The words "Prince is unblessed, your Majesty" echoed relentlessly in my mind for the past seven days, a haunting reminder of my perceived inadequacy. Caught in a web of powerlessness and societal expectations, I questioned my worth and purpose. Was I truly worthless? Did my life hold any meaning at all? The weight of these thoughts bore down on me since the night of the Omnisen ceremony.

Seeking solace, I retreated to the upper gardens, where the fragrant blooms of the Rose Garden painted a serene backdrop. Amidst the tranquility, the clanging of armor in the castle courtyard shattered my fragile peace.

Peering through the ornate railings, I glimpsed the army gathering—a force my father, the king, would soon lead into battle to defend Kingdom's Jewel, our city at the western frontier.

"Ah, there you are, Amethyst, you cheeky rascal," greeted a voice, pulling me from my contemplation. It belonged to my step-sibling and second eldest brother, Stroud, the kingdom's second prince.

"Your Highness," the garden's servants chimed in unison as Stroud approached, enfolding me in an embrace.

"Amethyst, my little brother, your older sibling embarks on his first true battle. Will you not bid me farewell? It may be our last meeting in such a manner," he said, a hint of melancholy in his tone.

"Are you... are you going with father?" I stammered, my heart sinking.

"Nay, I march ahead with reinforcements. Father requires a leader for the vanguard to Amrah until his arrival with the main force. But enough of that, tell me of your birthday. Did you enjoy the festivities?" Stroud inquired his concern genuine.

"It was... tolerable, big brother. But I... I failed the assessment," I confessed, tears welling in my eyes.

"Fret not, my dear Amethyst. A stumble in one trial does not dictate your destiny. Even my comrade, Mahirir, stumbled, yet now he shines as a beacon of our kingdom. And forgive me for my absence; I was detained at the western border amidst turmoil," Stroud reassured me, his voice warm with affection.

"And now, as I return, duty calls me away once more," he continued, his gaze distant.

"Please return safely, brother," I pleaded, my heart heavy with worry.

"I shall, my precious one," he promised, his words a balm to my troubled soul.

Amongst my seven siblings, Stroud El Evanes, my second eldest brother, stood as my staunchest ally. Despite his mother's disapproval, he never hesitated to show me kindness, a gesture born of either love or defiance against palace politics. Yet, his announcement of leading the vanguard troops left a pang of sadness in my heart.

Descending to the courtyard, I beheld the assembly of soldiers destined for the western front. At its heart stood Stroud's steed, Pirim, bedecked in regal adornments.

Clad in battle gear, Stroud emerged from the encampment, his royal sword gleaming at his side. Beside him stood our father, the king, ready to depart with the main assault team.

"MOVE OUT!" commanded Stroud, his voice ringing with authority as the soldiers surged forward, leaving a billowing cloud of dust in their wake.

Amidst the haze, I strained to catch a final glimpse of my brother, a silent prayer on my lips for his safe return.