“I’m terrified.” Even with precision and repeating of years of experience, his voice quaked with solid shoving and he practically fell into my arms.

“Elder Brother?”

“Please, just for tonight, call me Rahnier.” His plea unlike every occasion where he would ask, resounding around and threatening to crack if even the slightest touch it would bear. Calling him by his name this time, brought a sigh. A sigh of one being freed. “It’s…I don’t think I’m ready for this, I don’t think I’m fit to be king.” His arms snaked around my back, burying his face into my neck as his breathing grew unsteady.

“How so? Didn’t we spent the last 3 years training and studying?”

“Even so…”

“Rahnier, you’re forgetting something. You are not alone.” Pulling him closer and smoothing down his silky locks dyed in golden sands, I continued. “Don’t think I only spent the last 3 years swinging a stick in our veranda.”

“Won’t you have time for yourself? Governing a country isn’t easy, Vivi.”

“You and I are of royal blood; this is what we are supposed to do. For the sake of our motherland. And besides…”

Rahnier pulled away from the warmth, the space once eaten now being invaded by tonight’s icy murmurs swaying our hair along with its sauntering.

“I need to find someone worthy of you.”

“I—Shouldn’t it be the opposite?!”

“Ahahaha, no.”

Rahnier’s shoulder once again slumped, ocular twitching as I laughed at his face. “Well, I wouldn’t object if you chose Louvel as Prince Consort.” He chortled, “He does have some nobility in him, he’s from the Alard family, yes?”

“Weren’t you glaring at him before?”

“Oh, so you do want him!”

“No, I don’t!”

“Your rosy cheeks say otherwise!”

“Rahnier!”

Meeting gazes for a split second, we both bursted into fits of laughs unbecoming of the Crown Prince and First Princess, holding unto one another as our shoes struggled to keep us upright and tall.

“We ought to do this more often.” He sighed, laughter dying to chuckle as he rested his hands on my shoulder. “I don’t remember the last time since I raced you on a horse.”

“Don’t bother, you always lose anyway.” Sticking a tongue on his faux offended expression, clutching his heart as he stumbled backwards and sang “How thee wounds mine heart!”

“Alright, alright, we should head back. There will be no coronation if the Crown Prince is still in his backyard dancing.” Spinning towards the glass door sectioned with oak wood, customary flaring painstakingly trimmed blades of green now washed with ultramarine pleasant on the ears I strode back, knowing my dear brother would follow in my tracks.

“As you—ugh…”

A jolt, kicks in succession like insect wings clattering together as blood drained from my fingertips, icy tears made their excursion downwards as horns all in different towns yet uniform in their volume and incessant pleadings to sprint out of here and never—

“Vivienne…get away.”

“Rahnier?!”

This…This isn’t right.

No

No

No

NO

Someone wake me up!

Get me out here!

NOT AGAIN