I'm awoken by the sunshine on my face. I blink and rub my eyes, and then just lie on my back for a while, listening to the chirping birds and the distant voices coming from the castle yard. It's the first time since the flogging that my scars have allowed me to lie in this position. It must have something to do with the silken bed linen, so smooth against my skin.

I turn my head to look at the fireplace. The fire was almost extinguished when I went to bed, and now there's nothing left but some charred logs and black coals. The rope I tied to the fireplace screen is still there and its second end is still secured to Hadrian's bound wrists.

He's sitting on the floor, his back to the wall, watching me. His face looks gaunt, and there're dark circles under his eyes.

"Haven't slept, your highness?"

"On the floor?" His holds my gaze steadily. "With my hands tied? After I lost my whole family?"

"It's curious how you put the floor and the tied hands before losing your family. Apart from that, there was clearly no great love between your family members."

"Who are you to judge?" There's an undercurrent of contempt in his voice, which makes my annoyance rise again. I turn to my side and prop my head on my hand.

"You haven't lost your sister."

"I have lost her in the worst way possible." His gaze drifts away. "She poisoned father and beheaded Ferox." For a moment, a grimace of pain distorts his face. "But at least they died with dignity."

"No such luck for you."

He shakes his head slowly. "I guess dying comes harder to me."

There's a knock on the door. Before I can answer, Grumio walks in, barely recognizable in his new clothes. Over the white shirt, fashionably frilled at the wrists, he wears a short-waisted doublet with golden embroidery of leaves and flowers. Combined with his close-fitting trousers and shiny leather boots, his appearance conveys the impression of wealth and nobility. It gives me a pause, seeing how much clothes can change a man.

Hadrian frowns at him, and then his eyebrows go up and his gaze shifts to me.

"You..." he says. "Oh, right. You've mentioned a twin."

Without a word, Grumio approaches the bed, and then surprises me by jumping into it. I only have a brief moment to remove myself from his path before he lands on his back, and then we are lying side by side, gazing at the ornate ceiling above us.

"So soft," Grumio mutters. "I was always curious what it felt like to sleep in it."

"Nothing special," I say.

"I see you haven't killed him."

I don't reply, and he throws a sideways glance at me. "Did he try to charm his way out of this, brother? Because that's how he gets what he wants."

"No," I say, remembering Hadrian's behavior last night. There was nothing charming about it. "I just thought of a more fitting punishment for him."

"Such as?"

"Making him a servant."

"What?" Grumio frowns at me, then hums thoughtfully, then smiles. "Nice! I wouldn't have thought of it."

In one quick movement, he rolls off the bed and walks towards Hadrian, who draws himself into a straighter sitting position. Grumio stops in front of him, bends, and pulls at Hadrian's hair, forcing his face up.

"Nice," he repeats, drawing his index finger along Hadrian's cheekbone. "He always had a nice face."

"Get your hands off me," says Hadrian, who has clearly regained at least some of his composure, despite the sleepless night.

"I though he was a girl the first time I saw him," Grumio continues, ignoring him. "I was twelve, he was ten. What a pretty girl, I thought. And then it turned out he was a prince, and I got flogged for staring."

"I wonder who gave the order," says Hadrian. "They should have cut your head off."

"Not a wise way to speak to your new master's brother." Grumio evaluates him some more, then looks at me, grinning. "How Ferrox used to say—can I borrow your servant's mouth for a minute?"

I look at him in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"I wouldn't stick anything of value into my mouth," says Hadrian coolly, "unless you want to get rid of it."

Grumio blinks, then looks up, contemplating something. Then he pushes Hadrian's head away and wipes his hand on his pants.

"Nah, not really. This one didn't do such things. A pampered selfish piece of shit, but not a rapist. I wouldn't want him killed or raped or anything, just maybe locked up for good. Not that any of that is for me to decide." He turns back to me. "Anyway, you better get up. There's a huge feast in the great hall, and everybody is invited." He nods at Hadrian. "Don't forget him. Oliver has announced that in the end of the feast, the head of the last heir to the throne is to be presented to the public."

* Thank you for reading! I hope you're enjoying this story! Please remember to vote or leave feedback, it would really make my day :) *