"Mira!"

Silas was lying on the floor of the carriage, chest heavy as he tried to take deep breaths, each more painful than the last.

But as much as he was hurting, the feeling did not come close to that of anger. He knew not to expect much from a Royal, but for all his big and pompous talk, the Prince sure was quick to drop the act. Not that it surprised him.

"Where did you go? Cassius was fuming after seeing your carriage leave the Palace."

He heard Lucian let out a small laugh, and he could almost perfectly picture his face in that moment—smug, triumphant. "It seems Cassius is more wise than I give him credit for. He's right to be mad."

"And why would that be the case? Don't tell me..." The woman's voice trailed off, before coming back as a whisper, mischievous and with a hint of sarcasm. "Has my dear brother truly gone and found himself a wife? Oh, how I pity the poor thing."

"Now why would you do that? Any lady would be delighted to have me as her husband."

"I suppose the delusions one's own mind can conjure are truly astounding."

The two Royals grinned at each other, with just a hint of annoyance in Lucian's eyes. He was not the type to let anyone get to him, and most of all, he was not the type to let it show. But not when it came to Mira.

She rested her hand on his shoulder—or rather, she slapped it, causing the older to flinch slightly. "In all seriousness, Lucian, have you really decided to wed? I thought you'd also rather enjoy the race from the sidelines."

Lucian scoffed, crossing his arms. "You know as well as I do that had I not joined, there would not have been any race. But no matter now, because I have already made arrangements."

Mira's eyes widened, her fingers now gripping Lucian's coat and her face inching closer. "You jest! What sort of arrangements? Is she here?"

She let go of her brother, sprinting towards the carriage. Silas could hear her steps coming closer, and a mixture of fear and relief washed over him. Had he been found, his chance at providing for his family would have vanished. But at the same time, he knew that this might have been his very last chance at escaping.

His eyes shut tight, heart pounding in his ears. But the loud clicking sound of the carriage door never came. Instead, all he could see as he looked up toward the window was the back of Lucian's head.

"Patience, sister. The lady is not here—I’ve merely set the pieces in motion. You’ll meet her soon enough."

Mira raised her eyebrows, taking a step back, before sending a quick glance in the direction of the coach. Then, she smirked.

"You’re keeping something from me, are you not?"

"I am not." Lucian swallowed.

"You are!" Mira let out a chuckle as soon as her brother began visibly tensing up. "You truly think you can fool me after twenty-six years together?"

"That is not—"

"My lady," Riven’s voice suddenly interrupted them, coming to the Prince’s rescue. "I believe your lady-in-waiting is expecting you soon for your daily lessons, is she not?" He smiled at her, bowing slightly, and in the corner of his eye he could see Lucian exhale in relief.

"Indeed, Riven. Thank you for reminding me." She cocked her head, studying the both of them carefully, pondering on whether to press the matter further. Riven was clearly flushed, possibly even more than usual, and Lucian had started staring at a patch of grass just by his side, in an attempt at escaping her gaze.

In the end, she sighed - mildly disappointed by their horrific ability to conceal a secret, but accepting defeat. "I shall see you later, then."

As her steps began moving in the opposite direction, she stopped briefly by her brother's side, and for the first time, Silas caught a glimpse of her hair. Wavy and jet black, just like Lucian's.

Her voice was low, but Silas could tell she was talking loud enough for anyone standing close by to hear. Or in his case, lying down.

"I trust in you, Lucian. I know you would not have fought for the Crown unless you had a good reason. I do hope you will confide in me once you are ready." Her attention fell on the carriage window, her eyes turning into crescent moons once she saw a handful of hair poking from the bottom. She cleared her throat, amusement dripping from her words. "And to the lady, please bear with my brother. He's terribly infuriating, but do try to refrain from causing him harm."

With that, and a wink to her brother, she left - her dress shimmering in the evening light.

As soon as her figure had disappeared behind the Palace's walls, Lucian rushed to the coach, opening it only to reveal Silas staring at the ceiling, sweat dripping down his forehead and blood seeping through his shirt.

"Are you hurt?" He bent down, offering him his hand, which the boy swatted away.

