Page 15 of The Lionheart’s Bond (Bonds of Dusk and Dawn #1)

JUDEL

T he water ran down his body, dragging dust and dirt after a day of wandering the forest. He had been surprised at how close from home he was when he came to. The guards had startled as they saw him approach when the sun was still high up, his lion form striding lazily up the hill, as he made his way to his room. He had slept, while he waited, images of Isidore still blinking in his mind.

He rushed to dress and meet his sister. The faster he got that over with, the faster he could get back to the young man that had occupied so much of his thoughts all day.

A guard informed him the queen was down in the dungeons, confronting the prisoner once more. He heard the grunt, the screech of wood against rock, and a spit before he even got to the door.

The prisoner was lying on the floor, when Judel looked through the bars. Nahel was pushing him with her booted foot, the man grunting in response, while a guard stood behind her.

‘Well, you’re still alive,’ she said, opening and closing her fist, her knuckles bloodied. Neisha must have refused to do it.

‘You can keep trying, bitch,’ the man spat in the old tongue. It made Judel’s blood boil, but Nahel kicked him in the stomach. She was more than capable of taking care of herself.

‘Get him back on his feet,’ she ordered to the guard, before walking out of the cell.

‘You’re back. You’re the first.’ She wiped her hands on a rag she’d pulled out of her boot.

He nodded, his eyes still on the cell.

‘Still nothing?’

She shook her head.

‘Maybe he simply doesn’t know anything. I’ll try for a couple of more days, then we’ll have to kill him.’

‘Why?’ Judel wasn’t ready to get rid of the prisoner. They still didn’t know why he was here and why he had attacked Isidore in the first place. It probably was coincidence, but wouldn’t he had said so by now?

‘We can’t keep him forever. He’s not a pet, brother.’ She patted his arm as she walked past him.

Judel rolled his eyes.

‘We could try other things?’

‘If you’ve any new strategies that neither I nor Nel might have thought up, please do share.’ She didn’t even turn to look at him when she spoke.

Judel ground his teeth together.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said, leading him into the hall, ‘I’ll figure it out. Anything to report today?’

‘No, nothing.’ He was hardly going to explain how he had spent all his conscious time thinking about Isidore and the way his skin felt, or his lips tasted.

The boy had taken him by surprise. He would not waste time pretending his intentions had been less than pure when he had offered to rub his back, but he had not expected Isidore to be so keen, nor that he would go that far.

It was not all a pretext, though. Judel did want to help him with any aches. Training can be demanding for someone with no experience. Starting like that would cause a lot of muscle swelling and pain. He had wanted to feel him closer, yes. Kiss him maybe. Touch him, of course. Whether because the discoveries he made about his past relationship and how his entire family knew, or because of what his sister had said, he had craved Isidore’s proximity.

Finding somebody who would like them for who they were—it seemed almost impossible. But Isidore liked him. He knew his secret and he hadn’t retreated in horror.

Judel smiled to himself on his way up the stairs, but once more, Isidore wasn’t in the room.

The prince didn’t panic this time, turning to the training ring instead, but it was only Captain Helge and a half dozen new recruits running drills, exhaustion dragging their bodies down.

‘Your Highness,’ Helge said, the rest of the soldiers accompanying him in a shy choir. The captain pulled his sleeves up as he bowed. ‘If you’re looking for Young Isidore, he was here earlier, and we practiced for quite some time, but as the sun set, he was called into the yard.’

‘The yard?’ What could he be doing there?

‘The small yard,’ Helge specified.

His face stretched upwards with surprise. He thanked the captain for his information, before making his way to the side door, into the kitchens. Through the hustle of dinner preparations, no one paid attention to him, the perfect opportunity to steal a bread roll. Only as he walked past the tables did it gain him a glare from the cook. A grin on his lips, he walked out of the back, to find Isidore there, helping his brothers with their clothes.

Isidore helped Arte with his shirt and handed Naran his trousers. Merudel waited expectantly for his own clothes, while Ponar was already fully dressed. They all crowded Isidore, in various stages of undress, and Judel became acutely aware that they were all much closer in age with the young man than he was. They asked questions, babbling away, talking over each other and making no sense.

‘Here you are,’ Judel said, his tone cold and short.

