Mother asked us to go and get the bishop so he could perform the funeral rights. Fana made his way to the door swiftly but I couldn't help but stare at my father for just a little longer. That blank, grey stare would haunt me for many days to come.

My brother grunted from the doorway and I pulled my leaden legs to attention. They dragged me into the corridor where we began a solemn march to the chapel on the side of the palace. I looked up at one point and there was Fana, his chin was raised haughtily and he was trying to force tears into his eyes. I stopped, staring at him, disgusted.

"Show some God damned remorse will you? Father's soul is barely over our heads, but it's good to know you're over it so quickly." I spat as we turned a corner.

Afanasy stopped then, and turned to me slowly. "Are you kidding me?"

"Oh please, your crocodile tears? I know you're only crying in fear that that little document selling my future might get lost."

"The fuck Ganechka?" He spluttered. "I thought you wanted to abdicate! Why else did you sign it?"

"To preserve a dying man's hope." I growled. "How long did it take you to brainwash him into making me do that, hm? How long were you just waiting for father to die?"

"Rili you know I would never -"

"I know you are a schemer, and a lier, and I know you will've been working on father for months before he agreed to force me into those awful conundrums. What did you face Tristan with to turn him on me?"

My brother tried to back into a corner. "No one was turning on-"

"You stole my fucking future." I shouted, my hands going for his throat, knocking him to the ground in the process. I fell with him. He was weak against me as I pushed down. I watched purple discolouration creep up his neck, turn red into his eyes, I could see the begging in them trying to convince me to let go. But I wouldn't let go, he stole my life from me, now I'd reciprocate.

"Your Highness?" Shouts blared behind me.

"Go away." I ordered them. Fana tried to say something from beneath the noose of my hands; I could feel his larynx fighting.

Without warning or reverence my shoulders were jerked away. I was pulled from my brother by two strong men. I could've fought them off easily but that chance was gone for now. My brother shuffled back against the wall, staring at me through those crimson eyes. Those eyes were open, for now.

"Prince Afanasy, do you need me to-" I watched as one of the butlers - Gormen I think he was - weilded the bust of my father above his head, ready to strike me.

I stood up abruptly, causing all of them to jerk away - what a fine king I would've made.

"No need, Gormen." I explained. "I'm leaving." I looked brother dearest, his majesty, in the eye again. "I'm leaving right now." Then I continued on down the corridor, one hand fondling the key in my pocket. I bet Evie had gotten back to her home by now. I guess I ought to go and track her down, cherish memories with my match, just like father said.

The entrance hall thrummed with activity, Debutantes milling about, some beelining for me when they saw me, some sending flirtatious looks from afar, which I returned with winks.

"Your Highness, have you seen Evangeline?" A concerned voice asked.

"No, not in a while I must admit." I responded, flipping the key over and over in my pocket. "I'm on my way to look for her as we speak.

"Oh Gavrila would you like to go on a tour of the galleries?" Another voice joined the throng.

"Oh I couldn't possibly." I smiled out at whoever it was. "As I said I must go and find lady Bence." I breezed past them all, straight through the entrance hall, stopping briefly in my room to retrieve a sizeable sum of money, for travel expenses, my sword, for protection and my little brass shot glass, for the nostalgia. Then I found myself in the stables, mounting Saffron with difficulty, being not in my riding clothes.

Shouts echoed behind me as I rode away, my palace becoming smaller and smaller, the angered shouts of my palace guards fading away into the wind.

I rode solidly south for hours upon hours, Saffron never tired and neither did I.

My father was gone, that was the crux of it. He was gone. Dead. The man who had raised me, the man who I had intended to be all my life. The man I intended to be was dead. He passed without fight, just cold grey eyes.

And now here I was, made redundant. What was I without my title of crown Prince? What was I without my regiment? 47th were almost all dead, the rest dissipated or on medical leave. Fana would make a good king, I'm sure he would, but what of me? Who was I? The King's brother.

Throughout the history of my family the King's brother never survived. My uncles died six weeks after father ascended, by natural causes according to the books, but father had told me the truth of how it really happened.

I don't suppose Fana knew about the berries on the bush in my secret garden which had been curated for his death. It was tradition you see, that the king must murder his opposition with berries from that bush, well this king would not. No way.

Father wouldn't tell him to do that, would he? Fana isn't capable of murder anyway, he's squeamish, compassionate, weak. I should've killed him when I had the chance, like father taught me, no regrets. Yet there had been regrets. Before my brother's breath had even stopped memories had flooded into my mind of our childish adventures. He'd only had four of the five Brown sisters, he'd not yet seen seventeen, his crossbow was still unfinished. I couldn't end his life without him having finished it. He couldn't die before they had been completed.

The man I had intended to be had died instead.