Nerin let out an exhausted groan. Isiah trailed silently behind him as he had for the last few hours. Talking to Princess Sharina had been a bad idea. He didn’t know why he let Isiah talk him into it. At least she wasn’t going to say anything. He wouldn’t let Isiah get in trouble for something he had most likely misheard.

Harudan had made him angry and as he usually did when he was angry, he snuck into whatever it was his brother was doing. Listening to Harudan wasn’t an unusual thing for him. He’d done it with his father too sometimes, but he’d grown sick of the things his father would say about Minisia and the Askari.

For the most part, Harudan never said anything of ill will about the Askari, not that he had heard anyway. But that didn’t mean he didn’t. He could have had a meeting that Nerin didn’t know about, could have had many meetings. There would be so many things that Nerin didn’t know. If the servant hadn’t babbled that night, he wouldn’t have even known that Harudan was talking to Jonin.

He never should have listened to Isiah. What did he know? He’d never left the Sanctum before now. How could Nerin have thought that he knew anything about the goings-on in the castle? He should have left it and ignored it as he had for the few days before Isiah came to him.

But that didn’t stop the doubt in the back of his mind. It might not be about the treaty, but something was wrong in Ishmar. He had to find out what. Not that Harudan would tell him. He’d taken after their father in that regard.

“You’re a child, Nerin. You don’t need to worry about these things yet,” they would tell him. But he was in his teen years now. He had to start formally learning soon. Sneaking around wasn’t going to be enough for long.

Perhaps that would be what he would tell Harudan when he requested to sit in on the treaty. There wouldn’t be another chance for him to learn how they worked if the country was lucky. If he sat in on the treaty, then he would be certain that nothing was going to happen to the Princess.

His brother waited outside the throne room and frowned when he caught sight of them walking down the hall. His guard stood at the door and Sir Jonin waited at his side, the same bored look in his eyes as ever.

Harudan moved away from the group of armoured guards to greet him. “Nerin what are you doing here?” he asked. The Princess would be there to sign the treaty soon. He had to make it quick.

“I would like to sit in on the treaty, brother,” he said. Isiah made a noise behind him. Nerin hadn’t told him of his plans to sit in. He hadn’t said much to him since lunch. “I am a teenager now, it is time for me to learn how this works. Let me sit in. I promise to be quiet.”

Harudan barely gave it a second of thought. “No, Nerin. You have classes to attend that will teach this,” he said. “A treaty is a royal matter. I don’t want you in there.”

“But I am royal,” Nerin argued. It wasn’t fair. It made no sense.

“You are a prince and you are too young to understand what is going on,” Harudan said.

“So teach me! It’s not that hard!” he cried, anger flooding through him. Footsteps pounded against the floor behind him and he turned to see Princess Sharina walking down the hall, followed by her guards.

Harudan bowed politely and nudged Nerin to do the same. “Greetings, Princess, I hope you have had a good day,” the King said.

“It has been eventful,” the Princess replied and Nerin tried not to wince. “I would quite like to get it over with so I may rest. Is everything ready?”

“You are welcome to head in. Everything has been set up. I just need two minutes to talk to my brother,” Harudan answered, gesturing at Nerin with a smile.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Of course,” she said and curtseyed at them. Her advisor and he guards followed her into the throne room and the doors closed with an echoing thud.

Harudan’s smiled dropped into something Nerin couldn’t read as he crouched down to face him. “Nerin, I don’t want you in there. You are young and reckless and I don’t want you to do something that might jeopardise this treaty. Do you understand?”

“But I won’t! I’ll-”

“You’ll go back to your room and I will have a tutor sent for an extra lesson about political affairs, how does that sound?” Harudan suggested, his voice sickly sweet.

Nerin wanted to scoff, wanted to stamp his foot and yell about how unfair it was, but that wasn’t going to help him in the slightest. “Please, Harudan. I’m not going to disturb anyone,” he said, keeping his voice as calm as possible.

“How many times do I have to tell you no?” Harudan asked in an angry hiss. He looked to Isiah, who had been standing silently behind him the entire time. “Take him back to his rooms, now. If I catch him sneaking around, you will be punished. Understand?”

Isiah nodded furiously. “Yes, your Majesty,” he muttered and touched Nerin’s hand. “Come, your Highness.” Nerin shoved the hand away and stormed off. The sound of Isiah following him echoed in his ears.

Over his shoulder, Harudan turned towards the throne room. Sir Jonin and the other guards followed after him, their armour clanking as they walked. When the doors to the throne room closed again, Nerin stopped and let out a sigh.

“What are you doing?” Isiah asked curiously. “I need to get you back to your rooms.”

Nerin huffed. “Harudan is stupid to think that I’m not going to sneak in and listen,” he said, more to himself than to Isiah. A small smile curled at his lips. “Have you ever wondered how I sneak around so well?”

The apprentice monk shook his head. “I just thought you were small and quiet. People didn’t really notice you,” he said.

Nerin moved forward, keeping his voice low as he spoke. “There are secret passages all over the castle, Isiah. I know where most of them are. I know how to get us near the throne room so we can listen. I don’t think we’ll be able to see, but it is close enough. Come.”

He grabbed Isiah’s wrist and tugged him around the corner. It took him a moment to find the right painting. There were so many on the walls and most led to other secret passages. He let out a pleased noise when he tugged on the portrait of his great grandfather and the black void of the secret tunnels opened to meet him.

“Nerin, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Isiah said warily.