Isidore followed the sound of his voice, and their eyes met. The light of the torches danced in the green reflection. Judel wondered what it would be like to look into those big green eyes under the sunlight with his human eyes.

A dull ache wrapped around his heart. What other lovers might be able to offer was out of Judel’s reach to give. No walks, no picnics, no bathing in the lake in summer, not during daytime anyway. All they had was a few hours in the evening. And at least they were in winter, when the nights were longer; it’d be harder, later in spring and summer.

‘I’m starving,’ Ponar said to Arte, who looked at his brother. ‘I know, we have to see Nahel. It’s ten minutes of our lives entirely wasted. We spend the days in this yard, what could we possibly have to tell her?’ He grunted as they all filed out of the kitchen, stealing an apple or a bread roll on their way out. ‘If she at least let us stay, after.’

‘I see the queen put you to work.’ Judel couldn’t stop himself from getting closer.

‘At least with these ones, it won’t hurt so much if they bite me.’ A smile brightened Isidore’s face.

‘Have you eaten?’

Isidore shook his head. As they stood in the kitchen, all the cooks and servants pretended they were not paying attention to them.

‘I was waiting for you,’ he said. ‘What are the cloaks for?’

Judel smiled, unable to stop himself, a gesture so strange to him it felt unnatural. The kitchen workers were so shocked the gawked at them.

‘Come,’ he said, draping one of the cloaks over Isidore’s shoulders.

The young man nodded, enthusiasm sparkling in his eyes.

‘But first,’ Judel turned on his heels and grabbed two apples and two more bread rolls and ran out, pulling Isidore by the hand. This time the cook did yell at him, but he was too far to care. He looked over his shoulder, smiling at Isidore, on his way to the stairs.

‘Here, put these in your pockets.’ He handed him the food and took an oil lamp from a nearby hook. ‘There are a few steps to go.’

Many, many steps. There were the four floors of the castle itself and then up the tower, all the way around to the battlements.

Judel went slow, letting Isidore catch his breath. It was a long climb.

‘I’m dizzy,’ he said with a self-conscious chuckle.

‘Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon. Keep your eyes on your feet.’

Isidore nodded, and they kept going, Judel still holding his hand.

At the top, the prince pushed the trapdoor, and it flung over, the hinges crying loudly, the wood hitting the floor. Cold, dry air kissed their cheeks as they stepped out, the night crisp and the sky clear.

Isidore’s expression was weary when he stepped out.

‘Lie down,’ he said closing the trapdoor, and dropping to the floor himself.

‘Why?’

‘You’ll see.’

Isidore hesitated for a split second but soon followed suit.

‘Come on.’ He pulled the boy down faster and they both lied on their backs.

‘This is uncomfortable,’ Isidore said, shuffling around.

Lying along his side, the young man’s warmth spread towards him, and he found himself shuffling closer.

‘Shut up and look.’ He pointed up and finally, Isidore followed the direction on his finger.

From the tower, the view was quite impressive during the day, but during the night, the spectacle was above their heads.

Once Isidore’s eyes were lost in the ocean of stars above them, the hard floor didn’t seem to bother him so much.

The sky clear of clouds and no moon, the only light came from the stars. The glowing dots drew a path, splitting the dark confines of the Overworld, the lights leading to the Gracious Gardens, the Scrolls said. Rarely was the route so clear or so bright. Judel could lie there all night, looking up at the endless sky, the current of brightness leading his imagination to other places, better worlds where life was not this hard. Stranded in the stillness of that beauty, he felt as if no harm could touch them.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Isidore said, his voice so soft Judel wasn’t sure if he was talking to him, or if the boy had forgotten about his presence entirely. ‘Thank you.’

‘What for?’ Judel asked.

‘For bringing me here.’

Judel blushed, not knowing how to reply.

They lied in silence, their eyes jumping from one star to the next, discovering a new luminous spot no matter where they looked. Judel took a deep breath. This was one of the few pleasures he had left and one of the few things he was grateful for. At least, the curse hadn’t taken the nights from them too.

‘I didn’t take you for such a romantic,’ Isidore said.

‘Because I’m a brute?’ he grunted, half-joking.

He could feel Isidore frowning even as he kept his eyes on the sky.

‘I don’t know,’ the young man shrugged. ‘In part.’

