Jonathan ordered for men to come over and they had the curtains rolled up as well as the large carpets.

"A knight household should not be stingy for such events," he said briskly as Clive and I stood by, watching the men decorate the place.

The curtains were a soft maroon and had tassels, while the carpet was dark blue with repeating dark brown designs. Of course, blue like our family.

"Is the ballroom not going to be used to dance?" Clive asked.

Jonathan sighed. "When knight families throw balls to meet suitable marriage partners, they are inviting them to what is more like a prolonged stay while socializing most nights together. It's important to have connections and friends first, and then from there we marry which family has more use."

"You sound like father," I hissed, and I looked to Jonathan, only a bit taller than me. My eyes must've been defiant because he looked away like a guilty dog.

We had all been drilled by father to the point we were unable to rebel. Jonathan, too, had a scarred back, although it's been years since I saw it.

"You were kind once," I reminded him softly.

"We have to marry. We have to—we have to be useful for father. He's been waiting to gather up some pawns and I'll marry who he chooses. What do you think I can do against that man?" Jonathan's voice was low, maybe so Clive didn't hear.

"Be your true self. Smile. I know you can love someone." I looked at him and he didn't respond.

"I'll busy myself eating the food," Clive joked, maybe to lighten the mood. "Nathan, have fun socializing!"

I have Jonathan a glance and he groaned. "Vagrant, you are to socialize with him. Don't sit around like Daniel. For your age there's both Heloise Leon and Carmine Wordsworth."

"Why are you letting me be?" Clive asked, wary.

"There's no sense in fighting my brother's friend and partner, isn't there?" Jonathan smiled and left to tell the men to put the curtains up, and he brought them chairs.

"He's a nice brother," Clive said.

"He's like father. Daniel and I always felt inferior, and most of all, we knew we had no right to when Jonathan worked and suffered so hard for this." I clutched my fists.

Jonathan would marry anyone our father chose, and be heir. I couldn't help but imagined Jonathan, who locked away his emotions and notions of love, regretting it in the future.

Most of all, I didn't want him to become father, and the Rottings House would forever continue in a vicious cycle.

Clive held my arm and I turned to him, snapping out of it.

"What it is?" I asked.

"I don't know. Your sad face doesn't make me happy." Clive seemed a bit out of it and released my arm. "It scared me for a moment."

"I thought you enjoyed my suffering," I snapped, reminded of what he said back in school.

"I did."

Anger rose. "Your love is infantile. You like me for simple reasons but you don't truly care for me to the depth you would suffer so I wouldn't have to."

Clive seemed shocked, and words I thought of repeatedly at night appeared one by one.

"I feel distant from you. I'm scared of you. Most of all, you're not normal!" I whispered the next words. "You like killing."

Clive didn't deny it.

I glared at him and he put on a this smile I wouldn't say sad, but it was like how a grownup looks at a child, thinking they were naive and weak.

"What do you want me to say?" Clive's tone was gentle, nurturing. "Would you like to see the fake me again?"

Back when we were tenth years, he seemed so different. So calm as he swam in the bath and teased me sometimes. Yet it wasn't him.

He wasn't the boy who slept amongst flowers after all.

I turned my head. "Be your real self. Just love me in this abnormal way."

Clive looked down and when he turned to leave he touched his left ear, and I felt lonely.

Clive's green eyes were on my ear, and I couldn't take it out unless I was going to live without him.

What a curse.

***

I asked Daniel to see me, most of all, alone and in secret.

I slipped into the kitchen where our cooks had retired after dinner, and I forced Clive to play chess with Jonathan, saying I wanted to see who was better.

Daniel lurked in the shadows before I walked in, too. The kitchen had no doorframe so we backed into the very far corner before he asked, voice low.

"What do you need from me?"

I steeled myself, but my hands shook and I loathed even doubting a family member. If Daniel really had relations with rebels what would I do?

Support him.

The answer in my head was quick, and I took a deep breath.

"Daniel, you can trust me. I will help you if you need my help," I said.

He seemed to smile. "What do you mean?"

"I know why you changed in Graycotts," I muttered. "The Headmaster."

"Fine, it happened," Daniel's voice sounded like Jonathan's when he was upset. "But what help are you saying? We can't go back in time."

"Are you involved with the rebels?" I whispered.

"What?" Daniel scoffed. "You think I'm helping rebels? For what? To take down His Majesty?"

"It has to be you or Jonathan. We have intel people have been sneaking in. There's meetings or something," I said, hoping even if he was lying to me, he would learn what the Headmaster was planning.

"I'm not doing anything with rebels!" Daniel snapped. "Even as the biggest failure of the Rottings I still care for my family enough to not endanger them!" Daniel sighed heavily.

Somehow I felt he was sincere. If Daniel was really guilty he would usually move this arms, tug on his ponytails or adjust his clothing. Also, Daniel never like secrets. He couldn't keep any, obviously.

"Why did you never tell us about the Headmaster?" I asked softly.

"I couldn't! I signed this—this waiver or something, this contract! I lost my best friend because I couldn't kill! I killed a man and I regretted it so much." Daniel held in tears but his voice cracked. "Do you do it? Kill rebels?"

"Rebels are not of Goldenvale. They do not love their peaceful life under His Majesty and the knights' rule. They are noblemen unhappy at their status," I said stoically.

"But they are humans!" Daniel's eyes glinted, and I saw they were the white of his left eye, now teary. I wondered if he could try under his eyepatch.

What do I say? How do I stand up for myself?

"I don't like it, but it's the duty of a knight, is it not? Jonathan has killed in battles and he's still strong. He's the knight people look to as a model," I whimpered.

"If you believe that, Nathan, then I'm disappointed in you. I don't want to hear anymore. Just—don't accuse our family of anything. Not even Frederich, I can vouch for him."

Daniel stepped closer and his eye looked bold. Sincere. Hurt.

I was becoming Clive. I was following a system I didn't understand just to be a knight. Of course, that was our ultimate goal, wasn't it? To keep killing, win medals, awards, and have a family—children.

I wanted to love Clive, away from this strange chaos.

"I believe you," I whispered.

"Is there anything to discuss?" Daniel asked.

"No."

Daniel left but stopped midway to turn to me. "I thought that friend of yours might've changed you, but you haven't. You must think I was a coward, but I would make that choice again and again. I didn't want to live a life sullied with sin."

Daniel's words felt so cold.

What if I had listened to Clive that day and said no to the Headmaster? Would I still be friends with Clive, or would I have drifted away with him as he had a better partner?

But morally, would I stop having this feeling inside of me? The fear I felt although I knew they were the ones dying. The feeling of seeing a corpse filled me with undeniable dread and guilt.

If only I had cared about myself.