Broken Crowns and Burning Wings

Hazel eyes that have the warmth of a peaceful dawn in them.

Blonde hair that melts like butter falls down her back. 

Perfectly fair skin, as though she was lovingly painted by the God himself.

A lovely smile, the type that might warm the iciest heart.

A long, gorgeous yellow gown, shining like starlight, as if the heavens themselves dressed her for tonight.

Lovely and lucky. 

The golden child of this kingdom.

She is described by all of these. Madeline, the picture-perfect girl who looks like she just stepped out of a fairytale.

The compassionate girl who goes above and beyond to ensure the happiness of everyone around her, who helps everyone, and who loves without prejudice. She is the one that always has a smile on her face and tries her hardest to fit in and become exactly what they want her to be.

She's the girl everyone has faith in because she's never once let them down.

Never disobeyed.

Never questioned.

Never stepped out of line.

Madeline. The one who always says the right thing, does the right thing, and makes the right choices. The one they look at with pride and certainty, because she listens. The perfect daughter. The perfect reflection of their expectations.

And somehow, that makes her both untouchable and completely trapped. 

But why should I give a damn? For she wouldn't have been the only source of my suffering if she was indeed the saint that everyone says she is, would she?

"Must be nice, being everyone's perfect little angel, huh?" I sip my wine, staring at her, the glass cold against my lips. Nothing helps right now. Not the thumping pain in my head, not the over-the-top banquet, and certainly not her. 

I feel as like I'm standing on the edge of everything, witnessing a world that has nothing to do with me, even though the music continues to play. 

"Everyone! Now the King Richard Yivannov and the Second Prince Anton Yivannov of Arvenia are coming. Please take your places."

The wide room is commanded by the presence of two powerful individuals as we all turn to face the grand staircase. Their attire is as grand as the occasion, but it is the long, flowing red cape of one that leaves no doubt about his identity.

He has a really attractive face that may arouse praise even at this age, but no amount of charm could ever cover up the rot that lies beneath.

Beside him walks another man, eerily similar in appearance. They share the same golden eyes, sharp and piercing, and the same silver-gray hair that glints like frost under the light.

But other than that, I don't know what else I could say.

Maybe because we were never connected in any way that mattered. We share blood, but that's where the similarity ends. Nothing ties us together, either emotionally or mentally. It's just the accident of birth.

We've never been siblings in anything other than name and lineage.

The king takes his seat upon the throne. Beside him stands Anton. Not a single movement, not a twitch of his fingers. The perfect image of obedience, of a loyal servant. Not a flicker of emotion crosses his face. 

But where are the other two? Viktor and Cedric.

Possibly they are simply running late due to a timing error. Or maybe—it's planned. They couldn't possibly fail to show up, especially when the King himself has ordered everyone to be here.

I look around. It appears to be noticed by everyone, just like myself. Naturally, they would. The princes are always together. It raises a fair amount of eyebrows, especially because the Crown Prince isn't present.

Could it be because....

"The Crown Prince isn't here... huh, I knew it."

"Of course he wouldn't show. He wasn't the one to win the war, after all. Duke Raven swooped in at the last moment and took the glory."

"Yeah, maybe that's why he didn't show. His ego's too big for that. I mean, it's his crown that was supposed to shine."

"Exactly. And that's why the Duke did it. He knew it'd get under his skin. The King doesn't even acknowledge the Prince properly, so why should anyone else?"

"Smart move, really."

Oh.

Apparently, everyone has the same opinion. Just enough to reveal the satisfaction, a tiny smirk tugs at my lips. 

I guess I'm not the only one who's been watching him.

It feels good to know that his ego has finally been crushed by someone other than the king. Although it might hurt a little bit here and there, it's hardly the worst thing that could happen to him.

The King addresses the assembled guests with a sharp, powerful voice that pierces the room. "Let the celebrations begin. Let no one forget that it is through loyalty and strength that this kingdom endures." 

Loyalty to a man who can kill his own flesh and blood for power? Loyalty to a kingdom built on manipulation and lies?

"Tonight, we honor the one who secured our kingdom's future. Duke Raven."

The idea that this is really a political ploy to appease the audience and hide the conflict between the throne and the man who has come to represent authority in his own right is something I can't get rid of.

The Duke rarely makes an appearance. His emergence into the spotlight is uncommon, if not unheard of. He is a man who runs in secret, using his power to build a maze that no one can follow. Just as he decides to vanish, he also decides to come back, leaving no evidence of his whereabouts or actions.

Not everyone gets to see him, and most people aren't even aware of his true physical appearance. Including me, in fact. 

And now, here he is, being summoned by a king who resents him and many people who fear him, for reasons that go far deeper than the battlefields he's won.

Everyone is leaning into their neighbor and speaking quickly and quietly as the room grows noisy with faint murmuring.

"Do you think he'll actually come?" 

"I've heard he never does unless it's absolutely necessary." 

"Necessary? This is politics. The King's parading him around like a trophy." 

"Well, can you blame him? The Duke saved all our hides. Again." 

"Doesn't mean he likes it. You know the King can't stand him." 

"Shh, don't let anyone hear you say that." 

"Honestly, he scares me. Have you heard the stories? They say he doesn't even sleep, just... watches." 

"That's nonsense. But I wouldn't cross him, that's for sure." 

"Where does he even go? No one ever sees him between wars." 

"Wherever he goes, people die. That's all I know." 

"Do you think he's as terrifying as they say?" 

"No. Worse."

As I watch the grand door and wait for him to enter, I take another gulp of my wine, feeling the harsh liquid go down my throat. Something about this moment makes my chest feel oddly pulled.

A part of me wants to see him tonight despite all the fear and hate that surround him. I'm interested after all these years of hearing the rumors and stories of his vicious efficiency with the evil force that wraps him.

What's the truth behind the monster they all speak of? I have no idea what to look forward to.

Will his appearance match what he is known for? Ugly.

Or does he actually resemble a monster, a so-called creature of the dark?