Judel chuckled.

‘What are the other parts?’

‘Hmmmm, I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that you’re a prince and I thought you would be too busy leading and achieving things.’

‘The curse took care of all that,’ Judel replied.

Isidore didn’t say anything, dropping on his back again, eyes to the stars. The young man shuffled until his head rested on Judel torso and he could look up at him by turning his head.

‘Is it painful?’ he asked.

Judel tensed, the question unexpected.

‘It was unbearable the first time. I’m numb to it now. I know it’s coming but once it’s over, the pain fades quickly. There is no way around it, anyway, so I try not to think about it too much.’

‘Is it the same for all of you? Merudel, Naran, Ponar and Arte, the difference in size between their real bodies and their animal shape is quite dramatic. Does it hurt the same for them?’

‘I don’t know. They were still children when it happened. Ponar was only thirteen, still a child.’ Judel bit down, grinding his teeth. The first few years were so dark and empty, it was hard to think back on them.

‘You must have been so scared,’ Isidore said.

The words were simple, clean even, the tone concerned enough but not burdened by pity. And yet, his eyes filled with wetness unfamiliar to him. No one had acknowledged that before, and he felt the urge to bring Isidore closer to him.

As if sensing his mood, Isidore stopped asking questions and sat up, taking the food out of his pocket. In the deep shadows cast by a single oil lamp, he took a huge bite out of a bread roll. ‘This is delicious. Nothing beats freshly baked bread.’

Judel lifted himself on his elbows watching Isidore chew on the bread.

‘They didn’t feed you much when you were in that man’s service, did they?’

Isidore looked at him first, then back at the stars.

‘My wellbeing wasn’t quite at the top of their priorities, but I managed. It wasn’t always easy, but I did what I had to do…’ His voice faded first, leading to a moment of silence. He chuckled then. ‘My education didn’t matter either, but they considered me another peasant, so I suppose that was to be expected. Luckily my parents had taught me plenty before I was taken.’

‘Are your parents still alive?’

Isidore stopped chewing halfway through his piece of bread and stared blankly ahead. A shiver ran through the boy and Judel reached out to touch his hand. Isidore turned a terrified look to him. Had he upset him?

But the moment passed quickly and Isidore finished the bread, biting into an apple next.

‘I’m not sure,’ he shrugged. ‘I don’t even know where they are. I wouldn’t have the first idea how to get back.’

‘You don’t even remember the name of a place or a village near their land?’

Because they must have land. They must have some status. It wasn’t that Lord Torell who had taught Isidore to be so well spoken. Isidore had the manners of someone who had been raised in a noble family.

‘I don’t really. I remember the colour of the rug in my bedroom and my mother’s voice. I remember the books in my father’s library. I even remember all the places the armchair I sat in to read was worn out. But I couldn’t make my way back there.’

‘How old were you when you were taken?’ Judel sat up, elbows on his knees now.

‘Fifteen.’

‘And you are now, what? Twenty-three? Twenty-four?’

‘Twenty-five,’ Isidore replied wrapping his arms around his knees. ‘It’s hard to believe ten years have gone by. Now that I’m not in Stonehollow anymore, it all feels like a bad dream.’

Judel nodded, his chest squeezing in anger. The way they had found him, squalid, covered in scars. It would be an understatement to say they hadn’t treated him well. But what else could he expect from Kaletians? If he could get five minutes with that Lord Torell, he’d wring his neck with his bare hands.

‘We got you now,’ Judel said, pushing a strand of red hair away from the boy’s face. His fingertips grazed the pale cheeks. ‘You’re cold, let’s go back in.’

‘Not yet,’ Isidore said, and he pushed Judel onto his back, raising himself above him. ‘We’ll warm up a bit first,’ the boy grinned.

Isidore lowered himself until his lips pressed against Judel’s mouth. Soft, hot and sweet like a summer’s night, warmth ran through him like hot liquor.

His temperature rose as Isidore’s hands became curious, pulling at bits of his clothes, fingers searching as their tongues tangled. They were cold when they reached the bare skin of his stomach. Judel’s body spasmed, his cock swelling under his clothes, their kisses growing more urgent.

Grabbing Isidore by the shoulders, he pulled him off.

