Damon was always taught to respect his country, his king, and his father, in that order. As prince, that made it nearly impossible to defy his father. He had not dared since he stole some sweets from the kitchen as a child. But this could not stand.
"Father?" Damon said, hitting his fist on the doors to his father's office. "Father."
"Enter," Wilhelm rumbled from inside the study. Damon stormed in to face his father, who was slumped in an armchair by the fire.
"How could you do this?" Damon demanded, forgoing the bow that etiquette required of him. "That woman, that snake, will kill him the moment he finishes his vows. And what will the people say? They'll think you've gone mad! I have never known you to be foolish, Father, but you must be mad or just stupid to --"
"I am not mad. Or stupid," Wilhelm said, keeping his eyes on the dancing flames.
"Then why, Father? How could you sacrifice your own son? How could you let Khepri infiltrate our kingdom, our royal palace, no less? Surely no resources are worth giving up Elohine to Khepri!"
"Calm down, Damon," Wilhelm murmured. "I will kill her when the time is right."
"And when will that be? You know Julian can't navigate our courts, let alone Kheprian courts, where they murder each other at the drop of hat. They'll just do the same to him. It's like you're trying to kill Julian!" Damon fumed. He paused, looking at his father closely. "Unless . . . you wouldn't."
Wilhelm sighed and faced his youngest child. "Julian will always be my son. But I cannot allow him to be king. He will destroy all that we built, along with the Carsguard name. But now, the princess will do it so I do not have to. I cannot allow it," his father repeated, seemingly to himself.
Damon blinked. "Surely there must be another way. He can abdicate the throne, can he not?"
"I asked," King Wilhelm said. "He refused."
"He refused? Why?" Damon asked. King Wilhelm shrugged. "He doesn't want to be king. He knows nothing of the responsibilities, he does nothing but drink . . . I don't understand."
"I believe he wishes to spite me," King Wilhelm said, huffing a laugh. "He was always your mother's son, and stubborn too. I think he believes he can actually rule the kingdom successfully."
"How daft," Damon said. He sat down in the armchair next to his father, seemingly in a daze.
"Do you understand, my son?" King Wilhem asked, placing his hand on Damon's shoulder.
He wasn't sure he had much of choice. Would his father kill him, too if he refused?
"But Father, doesn't that make us no better than the Kheprians?"
Wilhelm sighed. "Murder is one of the less . . . tasteful parts of court, but occasionally it is necessary to maintain order. Unlike us, Kheprians murder with impunity, and for selfish gain. No subtlety either," he said, wrinkling his nose.
"But Father . . . "
"Damon, I know this is difficult. But we both know that Julian on the throne would be disastrous. I don't want to hurt Julian," he said, his voice breaking a bit. He cleared his throat. "I just don't see any other way to protect Elohine. Though I have a duty to my sons, as King my first duty is to my country. Can you understand that?"
"I do, Father," Damon said. His voice sounded like it was coming from far away.
He smiled. "This is why I wish you to be king. You understand putting Elohine first, and you can make the tough decisions." He clapped his shoulder. "I am proud of you."
"Thank you, Father," Damon said absently. "Excuse me."
"Of course," Wilhelm said, acknowledging his hasty bow.
Damon shut the doors of the study gently behind him. He reeled for a moment before storming up the stairs and down the hall. Once again, he pounded on a door. This time, his brother opened it, smelling of alcohol.
"Come to celebrate my new betrothal with me, brother?" Julian said. "That princess had quite the set of -- "
"Did Father ask you to abdicate the throne?"
Julian's smile fell, and he staggered slightly. "Yes."
"And you refused?"
"Yes?"
"Why?"
"It is my birthright," Julian said simply, as though he were explaining why the sky was blue. "I couldn't believe the king asked me to just . . . give it away. I have known my whole life that I was to be king." Julian laughed. "Why, did you want it?"
Damon blinked. "No, no, I . . . of course not. It's just, well, you don't seem as though you want to be king. I mean, you will have to give up all of this," Damon said, gesturing towards his room.
"This?" Julian asked, looking at the mess of clothes and bottles. "No, I won't. Advisors make most of the important decisions for the king anyway, I'll just have to show up to meetings and public events and such."
"What, exactly, do you think being king is?" Damon asked.
Julian shrugged. "I don't know, brother. What are you so angry for?"
Damon turned his back on his brother, ignoring his calls as he nearly ran to his chambers. When he was safe inside his room, he collapsed on his bed, not bothering to turn the covers back or even take off his shoes. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before he felt the tears streaming down his cheeks.
His mind raced as he tried to process what his father had said. He had heard whispers of accidents or suicides being assassinations, and certainly there had been plots to kill the king or queen before -- just not in his lifetime. But the king murdering his own son? It was unheard of.
Or was it? Were the deaths of his ancestors not what they seemed? Damon stifled a sob as everything he knew about himself and his family unraveled.
He sorted through his options, wondering if he should tell Julian. He wondered what his father would do to him if he did.
Even if he told Julian, his father would just kill him anyway. The only difference is that Julian would know it was coming, and that would make it that much worse. Not to mention the chaos it would cause in court if it came out that his father was responsible.
Besides, he reasoned, he wouldn't have to do it himself.
That Kheprian whore would do it for them.