Valuable Assests

Home Sweet Home

By the time we arrive at home, my stomach is in knots. My brother and I haven't said a single word to each other since I had the bright idea to answer him defiantly.

"We're home," Lance informs me flatly after we'd been sitting still in the carriage for a good five minutes as though I didn't know. Without a word, I open my door and hop, er, stumble out.

"I need to get you a cane," he says, clicking his tongue like he always does. I groan.

"I don't want your sympathy, brother," I spit.

He round the carriage to stand next to me. "Of course not, but you do want to heal, don't you?"

I sigh. "Fine." A look of satisfaction overcomes his face. He likes being listened to, no matter what about.

The building in front of me stands grand and tall, a beautiful yet ominous castle. It's truly something to behold. Larger than any words could describe, its corners are turrets as tall as the tales that are told, the cold, dark stone remind me of everyone within it. The tilt yards out back are an accurate representation of my father with their fights, or maybe the gallows with their beatings and ultimate hangings.

It had been more than once that he'd tried to kill me. Once, when I was only a child. Twelve, probably. He tried to drown me for crying.

I glance at my brother, staring up at our home before us. He'd been the only reason I'd survived, that day. He beat the living daylights out of our drunken father, knocked him clear out. What had happened to Lance that he became so... I can't find a good enough word.

I hadn't realized how long I'd stood there until Lance took me by the arm, gentler this time, and helped me to the gates and past them. I know now that I am visibly fearful. Lance may be kind at first, putting up with me while he sees it fitting, but he will lose his patience all too soon. More than any other, that is the moment I fear.

"Come on," he says, "I'll get you past Dad quick. You can still have your old room- no one else uses it. I nearly go limp. My father? Home? He's never here anymore.

"Shouldn't he be off somewhere getting drunk out of his mind," I say slowly, hopefully, as though he'll correct himself.

Lance shakes his head as the front doors are opened my soldiers at out arrival. "Drunk, yes, but drunk at home." I freeze in the entrance. It takes all I have inside of me not to bolt. Lance jerks me forward. "Come on, get out of the way," he says as the doors beginning shutting behind us, effectively locking be inside and sealing my fate. Besides, I would have nowhere to run. Even if I wouldn't get caught within three steps, as slow as I am.

God, sometimes I wish my mother would take her knowledge of poisons and put it to good use on both Lance and my father This place would become much more inviting for me, were that to happen.

I take a deep breath, avoiding the voice in my head screaming "No!" I'm thankful for the glass of wine I had. While I've been trying to ween off of alcohol somewhat (more so due to Max insisting it's making it harder for me to recover than my wanting to do it), the headaches and fatigue among other things are, to say the least, unsettling. The alcohol pushes some of that away, at least, it only for the shortest of times.

The initial room you walk into is a humongous foyer. A half-flight on the far wall leads directly to the landing that my room is on. Despite this, Lance leads me past the main room and into one of the maze-like halls behind me. Granted, there is a way into my room, er, my wardrobe, from back here, but no one ever uses it. "Dad might be in his room," he explains, voice lowered, "This way, we don't have to walk straight past it. Hopefully, he won't be down this wa-"