Wings

8: My Brain Has Claimed Its Glory Over Me

TW: Abuse & spiraling into insanity!

Luke Castellan POV

Track: The Mind Electric, Miracle Musical

The castle is a cold place to live. The throne room, in particular, maintains a consistent feeling as though the entire room is about to freeze over. In the winter, it is not uncommon to be able to see my breath materialize in front of my face even while indoors.

The problem comes back to the rooms being so vast. Twenty fireplaces would not be enough. There's not enough body heat to warm anything up, either. Today the throne room is occupied only by my father, sitting regally upon his throne, two guards at each entrance and at my father's shoulders, and a few servants around the room dusting off large golden statues. That's what we trade for the warmth, I suppose—the whole room is lined with gold. Even the tiling that makes up the floor is marble with fleks of gold. A grand room for any potential visitors to appreciate. It's generous of my father to give guests such a beautiful view as they enter the palace for the first time.

My father is smiling at me, which makes me stand up straighter as I continue my slow approach. It is so rare that I make my father proud—it must have been years since I've last seen this expression on his face. I often feel as though I pour energy into being the ideal prince—and by extension, the ideal son—but I can't seem to get it right. My father certainly doesn't think so, anyway.

But now none of that matters because I've finally proved myself to him—all it took was reporting one monster, and I'm back in his good graces for the first time in years. The relief is indescribable. Perhaps he won't be so angry with me from now on; after all, now I've proven that I might be a worthy successor. Perhaps the...aggression directed at me will no longer be necessary now that I am no longer a failure.

I finally arrive in front of him, and I slowly sink to one knee and bow my head. "Your Majesty, you summoned me?"

"Stand," my father says, and I can hear the lightness in his voice—a small smile tugs at my lips. This is it—I've finally mended our relationship. I've grown into the man he needed me to be. From here on out, things will be good.

Good, good, good. Everything will be good. I want to laugh.

I stand and meet my father's eyes.

"General Clarisse and her troop will be returning to the castle very soon with the fruit of our labor," King Hermes informs me, a glint in his eye. "After so many years trying to function under the oppression of the Guardians' rule, we will finally break free—finally, I will be free to rule humanity as I see fit. No more meddling by the Guardian King—and it's thanks to you, my son, that any of this is possible."

Pride blooms in my chest. Our nation has struggled to grow under the oppresive thumb of the Guardians—they have a bad habit of sticking their noses where they don't belong, tying down our beautiful country and not allowing us to fulfill our great destiny. It's oppression—it's unfair. We must remove the Guardian's power over us, and then we will be truly free.

Which is why we need to capture the Monster.

"I am honored to serve you, father," I say. "I—"

"Your Majesty," my father corrects, his tone ice-cold for a withering second. A moment of silence interrupts our conversation as surprise spreads across my face. I had thought...

Well, I had thought wrong. It makes sense. A son of the king still must show respect to the king. Anything else would be heresy.

"I am honored to serve you, your Majesty," I correct myself, more quietly this time. But it's alright because even if he won't let me call him my father, things will still be better after this. The castle will be more tolerable. The bruises will fade.