilis' anger is no match for mine.

"I pity you, brother. You may wear a crown, but you will never be a king." I grunt out my words breathlessly. Vasilis' nostrils flare and I know that my words have struck true.

He does not take the bait the way I or my father would, with patience and restraint. He takes it like an entitled child who spent his life insecure and bored. He takes my words like a knife to his chest; personally.

And just as I had hoped, his only response is violence.