He looked into the other man’s eyes, barely visible in the dim light from the lamp.

‘What… Let’s go inside, shall we?’ Why was his voice wavering?

Isidore didn’t reply, eyes trained on him as Judel got up, heart thudding in his ears. He heard more than saw Isidore shuffle back onto his feet. He came closer, his arms wrapping around Judel’s neck, kissing him once more. Isidore tasted like morning. He tasted like the sun and Judel could barely contain himself. His arms tightened around the other man and Isidore’s tongue took possession of his mouth.

‘Isidore, come,’ he said between kisses, trying to retain some self-control. ‘I’ll take you inside.’

Isidore pulled away from the kiss only to drag his lips along his jaw, his saliva hot on his skin.

‘Will you?’ he asked, his voice soft and melodious. ‘Will you bury inside me and pound into me until you come?’

‘Isidore?’ he asked, feeling his resolve weaken. This side of him was unexpected. It seemed now that the forwardness from the previous night was only a glimpse at the hunger dwelling inside the young man’s body. His fingers clenched into the other man’s shoulders. ‘What’s going on?’

Isidore’s voice came again, velvety, close to his ear as his lips tickled him with every word.

‘I just want to make you feel good,’ he said, busying his lips under his ear and down his neck. A hand straggled down his front and wrapped around his overly sensitive cock, making him step back until his back hit the battlement.

Isidore undid the laces of his trousers with deft fingers as his mouth dropped along his neck and the part of his chest he could reach through the open collar of his shirt, his mouth blistering hot.

But he dropped to his knees and Judel’s lungs emptied all at once. Isidore pulled his trousers down, freeing his erection. His hands were not cold anymore when they wrapped around him. Judel grunted at the grip, firmer than he had expected. In the dark, Isidore’s touch felt more intense, his skin softer, his hands stronger, and when he felt Isidore’s hot breath on the tip, his whole world shifted upside down. The first pass of his tongue drove pleasure so hard into him it bent him over.

‘I’m glad you like it,’ he heard Isidore say, a chuckle lingering in his voice.

Not giving him a respite, Isidore took him in his mouth. His lips wrapped around Judel, tongue lapping at the thin skin with intensity, twirling around him as Isidore took more and more of him.

‘Isidore,’ he grunted, but Isidore ignored him, moving his head around, helping himself with his hands as he licked and sucked on him. His movements were confident, unlike his hesitant touches of the previous night, there was no second guessing in what he was doing now.

The pleasure climbed faster than he thought it possible. He heard Isidore move, and looked down, trying to make sense of what he saw. Isidore’s face was in the shade, the lamp behind him, but the way his shadow moved, he had lowered his hand and now was moving it down there, somewhere below. Too distracted by what Isidore was doing with his mouth, it took him a moment to realize the young man was touching himself. The image of it became like a flash in his mind and the thought so arousing, his cock twitched inside Isidore’s mouth. Unable to stop himself, he grabbed at the boy’s head and let the pleasure sway him, reality losing its hold on him as his mind filled with the vapours of bliss, his body contracting, pushing his pleasure through him and out, grunting with every spasm, every hit, until he was spent and exhausted.

Sliding out of the young man’s mouth, he fell onto his knees. His forehead on Isidore’s shoulder, he tried to get his breath back in control, his heart loud in his ears. Isidore buried his face in his neck as his hand moved faster now.

Judel followed the line of his arm until he could wrap his hand over Isidore’s, helping him pleasure himself, hearing his pants and whines by his ear.

‘I’m…’ But Isidore’s body seized and his cock swelled until it released on the floor between them. Both of them spent now, they leaned against each other. Judel pulled away just to kiss Isidore, aroused by the taste of his mouth.

‘That was…’ he tried to say, but words wouldn’t come out. ‘That was amazing. I’ve never felt anything like that before.’ It was more than that, he thought, but he couldn’t find the words to explain it any better. ‘Well, I suppose my ex wasn’t that experienced—’

Isidore stiffened in his arms and pulled away from him, leaving him feeling cold and alone. Concerned, Judel got to his feet and redressed himself.

‘Is something the matter?’ he asked.

‘No, of course not.’

‘Did you not want to…’ Judel hadn’t asked for anything, he hadn’t even tried anything.

