Chapter 119

“Don’t speak that way about him! Father... he has done a lot for me,” Augustus acknowledges. I can see a genuine love for the emperor in his eyes and it makes me sick with envy.

In my past life, I never had a father and in this one, the one I got only gives a damn about my brother, not me. I’m pretty sure that’s the origin story for half of the Marvel villains.

I nod, pretending not to be bitter. “It is good you know. But even with everything Father has done for you, it would not be enough for you to sit comfortably on the throne. You would still have to fight for it and you would lose.”

My message sets a somber tone and we both stew in silence for a bit.

“What makes you think I would benefit from your partnership?” He’s got a tricky look in his gold eyes, like he can’t wait for me to stumble and mess up. But little does he know that he’s just stumbled into the crux of my plan.

I smile inwardly as the fish takes the bait. “You saw how easy it was for me in the tent to potentially destroy your reputation and leave a knife your enemies could use to carve away at your claim to the throne. You’ve also learned the same history as I, how many crown princes appointed by their fathers made it to the throne? Even Father’s older brother couldn’t make it, but I’d bet good money he was just like you, innocently believing the throne would fall into his hands without consequence.”

Augustus grimaces a little. Father’s past is a hush-hush topic, an open secret no one speaks of. No one has forgotten the former Crown Prince Wilhelm, a dashing lad who’d captured the hearts of maidens across the empire. However, good looks and a little charm could not stand in the way of a bastard prince with a hunger that couldn’t be satiated. I do not see that hunger in Augustus’ eyes, that greed to succeed no matter what. But I’ve seen it in mine when I look in the mirror.

.....

“I will make you a god,” I promise Augustus, my honeyed words carrying heavy truth behind them. The words come out barely above a whisper, but I gain confidence with each one uttered. “One popular enough to lure in the families that are on the fence about supporting you. One who can tempt powerful families to vie their precious daughters for your affections. One whom all the Houses and all the people will be willing to bow down to when it comes time.”

“The people love me already,” Augustus insisted, fixating on one portion of my words.

“The people had loved Former Crown Prince Wilhelm too. Now they love our father even more fiercely. To the victor goes the spoils.” I douse his faint disagreement quickly.

“And how would you be able to do that?” I don’t blame his skepticism. Despite my previous performance at the military warfront, I am promising a lot for such a young child.

“I know I am but a child now, but mixing with other noble daughters, the future wives of your subjects, is very useful. I am the promised child, brother, many approach me with wishes to create a friendship with me. I am also connected to the Holy Church, opening a new branch of allies to you and potentially swaying the Duvernay family’s grasp on the Holy Church faction. And I can protect you from the schemes of women you are obviously unaware of.”

Augustus snorted. “Noble girls are taught from a young age not to engage in such behavior.”

This time I do laugh aloud. “And you believe it? Noble lads are taught not to gamble or sleep with prostitutes, but do many not wander through the streets of Radovalsk in early dawn stinking of wine and perfume?”

“Speak properly, you are a princess,” he says. I ignore him, of course.

My older brother has the good sense to look a little embarrassed by his rhetoric, but I’m not quite finished.

“What will you do if tomorrow at a ball a woman locks herself in a room with you, disrobes, and claims you had relations so she can marry you? What if a Duvernay girl claims to have exchanged letters with you, allowing the Duvernay family to pressure Father into forcing you to marry her? You’ve signed many edicts and forms, your enemies naturally already have an example of your handwriting to copy.”

Augustus is not entirely stupid, even he must realize that marrying a daughter from that family would be bad news for him.

“And don’t tell me you still believe Father married Mother out of love? He was obviously forced into it somehow. He detests her,” I add. I think of that woman’s cold face, unique in its ability not to display emotion. Katya never would have settled on wedding some nobleman when she could get an emperor.

“Mother?” Augustus inquires, confused by my wording. I pause, reeling as I stumble out of the roll I’ve been on. A name I’ve only called the empress to her face, why would it slip out of my mouth so naturally just now.

“Did I call her that just now?” The Katya in my head smiles at me, patting my head as a servant spreads medicine over the well scarred back of my shin.

“Uh, yes?” Augustus scratches his head, caught in a lurch as my thoughts derail. I already have a mother, one I will always love very much even if I never get the chance to see her again. Anointing Katya as one, even by accident, makes me want to throw up.

