It's not real.

It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, please Gods it can’t be real.

But it is.

The shouting surrounds me as strong hands force my arms behind my back and pin them firmly in place.

“How dare you!”

“What have you done?”

“Someone go for help!”

My vision swims and the ground beneath me sways. It’s too loud. I’m gonna be sick. I think as the hands on me drag me from the balcony and start shoving me down the hall.

“Rot in hell prince killer!”

Someone shouts from within the crowd and at the same moment that something hard connects with my skull.

I barely register the pain, it's all I can do to stay on my feet as it is.

Prince killer. Is that what I’ve become to these people? Some horrible monster out to overthrow the monarchy?

I admit the monarchy is total shit, but I wouldn’t kill anyone over it. I mean sure, the king is cruel, the queen is a narcissist, the princess is actually not bad, but the prince can die for all I care, and- Oh lord, maybe I really am what they say.

Maybe I subconsciously pushed the prince off the balcony because in some remote part of my brain I really do want to see him die.

Things do not look good for me.

A hard shove sends me stumbling to my knees and only then do I take a look around. I am in a dimly lit room with a single wooden plank that must serve as a bed and a small window overlooking steep cliffs. The dungeon. I recognize vaguely from my only other time being here. Back when I was just a kid and hadn’t realized yet that calling the King a nasty pervert wasn’t something polite society did.

Wow, my life is sooo great! At least I get to be sarcastic before I die!

I let out a sad little laugh at that and sink down until my ass touches the cold stone floor.

I wonder if anyone will come see me before I die? I think to myself as I sit and stare blankly at the wall in front of me.

I don’t have to wait long to find out as no sooner do I have the thought, then there is a commotion at the door. Awkwardly, because my hands are tied behind my back, I turn around so that I can peer through the bars.

There on the other side, stands two of my youngest siblings Bean, and Brie and just beyond them are Bran and Clementine, who are currently staring daggers at the guards stationed outside my cell.

As soon as they notice me watching them they stop what they were doing and focus on me.

“Howsit hangin, little bro?” My brother Bran laughs out. “Oops. Too soon?”

Clementine reaches over and backhands him across the chest. “Don’t make those types of jokes when you know as well as I that-'' She interrupts herself and turns her attention back on me. “Not that I think- I mean it’s a possibility, but I- It’s just that-” She stumbles and her face flushes slightly.

“What Clem means to say.” Bean cuts in before Clementine can make more of a mess.

“Is that you are going to be fine.” Brie finishes for him and I shiver slightly. I will never get over whatever type of weird twin telepathy thing they share. It gives me the heebie jeebies.

“They’re right you know.” Bran tells me assuredly. “Creole is one of the medics on duty and you know how good he is with healing spells. The spoiled prince fancy pants is probably already up and about.”

“He is, and I suggest that you retract your previous slander about me, unless you’d like to be punished alongside this miscreant.” A sharp posh voice cuts in and the whole room falls still.

My siblings are on their knees in an instant, words tumbling from Bran's lips before he even hits the ground. “Y-your highness. Please I beg of you, forgive me for my uncouth remarks, I am but a humble servant, unworthy of your very presence.”

“Much better, but if that is true, then I suppose you won’t mind carrying out any punishment I give you?” The prince continues in a cold tone.

“No, your majesty. I will accept any punishment you deem appropriate.” Bran yelps out and I almost feel bad for him. Almost.

“Even if I ask you to kill the prisoner?” The prince asks coolly and everyone in the room flinches at his words, all except Bran who looks like he is about to have a heart attack. “Stable duty, one month. You will be in charge of taking care of my horses.” The prince says at last and Bran glances up in surprise before looking back at the ground.

“Thank you my lord. I’ll get to it right away.” Bran answers quickly and stands to leave.

“Good lad.” The prince says as my brother rushes off. “Now to deal with you.” He says turning his hard eyes on me. “What have you to say for yourself?”

The room fills with silence after the prince speaks and I glance over at Clementine for help, but she is not looking at me. Her eyes are firmly on the floor and I silently curse my siblings fear of the royal family.

“Well? Your prince is asking you a question, speak up.” Still I say nothing and instead lift my head to meet the prince's eyes. “Why don’t you speak?” The prince demands and when I don’t answer for what seems like the hundredth time he grows angry. “I order you to speak peasant, so speak.” He yells,

“He can’t. He’s mute.” Brie says at last and my heart sores for her. Thank the Gods for the vanity of youth.

“Had his tongue removed did he?” The prince asks and this time it is Bean who answers.

“No.”

“Ah, complication from birth.” The prince guesses and Bean shakes his head.

“No. He doesn’t speak because, well, he doesn't. No one really gets it either.” Brie answers him and I swear I have never been so thankful for my little siblings. The little boy and girl duo of trouble, now come to my rescue.

“Are you trying to tell me that he doesn’t speak by choice?” The prince asks and all three of my siblings nod their heads. “You choose not to speak?” The Prince asks me and I shrug my shoulders, doing my best to send the message more or less. It’s not the complete truth, but whatever. Everyone has their little secrets.

“Interesting.” The prince says slowly and suddenly I get a bad feeling about this. “You really don’t talk?” He asks again and I nod my head in affirmation. “Free him and bring him to me.” The prince says with a little wave of his hands and the guards snap into motion.

The guards thrust open the heavy bars and practically carry me out of the small cell. When we reach the prince they drop me and one guard reaches for my hands, still tied behind my back. He hesitates for only a moment before he cuts the ropes in half.

“Very good, now leave us.” The prince orders dismissively. Everyone looks uncertain as they stand, feet dragging as they head for the door, but I send them an encouraging smile that seems to help them make up their minds. 

The guards, however, make no move to leave, not even when the prince’s eyes settle on them in a icy glare. “You as well.” He says and the guards shift uncomfortably on their feet.

“Your majesty I do not think that's very- '' One guard begins, but the prince cuts him off sharply.

“Now!” He orders and the guards turn to leave. “Close the door behind you.”

“But your grace-” The other guard says before falling silent. “Of course your majesty.” He finishes and steps through the doorway, shutting the door behind him.”

“Good.” The prince says as he turns his attention away from the door and directs it back on me. “Now that we’re alone, how about you and I make a little deal?”