‘No, I wanted to. I did.’ Isidore shrunk right under Judel’s eyes. ‘I wanted to do it this time,’ he said, his voice so faint it was hard to hear.

Judel came closer, his heart thudding in his chest, the words ‘this time’ filled him with apprehension.

‘This time?’ he asked, his voice low and loaded with a rage he wasn’t sure he would be able to contain. He came closer to Isidore, holding him by the shoulders, forcing Isidore to face him. The light from the lamp now between them, they reflected on the tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘What did they do to you?’

Isidore met his eyes, his mouth in a tight line.

‘Isidore,’ he demanded, not sure he could control his anger, ‘tell me what they did.’

His face contracted in pain, and a shaky breath came out of his lips when he opened them to speak. ‘I… I did what I had to do,’ was all he said.

He didn’t know what Isidore meant, and then he remembered. Only moments earlier, Judel had asked him about being fed, when he was at Stonehollow, and he had said those words. Those exact words.

Rage seized him so; he thought he could destroy that man’s entire castle with his bare hands. His body tensed so hard it hurt, anger so strong he didn’t know what to do with it.

‘I’ll fucking kill them all, Isidore, you hear me?’ he grunted, his hands digging into the man’s shoulders. ‘I’ll pull them apart one limb at a time. I’ll—’

But Isidore freed himself from his hands and slammed into him, wrapping his arms around Judel’s neck, holding tight onto him.

‘It’s fine. It’s all fine, Judel. I… It’s my fault. I wanted to do it. With you. I wanted to. It’s just that…’ He swallowed, the sound loud in the prince’s ear. ‘It was just a bad memory, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter, yes?’

His voice, pleading for people who had hurt him, broke his heart, and his rage multiplied tenfold. He feared he might hurt the young man if he didn’t release him soon, his anger climbing so fast, but Isidore held onto him tighter.

‘Just… Can you hold me, please?’

Judel deflated like a balloon at the tone of his voice. Something so simple. That’s all he asked. As he wrapped his arms around Isidore and pulled him tighter against his own chest, the prince couldn’t fathom who would do something like that to him.

They held each other close for a long time, their bodies warm wrapped in each other’s cloaks.

‘Come on,’ Judel whispered, ‘let’s go inside and I’ll show you how you deserve to be treated.’

Isidore nodded as Judel found his hand, interlacing their fingers.

He yawned, suddenly exhausted. It had been a long day, full of emotional ups and downs. The excitement, the rage, the sadness at the end had taken everything out of him. At Isidore’s door, he looked forward to lying in bed with him, wrapping him into his arms and not letting him go. Isidore had followed him quietly, almost absent, but his hand firm in Judel’s grasp, and remained so even as Judel was beginning to close the door of the room. It was the sound of rapid footsteps and voices echoing outside that stopped him in his tracks.

‘Stay here,’ Judel said to Isidore, rushing out, a frown on his brow. What else could possibly happen now?

Two guards ran past him as he made it to the ground floor.

‘Get him!’ Helge yelled from behind them, striding with the slow inertia of a storm.

‘What happened, Captain?’

‘Your Highness, the prisoner tried to escape.’

Judel made as to follow them, but the Captain held him back.

‘Not necessary, my lord. They will have him soon. He ran out with his hands still tied; he won’t make it far.’

As if to prove their captain right, two guards dragged the prisoner back mere seconds later. Nahel and Neisha joined them at that moment, followed closely by most of his brothers, some of them leaning over the balustrades, above their heads.

The man swore and spat as he was forced to kneel in front of his sister, Neisha and him. For the first time since the day he was captured, Judel got a chance to see the man’s face. Purple, swollen flesh encased his left eye, extending towards his jaw. At other times, he might have felt pity for the man, willed him to talk, for his own good, but not today. Not after what he had learnt about Isidore’s days in Stonehollow. Whoever this man was, he had also hurt Isidore and deserved what he got.

‘You’ve exhausted my patience, prisoner,’ Nahel said, looking down on the man. ‘If you will not reveal anything to us, I have no use for you. You obviously know nothing relevant to us.’ She unsheathed the long dagger at her hip.

The man’s eyes bulged as they followed the movement of the perfectly balanced blade.

‘Your Majesty, I might… That’s no reason to kill me. Maybe Lord Torell would be willing to pay for my safe return.’

