"Just smile and walk along, Palmer," Phoebe chided nicely. "At least it isn't like that one time outside Caeser's."

"God, Caeser's," Palmer exasperated, "I was ready to grab a gun from security patrol and shoot myself with it. Never again will I go near that region of the country."

"Agreed," said Kylie softly. 

"If you think this is bad, wait until they hear about the next War Games," Cecile remarked. "They're gonna be swarming us like moths to a light."

"I swear, I'm never leaving the castle," Palmer mumbled. The limousine doors opened, suited men with sunglasses gesturing for us to exit. 

Nodding, I breached into the sunlight, the heat of it beating on my neck, and the noise of press attacking my eardrums. Cameras flashed so frequently, it was like watching strobe lights at a concert... in broad daylight. 

"LORD IZAAC," a reporter shouted excitedly, "I'M HUGO FROM RoyaltyDaily, COULD YOU SHARE A FEW WORDS ABOUT THE GIFT YOU RECEIVED THE OTHER DAY?"

While I was willing to throw the press a bone, what happened during the ceremony was truly a mystery to me. The voice I heard in my head... I wasn't sure if that was normal. I'd never gotten around to asking my siblings about their ceremomy experiences, but I had a disturbing feeling that there was something off about what happened at Bestowment Hall. 

"No questions, please!" Sieg's guttural voice barked before walking up the steps toward Beaumont Palace's front entrance. 

Despite its majestic name, the term "palace" didn't do it justice in the slightest. It was more of a futuristic twist on massive medieval fortresses and castles, armed with enough defense systems to take down any existing military excluding that of the Joint Union. The square footage of the structure pushed near two and a quarter million, not including the classified expanses buried in the depths or the equally restricted annexes throughout it. Why we needed such an enormous living space, I had no idea...

No, actually I did: it was a show of power. By displaying superiority with a symbol of humanity's most prized creation, its subliminal power made the palace an artifact of subconscious oppression... a tool for obedience. 

And here I was, contrary to my thoughts on the matter, walking up the steps worth enough to feed a whole continent, proceeding as the Fourth Prince ought to do. Upon introspection, I was a reproachable hypocrite. 

Butlers and maids bowed respectfully in our presence as we made our way to the meeting room. Well, "room" was a bit misleading, as it was the size of the average man's house, but that was what we called it. Corridors and hallways were lined with multi-meter long contemporary paintings and architectural pieces strung up with steel threads, complementing the new age furniture that went another day without being used. Mild flavored scents masked our nostrils every step of the way, the environment embodying it as its natural atmosphere. 

The meeting room was on the fourth floor, and by the time we were all lined up behind its double doors, I wanted nothing more than to kick off my boots and take a seat right on the velvet rug. A pair of sword-armed men, resembling olden palace guards, opened the doors with their stiff arms and remained as upright as a two-by-four. We nodded to them as we entered, the doors closing shut when I stepped in last. 

Father's bulky figure cast a dominating shade over the room as he stood by the reinforced window, gazing over the courtyard with a malignance in his posture I couldn't quite read. The sunlight seemed to avoid him, bending around his frame, its enormity only meagerly minimized by his hands resting behind his back. I couldn't figure out how that man and I were related; if Sieg had the body of an ancient Greek hero, Father had the body of a Greek god, particularly Zeus or Heracles. He seemed to have his own gravitational field, both physically and emotionally. 

"You wanted to see us, Father," Sieg stated. 

"Indeed," he grumbled in his throat. Turning to us, he gestured to the couches facing a wall-sized TV. "Sit, my children."