He scoffed. “You’re the one who thought something bad was going to happen,” he said as he stepped through the entrance. “If we listen in, then we can see for ourselves. I hope we’re wrong.”

Isiah muttered something behind him but Nerin paid no attention to it. He stepped into the tunnel and gestured for Isiah to follow him. Any second now, someone could walk into the hallway and catch him sneaking around. If they were caught now, they’d never be able to listen in on anything. Isiah seemed to understand the urgency and stepped into the tunnel. The portrait closed behind them with a sharp tug and the pair were bathed in darkness.

Nerin had gotten used to the dark enclosed space in the tunnels, but from the sound of heavy breathing behind him, it appeared that Isiah was not at all comfortable. There had never been light to see by and most of the time he would bring a candle, but there wasn’t time. They had to get to the throne room before it was too late.

It wasn’t far, the throne room, but it was still a long walk through the passages. Nerin hurried along in silence, Isiah’s hand pressed against his shoulder. There was no way for them to get lost in the thin passage, but it was pitch black.

Voices drifted through the tiny cracks in the bricks, but Nerin couldn’t decipher what they were saying. The signing had begun. There was another painting up ahead that he knew about. It would be thinner than the other walls, easier for them to hear through. A tiny amount of light shone around the border of the large painting. When his eyes adjusted, he was able to only just make out Isaiah's figure. He held a finger to his lips and hoped the man could see him.

“It is unfortunate King Ouron couldn’t join us to sign the treaty, but I am glad he sent you in his stead, your Highness.” Harudan’s voice was barely audible through the thin gap, but it was better than nothing.

Nerin pressed his face against the wooden back of the painting. He was barely able to see through the crack between it and the wall. Princess Sharina and Harudan faced each other over a small table. Whatever was on the table wasn’t visible but it was obviously the treaty.

Princess Sharina smiled. “It is winter, your Majesty, my father must stay in Minisia to look after our people,” she replied. “If he could be here, he would have gladly come. But I am to be Queen when he passes and I must learn diplomacy.” That was the exact same reason Nerin wanted to be there. Until Harudan had children, he was the Crown Prince.

He missed whatever Harudan said next as Isiah came up behind him. He was much taller, so it wasn’t hard for them both to look through the gap. As long as they didn’t put too much pressure on the painting or make too much noise, they would be fine.

From what he could see, there was nothing out of the ordinary. But what did he know? He’d never seen a treaty before. He didn’t know how they were supposed to play out. But neither party had said or done anything to make him worry yet.

“Shall we do this?” the Princess asked in her tinkling voice.

Sir Jonin strode forward then, an ink-dipped quill in hand. He passed it to the Princess and the sound of faint scratching filled the room. When she handed the quill to Harudan, Nerin breathed out a sigh of relief. It would be signed, everything would be fine. His and Isiah’s worries had been about nothing.

“And the witnesses,” Harudan said, his voice mighty and strong. “I call upon Sir Jonin Hegor, captain of the King’s Guard.” More scratching as Jonin leaned down to sign the treaty.

“I call upon my advisor, Gerald Monstrone,” Princess Sharina said and moved aside to let her pudgy advisor through. He signed the paper with a sweating hand and moved away. Both Princess Sharina and Nerin let out sighs of relief. Isiah nudged him at the noise and he elbowed the apprentice monk in the ribs.

Harudan grabbed the treaty from the table and stared at the thick parchment. His back faced the paining and Nerin couldn’t see the look on his face, but he hoped it was something polite.

Princess Sharina smiled kindly at him and Nerin could feel the relief seeping off her. The treaty was done, signed, there had been nothing to worry about. He and Isiah had been stupid for thinking something bad was going to happen and for ever trying to talk to the Princess about it. It would have only worried her.

Nerin went to move back from the painting when a metallic sound froze him in his spot. Whatever it was wasn’t visible to him and it set his teeth on edge. The relief on the Princess’s face fell and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I do apologise, Princess, you are such lovely company,” Harudan said. Nerin blanched, a sick feeling in his stomach. “But this needs to be done.” He gripped the edge of the treaty with two big hands and pulled. The treaty fell to the ground in two large pieces and with it, any hope of peace between Brenmar and Minisia.

The Princess took a step back and grabbed at her pale pink dress. “What are you doing?” she asked, horrified. Someone gurgled behind her and her advisor stepped into view. Blood dribbled from his mouth and bloomed from the centre of his chest. His fell to the ground with a thud and the Princess screamed.

Chaos erupted. The Princess’s guards had little time to react before they too were struck down by Harudan’s guards. Nerin stood frozen behind the painting as people died with screams of pain and terror. Sir Jonin stepped forward, his sword drawn and ready to plunge into the Princess’s fragile body, while Harudan stood silently, watching. His brother, his only brother, killing innocent people for nothing more than pride.

He’d never wanted peace. He only wanted war and chaos and death. And he’d lured the Princess to Ishmar to start it. Nerin hadn’t seen it. How could he have? There was a reason Harudan never let him sit in on meetings. Because killing Princess Sharina had been the plan the entire time.

Isiah made a choked noise above him. “Nerin,” he hissed, panicked. “What do we do? We have to do something!”

But there wasn’t anything they could do. He was a child and Isiah was a pacifist. His eyes unfocused as the Princess ran from Sir Jonin, away from the doors and up towards the throne. She disappeared from view and Nerin knew that it wouldn’t be long before she let out one final scream. Isiah continued to speak, but his words were dull noises that he barely heard. There was no point in listening. There was nothing they could do.