Lord Torell? Could he really have come after Isidore? Would a Kaletian Duke worry so much about a servant?

Someone shuffled behind him, and Judel turned to see, almost afraid of who he would find. A few steps up on the stairs, Isidore watched the scene, all colour gone from his face. He hadn’t been that pale since taking that bolt to the shoulder.

‘You!’ the man said, and when Judel turned, he realized the prisoner was looking at Isidore. ‘I thought you had escaped, but look at you, all pampered here, with your enemy.’

Judel looked at Isidore, whose hands were trembling now, his eyes wide, frozen.

‘You know this man?’ Nahel asked him.

Isidore shuffled, looking straight at him, his eyes shiny with tears and his hands covering his mouth.

The man laughed, but Judel could only stare at Isidore.

‘I do, Your Majesty. He’s my lord’s eldest, useless son. He escaped recently and my lord sent me looking for him.’

Isidore’s eyes now moved away from Judel and stared at the man, frowning, as if he didn’t understand the words being spoken. Judel couldn’t blame him. He had trouble figuring out what was happening too, his mind refusing to process the information.

‘How recently?’

‘Just over a month ago,’ he said. ‘We were moving prisoners—’

‘What prisoners?’ Nahel asked, taking a step forward.

‘I don’t know, Your Majesty. We went to pick them up. I wasn’t there… Lord Torell sent for me so I could track this one down. He just ran away. He has always been trouble. Always messing with the animals. Lord Torell didn’t know what to do with him anymore.’

‘Lord Torell?’ Isidore’s voice sounded distant, distorted. As if it didn’t belong to him. ‘Lord Torell is not my father! I didn’t grow up with Lord Torell,’ Isidore yelled at the man. Meanwhile, Judel’s head was swimming in confusion.

If Lord Torell was Isidore’s father, that meant Isidore had lied. Everything he told them was made up, even what he told him in the tower moments ago. He had lied to him; he had lied to his sister. To the queen.

Would he always be a fool, constantly falling for everyone’s deceptions?

His heart beat a red-hot pace into his chest, anger rising through his body like a bloody tide, but Isidore wasn’t even looking at him.

‘Who is your father, then? You lil’ shit. You’ve always been so ungrateful. Your father did everything for you, but you dishonoured him with your lack of—’

‘Shut up!’ the queen snapped.

Isidore grew even paler as their eyes met.

Murmurs ran through the gallery. Everybody was there to witness his humiliation. Deceived, once again. His eyes burned, and his body ached with tension.

‘Take him,’ he heard himself say, and Isidore took a step toward him. It happened so slowly, as if Isidore was moving through mud. His pretty face distorted in such a horrified grimace of pain.

The guards hesitated, their eyes drifting to the queen.

‘Take him,’ he yelled at them, his voice echoing through the castle, sounding more like the roar of his animal form than his human voice.

The guards bowed their heads and grabbed Isidore by the arms, forcing him on his knees.

‘No! It’s not true,’ he begged, looking directly at him, tears falling freely from his glassy green eyes. It pulled at his heart to see that distressed expression face again, but the pain of the open wound he had just received was too acute to be swayed by another teary face. Hadn’t she cried, too, when she left him?

‘Aye, here you go again, bawling. You always complained about your father, treating you this and that way. Bah, he should have gotten rid of you, if you ask me but—’

The slap put a stop to his words.

‘You forget your place, prisoner,’ Nahel said, stretching her hand after the hit. ‘It’s information, I’ll give you that, but I doubt it’s valuable enough to save your life.’

‘But, Your Majesty, Lord Torell will definitely pay good coin to get his son back. The boy is hopeless, but my lord is fond of him nonetheless.’

‘Stop lying,’ Isidore yelled.

‘Quiet,’ the prince grunted at him. Isidore shrank onto himself under Judel’s merciless glare.

‘I’m not interested in coin,’ Nahel said.

‘But—’

His next words turned to gurgles.

Nahel had slashed his throat so fast the movement of her blade had just been a glimmer cutting through the air. The metal dragged blood, expelling it onto the floor in a gooey splat, the drops of crimson staining the stone. The metallic smell filled the air, a heavy silence pinning them down. Nahel cleaned the blade on her thigh before sheathing it back at her waist.

