A Tale of One Deviant (Book One)

Chapter 95: Välene's POV

My name is Välene Ailana de Bytriste. I am the nine year old first daughter, second child of the king of Bytriste. My brothers, first child and heir to the throne Andrew Bryan de Bytriste and second son Lars Micah de Bytriste, are large parts of my life.

     My father, the king, is not.

     My mother died a very long time ago, when I was three. Andrew was six and Lars was one, so they both similarly remember near to nothing about her. We just remember a smiling face, a short but terrifying time, and then silence. Our father never came near us, except for when he had to at the few social gatherings he actually bothered to attend. Even when we did meet, he was just a courteous but strict person who only cared about the well-being of the kingdom, the people, the everything else but his own children.

     I mean, we get it. These are very hard times, despite the recent uplift in crime and things like that. But still, you couldn't spare even a minute of your day?

     Like that, our family, which had been fairly close for royals, slowly broke apart. I'd only read about them and never seen one in real life, but I bet you could fit an iceberg in between us, the chasm was so wide.

     And similarly, no one could melt the ice between us all.

     Andrew grew up to become a troublesome fellow, Lars became a quiet child, and I just stopped caring. I looked around myself at the people passing by, heard their voices but didn't hear their words. I shut down, I guess. There was no point in staying on when everyone else was off.

     And as the last person of our family, Father became even more burdened by everything going on. More Demon summonings, more havoc, the threat of the war becoming more prominent in the capital as more nobles were "corrupted," more people switched out for less capable ones. The pressure of nobles who weren't switched out yet, trying to get their irksome daughters on the podium so Father would be forced into marrying one.

     "You need a queen!" is their constant excuse. I've heard that so many times I'm sick of it. Even Father's few distant friends have been pushing for it, thinking he's going to burn himself out soon. He was alone, working night and day with no one to support him in the way his wife used to. Anyone could see that it was too much for one man, and sadly I could as well. What I was sick of, I started to look at in a new light.

     Oh, and you couldn't forget the Church looming in on us too. Anyone who really looked could see they weren't doing anything to help this situation. They pray to the gods, supposedly. They are probably the reason the Demons started this war, since their wretched voices made the gods close the heavens so they didn't hear anymore. The Demons are probably a really horrible but necessary blessing, hidden behind a very, very thick veneer.

     What I read the war as: the gods pulling back to let the Demons attack, getting rid of the Church so humanity can start anew.

     I haven't shared this opinion with anyone. I know they would simply ruffle my hair and ask if my nanny snuck any alcohol into my drink at dinner, since she had actually done that once. It was on accident, of course (not really), but she was still fired anyway and I got a new caretaker: Immy. She was a real healthy lady, about fifty or so years old but still going strong. Seriously, she had her life together better than most people, but still acted like she was twenty years old.

     I tried to be a good sister for my little brother, I had tried (and gave up) to make my older brother act like a brother to us. I had tried to go see my father, only to find that he's too busy or he can't see us just yet. I considered abducting a trolley of papers so someone would have to hunt me down to find it, and I thought about just sneaking into his office to break down in tears in order to guilt-trip him, but I was raised to be better than that.