Hearts at War (AlanxJeff) VI

43

Winner

"Jeff, I still think this is a bad idea. If something happens to you, what they'll do to me... I'll wish for death. Your husband can be... terrifying," I said, a shiver running down my spine as I recalled what he had done to Bank and his cold stare. "Besides, I don't want to be the reason the prophecy doesn't come true. It would be like giving my mother what she wants," I complained, my voice trembling with worry.

"Actually, you're worried about her, aren't you?" Jeff asked without stopping, his eyes fixed on the road.

"Well, even though I don't agree with her beliefs and methods, she's still my mother. You know what I asked for in return," I reminded him, trying to stay calm.

"Yes, I know. I'll talk to Alan and Charlie, trust me," Jeff responded with determination.

"I'm here because I trust you, but I'm regretting it. When you talked about a favor, you didn't mention any of this. You could say I came under false pretenses, almost like a kidnapping," I said, feeling the frustration grow inside me.

"It will be more believable to others if they think you forced me to come with you and not the other way around," he said with a mischievous smile.

I looked at him, perplexed. "Jeff, what have they done to you in the south? You used to be sweet, gentle, and innocent."

"We must adapt depending on the situation. And I... I wasn't like this," he exclaimed, embarrassed, his cheeks turning red.

I smiled. Well, he was still sweet and gentle.

I was the second of four brothers. The only illegitimate one. Or I was until the king gave my mother the status of queen consort and legitimized me. I became third in line to the throne. My brothers always hated me for it. Or so my mother always told me. They always looked at me with disdain and distrust. So I became bad. If they wanted to hate me, at least it would be for something. I no longer cared about earning their affection. Or anyone's. I was a prince no matter how much it hurt them. I was equal to them.

The youngest was Jeff, and the only omega. My mother hated him. I always thought she was jealous because the king went out of his way to protect him, like a delicate flower. And because he was the product of his only true love.

So at first, I hated him too. Jeff was terribly clumsy and innocent. With huge brown eyes that really looked at you. I always watched him secretly and sometimes found myself wanting to intervene when I saw what inevitably happened next: a fall, or small accidents. It was frustrating. And I began to understand why my father preferred to keep him locked up. That child didn't seem to have a survival instinct.

When I turned 10, he was already 5. And it was the first time we really talked.

He approached, looking around as if afraid someone might see him. And he gave me a cricket. "Happy birthday," he said, looking at me with anticipation. Thousands of rude and cutting responses went through my mind, but I could only muster a simple thank you. Which was enough to make his lips curve into a beautiful and tender smile.

Days passed, and my relationship with Jeff became more complex. Despite my attempts to keep my distance, his innocence and kindness disarmed me. Every time I saw him, I felt a mix of protection and guilt. How could I hate someone so pure?

And so, year after year, he always gave me something stupid, but he did it. He was the only one who remembered besides my mother. And I couldn't help but feel affection for him and consider him my true and only brother.

I knew his brothers had been planting the seed against me over time. I knew because, as the years passed, he looked at me with distrust and caution. Despite this, he never stopped sending me something. Nor did he stop talking to me when I approached. And we established a strange relationship, known only to the two of us.