“Ignore that. It was a mistake,” I tell my older brother woodenly, my lips pressed in a thin line.

But Augustus was nonplussed by the mistake. It’s obvious he doesn’t take the empress as his own mother, but the crown prince clearly looks upon her like a chill aunt or casual female relative.

There’s a certain measure of indifference, but it definitely isn’t the hatred or cautiousness that would be infinitely more useless in preserving his life and claim to the throne.

“You are inviting dissent between Julian and I,” Augustus accuses without any conviction in his voice.

“What relationship do you have for me to sow dissent within? Besides, a son’s allegiance lies would most likely lie with his mother if his father has little presence in his life. Have you seen Julian get the same love and affection from Father that you’ve been lavished with your entire life?” Have you seen me receive that same love and affection? I keep my last thought to myself.

The two brothers have always treated one another like estranged neighbors at best. Julian’s treatment from the emperor is more reminiscent of the treatment a bastard son would receive. I’d wager if it wasn’t a middle-aged adult within Julian’s flesh who’d long become accustomed to not having parents, Julian would be a far more bitter prince.

“Why should I trust you?” Augustus eventually asks.

“Because I want to live,” I tell him honestly. “And I wish to live very well.”

“Is that all you get out of this?” The skepticism is thick in Augustus’ voice.

“Of course not. It seems I may need your help for my future marriage. Make sure I’m not shipped to a neighboring kingdom to wed someone. And for after you take the throne, if I’m married someone I don’t like within the Empire, use your imperial command to divorce us immediately.”

Augustus looked uncomfortable speaking of marriage. It makes sense as most teenagers aren’t interested in such matters at this stage in their life. I was but five years older, and clearly I didn’t have the ability to choose a decent life partner for myself. But now that I think about it is very curious how he and Clara become romantically involved when he’s 24 years old to her 16 or 17.

9-1-1 what’s your emergency?

I flash Augustus a look of severe disgust, one that he takes poorly.

“What?” he exclaims warily, taking a step back for good measure. “You’re not plotting anything against me again, are you?”

“Look for love with someone your own age, don’t go poaching young girls’ who’ve just debuted!” I rebuke, wagging a disapproving finger in Augustus’ direction.

“I haven’t even debuted into society, why would I do that?” my brother sputters indignantly. “Why do you look at me like I’m a lecher of some sort? On my honor, I am not the kind of man to engage in inappropriate relations!”

Augustus pounded at his chest twice, the ancient symbol of a man’s honor in the Erudian Empire. Typically performed before a duel to the death or when a soldier is about to embark into battle, it is a sign of utmost sincerity. I realize that I may have been a bit hasty in warning Augustus of this so many years in advance.

“Indeed, I was presumptuous. Forgive me,” I say grudgingly.

Augustus just sniffs indignantly, but he looks faintly pleased as he crosses his arms. It feels quite nice having a sibling who’s a great deal easier to read than Julian.

“I... could consider this deal.

I gasp, my exhilaration causing a surprised grin to bloom.

“I don’t know if what you promise is true, but you are my sister. I will try to have faith in you.”

“Where was that faith in your tent?” I mutter under my breath.

It feels like rubbing at a scab, reminiscing on the dangerous days that still send me hurtling out of my bed covered in sweat during the night. Even when Marie slips in without a word and a cup of chamomile in hand, I still lay awake until light peeks through my bedroom curtains.

If I weren’t so young, I’d certainly have undereye bags that would put Prada and Hermes to shame.

Like watercolor across a canvas, a faint red color spreads out across Augustus’ cheeks. However, he doesn’t address the sensitive subject I’ve brought up, switching to another perhaps more intriguing one. “To honor our partnership, I shall tell you something you perhaps did not know.”

“Something I don’t know?” I repeat curiously. “Help me up first.”

Warm hands grab mine and yank me into a standing position rather easily, causing me to land awkwardly on my injured foot.

“Ah! Careful, careful!”

He whistles as he looks down at my foot, now hidden under my skirts.

“Father always told me to beware of those undaunted by the cost of what it takes to get what they want,” Augustus says, referring to how I sacrificed my ankle to forge a partnership with him.

But he’s not really talking to me, instead reminiscing on one of the many life lessons Father must have imparted upon him throughout the years. I’ve learned a great deal courtesy of Father as well. But rather than useful anecdotes, they came in the form of painful experiences.