That tension slowly fading, all eyes were turning back to Isidore, who watched the dead body with bulging, wet eyes, the growing puddle of blood reflected on their perfect green. His breathing was shallow, lips trembling.

‘Guard, give me your sword,’ Judel said, extending an open hand.

The guard didn’t hesitate this time and handed over the weapon.

‘Judel,’ his sister said, as if to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t be a fool any longer, and he wouldn’t let a few tears sway him either.

The weight of the steel in his hand felt good. This is what completed him. He didn’t need the love of another when he was armed. A sword didn’t lie, nor would it break his heart.

The blade’s edge rested against Isidore’s throat, heartbeat swelling against the steel. Only a few minutes ago, Isidore was baring that same throat for him to kiss, atop the tower, his private space, a place he had never shared with anyone else before. To think Judel had planned to hold him all night and felt anger strong enough to burn the world for him.

To think that this would happen again.

‘Ju—’ Isidore tried, and Judel pressed the blade to his throat harder, a drop of blood rolling along the edge, sliding against the steel, red and glossy. ‘Your Highness, it’s not true. I was taken, I swear…’ His tears made it impossible for Isidore to continue.

Judel found it hard to breathe. His heart beat too fast, his chest too tight, too sore. He pulled his arm back, ready to deliver the coup de grace, but he made a mistake

One last time, he thought. One last time, he’d look into those eyes. Big, green, shiny with tears. Isidore face was a portrait of pain. Judel kept telling himself he was just scared for his life, that whatever suffering Isidore was going through right now, it had nothing to do with him, the boy just wanted to survive.

But the more he told himself that, the more his sword dropped, until the point was resting against the floor and not, as he had first thought he wanted, separating the boy’s head from the rest of his body.

Angry at himself, at the boy, at his sister for allowing this, at his brothers for watching; he threw the sword across the floor and grabbed Isidore by the arm, pulling him free of the guards. He dragged him away, down the castle’s entrails, faint words of ‘leave him’ chasing after him as he left all those judging eyes behind.

‘Judel, please—’

‘Shut up,’ he warned.

‘But it’s not true, Lord Torell is not my father!’

Judel pulled him around until they faced each other, his fingers digging into the weak arm, pinning Isidore against the wall.

‘Who is your father then?’

Isidore blinked, tears rolling down his cheeks. Judel watched his lips, expecting him to say the words, begging fate that he would say a name. Any name. ‘Just make it up,’ the thought so surprising he closed his eyes against it.

But Isidore couldn’t answer. He couldn’t come up with a name for the same reason he didn’t know where his so-called father lived, or where he had grown up. All lies.

‘I thought you liked me,’ he said, laughing manically. ‘I thought you liked me, and I trusted you. I defended you when my brothers suspected you. And now here we are. You took me for an idiot. You were obviously right.’

‘Judel, please, listen to me. I swear to you, he’s not my father.’ His tears ran down his face, and Judel only felt disgust.

‘Let’s go,’ he said, pulling him again.

The torches didn’t do much to light up the corridors properly down there. They had nobody in the cells now. The dead quiet only broken by the incessant sobs, and a distant drop hitting the floor, farther into the dungeons. He opened the first cell and pulled Isidore around, pushing him in so violently, Isidore fell, his head hitting the hard ground. Isidore grunted in pain.

Judel froze, eyes on the young man. Confused, he took a step in, reaching down for the boy before his mind could catch up to his heart again. He stopped himself as Isidore lifted his head, pressing his hand against it, an eye closed, hissing between his teeth.

‘Please, listen to me. I know I can’t tell you about my father, I just don’t remember. I don’t know why I don’t remember. I wish I could but there is something—’

‘Enough! I’ve had enough of being treated like the court’s biggest moron. Judel stood very still, his breathing going in and out too fast. ‘You should be proud of yourself; you really fooled me!’

Isidore protested against that accusation. He called for Judel well after the gate slammed shut. The prince could still hear him call his name up the stairs, and past the baths and the kitchen, and into his room. Even with the door closed, he could hear Isidore’s painfully desperate voice call his name. No matter how hard he tried, Isidore’s pleas still rang loudly in his ears all night, until the sun was the one to put an end to the prince’s misery.