With a painful grunt, Silas stood up, slowly lowering himself to the ground while clutching his chest.

Lucian's arm hovered in the air for just a second before dropping to his waist. "I did not realize my sister would be waiting for my return. It was not my intention to—"

"Save it. I am fine."

Riven approached from behind, carefully touching Silas' back and examining him. "His wounds need to be bandaged, my Prince."

"I am aware. Gather his belongings; let us head inside first."

As they began heading to the entrance, Lucian could see Silas limping, now more pronounced than back at his home. It was clear that his sudden fall after being pushed had only worsened his injuries. The Prince's brows furrowed, his lips turning into a fine line.

He stepped forward, offering Silas help once again. "Lean on me."

"I already told you I am fine. I can walk by myself."

This time, Lucian simply rolled his eyes, the stubbornness of the boy appearing almost ridiculous when compared to his clear suffering. He grabbed his arm and forcefully crossed it with his own, holding him up.

"You can, but you are slowing us down. We wouldn't want to risk being seen, now would we?"

Silas glared at him, reluctantly accepting his offer, and letting some of his weight rest against the Prince's body.

"See, it was not so difficult. Now be a good boy and follow my lead."

Once Silas stepped into the Palace, it instantly became clear to him just how different the life Lucian had led up to that moment could have been compared to his.

Everything screamed opulence—from the stone walls with intricate designs, to the beautiful iron sculptures and the candles they held hanging from the ceilings, illuminating the corridors with a warm light. Every now and then, they would pass an empty suit of armor propped up against the big columns holding the entire building, each with a different weapon held tight in front of it. Even the doors they encountered on their way looked luxurious, made from dark wood and as tall as two—maybe three—men. They were all adorned with the Royal Family's crest, and at either side there were pots with freshly cut flowers, their scent delicate and elegant.

He felt small, smaller than he ever had, his mind unable to imagine growing up in such wealth.

As they walked, Riven and Lucian kept discussing in hushed voices, and once Silas' attention had returned after admiring his surroundings, he was able to catch a glimpse of it.

"Shall I call for the doctor, my Prince?"

"Of course not, he’d report to my Father right away. Just go and fetch me some bandages and a bit of salve. I will tend his injuries personally."

"Are you positive, Your Highness? They do seem quite severe."

Lucian gestured for Riven to stop, waving his hand in the air. "I am. After you have found them, please bring everything to my room."

With a nod, Riven disappeared behind one of the columns, leaving the two of them alone. Neither of them spoke, the only sound in the halls being that of their steps.

Soon, they reached the end of a hallway, and stopped in front of a golden-colored door.

"These are my chambers. Starting today, you will also sleep here."

"What? We are to sleep in the same room?"

"Oh, perhaps it would be better for you to sleep in one of the maids' rooms? I am sure they would love a new face in their midst. Possibly almost as much as they would love informing everyone in the Palace of it!" Lucian stared at Silas with raised eyebrows, and a dramatically huge smile.

"No need to mock me, I understand."

"Good. So, now that this matter has been sorted, let us treat your wounds."

The Prince opened the doors, revealing a space as big as Silas' entire home.

In the middle of it was a bed big enough to fit a family, with red silk sheets draped over it. In the corners, he could see a few couches with velvet cushions, and opposide one of them was a wooden table full of papers and dying candles.

Everything felt darker compared to the rest of the Palace, more intimate, more lived-in. 

Lucian guided Silas to the bed, dropping him on top of it and causing him to land with a soft thud, the mattress dancing all around him.

"Sit. Or lie down. Whichever hurts less."

Silas stayed seated, still eyeing the room warily.

"Are you truly certain that you know how to tend injuries? I cannot imagine you have ever needed to."

Lucian turned his back to him, beginning to remove his coat and roll up his sleeves, before pushing some hair away from his face.

A knock came from the door, and the both of them knew at once what it meant: Riven had gathered all the necessary items.

"Well, I guess you better start hoping I have."

And with that, he faced him, a grin spread all over his face as he inched closer and closer to the boy.

"But I suppose we'll find out soon enough, won't we?"