“I suppose it’s a good thing then that we both want the same thing: For you to end up comfortably upon the throne. Now, what is it that I don’t know?” I add, not forgetting what he had promised me.

“A village near the base of the D’Anjou Mountains perished rather mysteriously two weeks ago. I saw the reports of it on Father’s desk last night,” Augustus tells me with a heavy sigh.

I want to question why he told me this until a flash of realizations sends goosebumps rippling across my skin. Marie. The D’Anjou Mountains.

When I look Augustus in the eye, I get the sickening confirmation from his grave look. All of a sudden, Augustus seems several years older than he actually is, his lips pressed in a thin line.

My heart drops for Marie. I don’t ask if my brother if there are any survivors, something in the desolate stare that has overtaken his face tells me that there aren’t. It’s eerie to see such emotion on a face that resembles the emperor’s so much. Humanity and empathy, whether by force or by choice, were stripped from my father long ago.

It’s in that moment of learning such awful news that I find a morsel of respect for Augustus. He’s naive as well as young and I don’t think I will ever get over the insurmountable differences between us. But, damn. I do have to give it to Peppermint this one time for their choice of the male lead. He has the makings of a good team leader within him. He hasn’t inherited any of our father’s darkness either, only

And he has a heart, one that aches in tandem with mine at the senseless death that occurred. It was kind of him, to let me know this kind of information concerning a close person to me. It also tells me that there may yet be some cunning within Augustus, concerning how he knows the background of someone I keep close to me.

“That’s terrible,” I struggle to say, shaking my head at the devastation this news will bring to my nursemaid.

A ball rolls to my foot, pink instead of gold. And with its presence few things occur to me at once before I spin around suddenly:

-In the latest batch of toys I received, yet the latest addition to a pile I have yet to touch, I received a pink ball.

-Marie has always had a knack for quiet steps when she doesn’t wish to disturb me.

The sight behind me is as expected but it still brings heat to my eyes as I struggle to keep my emotions down. Marie’s hand covers her mouth, her entire body trembling as fat tears already roll down her face and drip onto the ground.

“I will leave you two. Good day, Winter,” Augustus says behind me, collecting his men and returning back to his courtyard.

I have no mind to celebrate this much-needed alliance, my arms wrapping around the base of Marie’s skirt as her body continues to tremble and shake like a tree weathering strong winds. A lone hand slightly larger than mine tugs at Marie’s skirt from the side; Emma has appeared out of nowhere to extend her condolences in her own way. Marie is her jolliest when she speaks of her home. The buckweed, the tales, the woods she’d played with her siblings in behind her home.

To lose such a large part of herself is a pain I knew all too well when I woke up here. I cling to her skirts harder as the three of us stand together against the world. Because no matter what, I have promised myself and everyone here that I will make sure we come out of this game in one piece. I will bear any cost I must, short of crossing that line in my heart.

A line that continuously gets pushed further back time and time again.

—–

From a healthy distance away, Julian scratched his head after watching Winter and Augustus interact before she turned to comfort her nursemaid. There was a distance now, between himself and Winter. He knew that because he had put it there himself.

Still, he was surprised by the faint sting he’d felt to see Winter begin to interact with the brother they’d both clowned and cracked jokes about. He didn’t have a right to feel that way. But it made sense from, what he’d gathered of her personality, to do such.

Winter reminded Julian of when he was young in his past life. Before he got married and had children, then got divorced and despised by said children. He’d always been like a dog pursuing a bone when it came to his ultimate goal back then: more money. More wealth. Raising the profile and net worth of the company he’d built himself right out of college with the help of his grandfather’s trust money.

And he’d done it ruthlessly and efficiently, attaining billions and rubbing shoulders with the kind of people most folks would only ever encounter in glossy magazines and TV screens. It had all become stale at the bitter end though. As he’d learned all too late, the costs of his wife, his kids, and his happiness had not been worth the fruit of his labors.

But that night in the dungeon, and what he’d learned then, had changed everything for Julian.

He now had a higher purpose. A greater purpose. And even for a fellow Traveler who like him had lived a previous life, it was not something worth giving up for Winter. Julian let out a long, irritated breath, releasing most but not all of the irritation within him. He turned around and left without a word and without anyone taking notice, every one of his steps decisive as he returned to his quarters.

After all, what greater aim could a man seek than the secret to making time itself everlasting?

.....