I sat on my balcony overlooking the garden, holding a wine glass with a nearly empty bottle on the table. My mind was taking its time to clear. Lord Langston had put a sour taste in my mouth that not even alcohol could wash away. He treated me like some prize he was bartering my father to obtain. I was stupid for even wanting to attend the Annual Banquet. I wasn’t planning on pressing my father to attend next year's event. I’d rather stay home.

“Alric!”

I jumped when my bedroom door hit the wall. 

“You insolent, boy.”

“Father, I—” I stood and felt the sting of his hand.

I looked at him in shock while clasping my cheek.

“This is what you’re doing? Drinking. I told you to stay with the prince. Come to find out, you’ve abandoned the one duty assigned to you, and you're hiding in your room. All this talk about wanting to be treated as an adult, as my heir, and this is how you’re going to prove to me you're ready. You’re not.” He turned to leave. “You’re not going to the Grand Banquet. You don’t deserve to sit among kings.”

The door slammed again, and I sank into my seat. My cup had tipped over at some point. I searched for something to clean it up with, and in my frantic state, I decided to use my sleeve. My face was still on fire, and I could feel where the back of his ring had hit my cheekbone. 

“Shit.” I fell over my knees and clasped my forehead. 

I couldn’t win. Nothing I did was right. Was I meant to endure the taunting and lower myself to the level of the dirt mortals walked on? Rising to my feet, I went to the ivy ladder and went up instead of down to the garden. I climbed onto the roof and went to the usual outcropping. 

I hated it here. I lived in a palace. I was given more than any person in the kingdom, but I hated it here, living under the rule of a man who despised my existence. I cleared my eyes and let out a steady breath. 

Everything would be fine. I survived this week, and I’d return to being the shadow on the wall my father was happy to ignore.

***

“Ricky,” called my mother.

I didn’t move from my spot. I didn’t want to go out there again to be ridiculed by everyone.

“Ricky.” Her voice was getting louder. “Ricky,” she called from below. “Ricky, if you’re up there, please come down.”

I shifted my weight.

“Ricky, I will climb up there. I’ve done it before. Though, it may ruin my dress.”

With a sigh, I moved to the edge and sat where she could see me.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

I rested my chin on my knee.

“I heard you had an altercation with your father.”

That was putting it lightly.

“Ricky, come down. I brought you something to eat. You must be starving.” She glanced at the table on the balcony. “You can’t survive on wine.”

Giving in, I climbed down the ladder and hopped over the railing.

My mother gasped. “May the gods have mercy on whoever did this.” She clasped my cheek. “Who hit you?” She took a closer look. “It’s bruised. What happened? Oh, my child.” She cupped my face in her hands. “Tell me who did it. I'll remove any hand that dared to strike you.”

“Father,” I muttered. 

She took a deep breath. “He hit you?”

“His ring.” I touch the tender spot. “It wasn’t hard, but the ring…” I sighed. “He was angry with me for leaving Prince Lenis and his cousin. I’m not attending the king’s banquet anymore. He doesn’t think I’m ready.’

“Fucking excuses,” my mother said under her breath. Her eyes widened. “Oh, no. Your clothes.” She lifted the stained sleeve.

I swallowed hard and motioned to the table. “It spilled. I’m sorry. I ruined all of your hard work.”

“I don’t care,” she stated. “New clothes can be made. It’s the stain on your face that angers me.” She met my gaze. “I warned him never to strike you again.”

“Mother.” I grabbed her wrist. “I don’t want this to cause any more issues. I heal fast. The bruise will be gone by tomorrow. I don’t plan to leave my room. There’s no need—not anymore.”

Nodding, she pursed her lips and took in a deep breath. “I’m not going to force you. I doubt your father would protest if you stayed, so that’s the end of it. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

I followed her inside and watched her dig through my wardrobe. 

“Why do we keep these?” She held up a shirt. “For being so obsessed with appearance, you’d think your father would dress you better.”

“They’re fine, Mother.”

“For a lord or a duke, but not a prince.” She turned to me. “I’m starting to regret raising you here.”

“It’s my home. I spent my whole life here.”

She stopped for a moment. “But you were born in Lumeria, and we never should have left.”

“I was born there because we need to be close to the gods’ temple. I received my mark, and there was no other reason to say. You’re the queen of Thaloria.”

“I’d rather be the princess of Lumeria,” she stated. 

I sat on my bed and rested my head against the bedpost. “Are things better there? You rarely talk about Lumeria.”

“Your father doesn’t like it. We fight enough as it is.” She examined a couple of other options. “But in Lumeria, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

I sucked in my lips. “If—if you want to go home… I’d go with you.”

She slowly turned to me. “Don’t tempt me, Ricky. I want nothing more than to take you away from that man.”

“But he’s my father, so you can’t.”

My mother scoffed. “It’s not him keeping me from leaving. Lumeria is better than here, but it’s not perfect.” She held up a shirt. “This isn’t terrible.”

Smiling, I shook my head and went to retrieve it. I removed my old shirt and put on the other. We sat to eat some of the food my mother had brought. I poured her a glass of wine and filled my own. She leaned back and sipped from her cup. 

“How’s the party?” I ate a small sandwich. 

“Typical,” she breathed. “It’s going as planned, so the king is happy.”

“Is Cena in her element? She was most excited about the Garden Party.”

“I suppose.”

I put down what I was eating and wiped my face. “She’s your daughter.”

“I know. I was there when she was born.”

“Did you ever think that your favoritism toward me might fuel Father’s favoritism toward Cena?”

“I don’t favor you. I stand up for you. Cena has everything she needs and a father who cares. One of my children needs more protection than the other, that is all.”

I shrugged. “It doesn’t come across that way; that’s all I’m saying.”

“I should dote on her more, then?”

“You can do whatever you like. I’m not going to tell you what to do.”

She smiled and turned to the window. “She’s enjoying herself. The mortals need to learn some manners, but overall, she’s doing well.”

“It’s always the mortals and never the fae,” I replied.

“The fae won’t dilute their blood unless they have to. They’ll lose their connection to the earth.”

“It seems the only ones with nothing to lose are the mortals.”

She finished her drink. “You wouldn’t dare marry a mortal.”

“Never.” I grinned at her. “You’d kill her before we could even get married.”

My mother tipped her glass to me. “Exactly.”

The door opened, making me jump. 

My father stood in the hallway. He took a deep breath. “My father and brother have arrived, and they’d like to meet Alric. Come down and greet them.”

I rose to my feet as my father approached. He grabbed my chin and examined the mark on my chin.

“You should stop playing with swords when you still don’t know how to use one.”

I stared at him for a moment. “Yes, your grace.”

He released me and held out his hand to my mother. “Arbela.” 

Tension filled her body as she stood. She took my father’s hand and squeezed his fingers. 

She pressed up against him. “Was it this hand you used to strike my child?”

“Arbela.” He grimaced.

“I told you never to hit him again. One more warning,” she stated. “Next time, I’ll break them.”

“Mother.” I touched her arm. I was caught off guard when I noticed something glistening from her hand.

She released her hold and turned to me. “For now, we’ll go with the sword story.” She looped arms with my father. 

They headed into the hall, with the king flexing his fingers. I turned to the window and noted the sun’s position. I scanned the light and shadows on the floor. It must have been a reflection.

“Alric!”

I jogged from the room and hurried to catch up.