Revenge

Prologue

It was well past sunset when the young prince snuck out of his rooms, padding barefoot on the cold stone floor of the palace. Torches lit the dark halls, guiding his way down to the first floor where the kitchens were located. A place that was always so bright and full of activity, was now silent and dark. Perfect for a mischievous little prince whose stomach demanded he take advantage of the abandoned space. 

He dragged a stool out from its place beside the door and placed it in front of the cupboard. Climbing up, he reached his hands up to grasp the handle, swinging the door open to reveal the prize inside. He wasn't capable of making much without the help of the palace staff but tonight, all he wanted was a quick snack. He reached for the stack of sweet rolls, only for a crack to split through the quiet room. Before he could wonder what it was, he felt the stool wobble and suddenly he was falling- 

And then landing softly into a pair of arms. 

He looked up, giving the Queen of Belmont a sheepish grin. 

"Elliot," she chided sternly. "What have I told you about sneaking about in the middle of the night?"

"You told me not to do it," Elliot said as he stuck his lower lip out in a pout. "But I was hungry."

Setting him on the ground, she pushed aside the broken stool and took out the roll he had been reaching for. "Perhaps you wouldn't be if you ate all your food at dinner." 

"I don't like that food."

"What don't you like about it?" She asked, handing him the roll. 

"The meat." One of Elliot's favourite pastimes was going out into the gardens and playing with the bunnies and birds and any other animals that came across his path. Up until he was ten, he blissfully ate anything that was placed in front of him. Then his father took him hunting for the first time and he saw the brutal fate of the animals and couldn't manage to eat anything without thinking of how his father ended the innocent lives of the creatures he considered friends. 

The Queen let out a soft chuckle. "Well, you don't have to eat that part if you don't like it. There are plenty of other things that you might enjoy."

His heart lifted at the thought. "Really?"

"Yes, but only if you come along to bed now."

Elliot nodding eagerly, folding his hand into his mother's as they made their way back to their rooms. He chewed on his roll as they went, the torch light flickering behind them. There always seemed to be a draft in the palace, no matter how many furs lined Elliot's bed, he was always cold. The bare feet didn't help and he regretted not wearing his silk slippers, a gift from his mother when she first discovered his late night adventures. As much as she claimed to hate his wonderings, she seemed to always find amusement in whatever mischief Elliot found himself in. 

As they walked, Elliot's eyes caught movement in the shadows. He blinked but it was gone. Thinking he imagined it, he focused on the roll in his hand, chalking it up to his tired eyes playing tricks on him. 

Then, he saw it again, only this time it paused and he could make out the shape of... A human? "Mom, I think there's-"

A sound cut them off, like metal dragging against stone. They both froze and his mother's hand tightened around his own. All of a sudden, the torches went out and they were cast into complete darkness. His mother's hand was ripped away just as a horrifying scream split the air. Elliot didn't know what to do, his heart was hammering in his chest, his fear clouding over any rational thought. 

The sound of ripping fabric broke his momentary panic and he started running, shouting for someone, anyone to help. He heard the sound of footsteps and then the guards appeared from around the corner, carrying torches of their own, swords already drawn. They stopped when they saw him, mouth's opening to question what happened before a sight behind him seemed to make them freeze. 

Elliot was about to turn around and look when one of the guards grabbed him and started running in the other direction, a hand on the back of his head pressing his face into their chest so he couldn't see anything but darkness. 

He heard the sound of fighting in the background and more screaming, slowly becoming muffled the further the guard dragged him away. He wanted to fight, to run back and see what was happening, to see if his mother was okay but it's like his body had a mind of its own, remaining frozen in fear.

Then he was being set down, the guard placing him in a small box. "Stay here and don't make a sound, okay? Wait for someone to come and get you."

Without knowing what else to do, Elliot nodded and the lid was closed so he was cast into complete darkness. He wasn't sure how long he was stuck there but his muscles were starting to cramp and the darkness felt like it was closing in around him, suffocating him. He couldn't breathe in there, there wasn't enough air, they must have forgotten about him, he would be trapped in there forever, he-

Light blinded him as the lid was opened and he was lifted out by his mother's maid, Lillian. Blinking, he took in the sunlight streaming through windows and realized he had been stuck in the box all night. 

"Are you all right, your highness?" Lillian's voice brought him back to the present.

"Where's my mom?" He asked, shaking out his sore limbs as soon as she had set him down. 

Something clouded Lillian's eyes and she opened her mouth to respond when someone else's voice did instead. 

"She's dead."

Elliot whipped his head around to stare at his father as he entered the room with two guards flanking him. 

"What?" His voice couldn't have been more than a whisper.

"She's dead and it's your fault," his father continued. "You're old enough to know better than to scavenge the kitchen in the middle of the night like some starving peasant. Because of your reckless behaviour, your mother had to leave the safety of her rooms to find you."

His father's tone wasn't cruel. He spoke as if he were reciting facts like the professors in Elliot's classes when he has trouble understanding certain terms. However, his words pierced Elliot like a knife twisting into his heart, digging deeper and deeper the further he went on. 

"From now on, there will be a curfew in place. You are not to leave your room once the sun has set, do you understand me?"

Elliot nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. Once he was gone, he turned to Lillian, who had watched the exchange in angry silence. She knelt down in front of him, wiping away the tears that had escaped. "He had no right to speak to you that way, your highness," she whispered. "It's not your fault. Your mother wouldn't want you burdening yourself with that guilt, you hear?"

He nodded if only so she wouldn't stay and try to comfort him. He wanted to be alone. Because despite what she said, Elliot couldn't help but think that her words were untrue. His mother was dead. And it was his fault.