Silas twisted his body to the side in a split second, causing the knife to plunge into his right shoulder instead. Silas grimaced, howling in pain as he pushed Tristan backward. Tristan lost his footing and fell to the bottom of the steps leading up to the throne. Silas then ripped the dagger from his right shoulder and threw it at Tristan's right leg, causing him to cry in pain.

"You feel that, my beloved little brother—it hurts, doesn't it? Now you understand the pain I'm feeling that my own brother would try and kill me? You didn't think that would actually work, did you? A frontal attack will never work unless it's done in secret. Unlike you, brother, I don't say my plans out loud," Silas scoffed as he slowly descended the throne steps toward Tristan before towering over his younger brother.

"What are you plotting to do now? Are you really going to go through with disposing of me now that I've betrayed you!" Tristan screamed.

Silas kicked Tristan swiftly in the gut, knocking him flat on the ground. Silas drew a dagger from his pocket and held it close to Tristan's throat.

Silas's labored breaths interrupted the dead silence consuming the room. Silas glared at his brother with fierce eyes. A twisted grin formed on his lips as he opened his mouth wide, letting a burst of crazed-filled laughter escape his lips.

Silas stared fixedly at Tristan with piercing eyes as he began to speak in a tone filled with contempt, "My dear little so-called brother, I really didn't think you had it in you. I can't believe that you actually tried to kill me just now, your own brother."

Silas's chest heaved in and out, seething from fury. He clenched his teeth, slapped Tristan harshly across the face, and glared down at him. "Did you really think it would be easy to take me down? Easy to take down like our father? Don't make me laugh. Dear little brother, you're the last person I thought would betray me. You'll pay for your insolence! It seems like you've forgotten where you and I stand. Let me remind you."

At that moment, guards stormed into the room, with one of them exclaiming, "What's all this commotion about?!"

Silas then rose from where he was crouched down and let the dagger he held to Tristan's throat slip from his hand and clatter to the ground. "Guards, lock the prince in the dungeon for treason and get him out of my sight. He needs some time to think about what he's done," Silas coldly replied as he waved his hand dismissively.

Tristan tried desperately to escape the guards' grip to no avail, who quickly apprehended him. Tristan was shaking with emotion as he spat, "Mark my words, Silas, you're going to wish you would have killed me because I'll never stop, no matter how many chains or shackles you use to restrain me!"

"From this day forth, as soon as I open my eyes at the crack of dawn and until I close them in the dead of night, all that I'll think about is all of the different ways I can try and break free and take you down. When I do, I'll pry that throne from your very hands. I refuse to sit idly by and watch you destroy everything before my eyes!" Tristan screamed.

Silas let out a sigh and shook his head. "As stubborn as ever now, aren't we? Quit being so overdramatic. Consider yourself lucky, little brother, for me deciding to spare your life since I'm feeling quite merciful today."

"Maybe you'll change your mind after you've had plenty of time to think. If only you had seen things my way. Also, besides little brother, your so-called plan so far got you locked up; I wonder what would happen if you went further with it." Silas said with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Tristan's eyes flashed with fury over Silas's response as he spat, "That's where you're wrong, Silas; I'll never change! I'm nothing like you; I'll never see things your way! No matter how long you lock me up, I will stop at nothing to put an end to your reign, no matter the cost!"

Silas sneered, "Hah, good one, little brother, you're the one to talk! I'd like to see you try; I don't think you're exactly in the best position to try and threaten me anytime soon."

"As far as I can see, what can you possibly do to me when you're confined, shackled, and chained up in the castle's dungeon cell? I should have locked you up sooner. I can't have you getting in my way and messing things up now, can I?" Silas said.

Without blinking, Silas watched Tristan get taken away with icy and detached eyes. "Oh, and one more thing before you go. I can't leave you completely in the dark now, can I? So, I'll let you in on a little secret. Don't worry, your little head; you'll have the best seat in the house for what I plan to do next."

"No, you can't be serious! Silas, I know what you're up to; don't you dare do it! Stop this madness!" Guards, unhand me this instant; don't listen to all the lies he's filled your head with. You have no idea what you're sentencing us all to by taking his side over mine! He's going to bring us all to ruin!" Tristan shouted out frantically.

Tristan's eyes widened in desperation as he tried once again to struggle and break free of the guards' clutches. Tristan's voice became more distant as the guards continued to drag him further and further away to the castle's dungeon.

Poor little brother, you seem to be mistaken. The guards stationed in this castle agree with every word that leaves my mouth, but you've always been naive, haven't you? A splitting image of father, so you know how your story will end if you keep it up, don't you? Silas thought to himself once the guards had left the room with a flailing Tristan.

It wasn't long before the corners of Silas's lips curved upwards into a wicked grin, "It seems the main show is getting ready to start; I hope you'll enjoy it, dear little brother."

Once the sound of his brother's screaming died out, Silas extended his left hand before reaching up and placing it on his right shoulder. He gritted his teeth as a pained hiss escaped his lips. Even before pulling his hand away completely from the stab wound, he felt his own warm blood coat his hand like honey on bread.

Silas looked down at his hand, now stained with maroon that stood out against his pale skin. After looking at his hand for a couple more seconds, an amused chuckle escaped his lips as the right side of his lip curled up to form a sideways grin.

I should praise you, Tristan; you got me better than I thought, Silas thought.

The loud creek from the large doors leading to the throne room drew Silas's attention away from his hand, stained with blood. Silas stared with emotionless blue eyes as his two elite soldiers hurriedly rushed to his side to see what the commotion had been about since they had witnessed Tristan get dragged away toward the dungeon by various guards.

"My lord, what happened to you? Your shoulder is bleeding profusely!"

The man said, who was better known as Marcus, whose wavy raven hair fell softly onto his broad shoulders that extended downward to his collarbone.

Without wasting a second, Marcus moved closer to Silas to start inspecting just how bad the inflicted injury was. Upon closer expectation, Marcus's hazel eyes flashed with genuine concern as the blood seeping from the deep stab wound in Silas's shoulder started to stain his royal blue silk robe rather quickly like a raging river.

"My lord, who did this to you? I highly recommend you see a physician—" Marcus started before Silas waved his hand dismissively.

'I don't need to see a physician. After all, it's only a flesh wound, and as if an injury like this would hold me down. As for who did it, my little brother was throwing a tantrum, so I dealt with that," Silas said nonchalantly as he tilted his head back to look over at Marcus, whose face started to distort in anger.

"That!..." Marcus breathed out with a heavy breath. As anger started to well up inside him, a single thought ran through his mind: How dare someone stupidly harm their lord without facing severe consequences?

It wasn't long before Marcus spat out, "That insolent, ungrateful brat! I told you this would happen if you continued to spoil him. You've always been and continue to be way too lenient on him.

"He's unworthy of being your brother. Just say the word, my lord, and I will punish him for you this instant for the injury he inflicted upon you," Marcus angrily snapped while reaching for one of the daggers on his belt, showing that he meant every word he had said.