UnShaekable (FFXII)

XXI) Runaway Royalty

~6 years before~

"Where's Gregor?!" I demand, shoving Vayne's pale hands away from my shoulders. Hot tears burn scorching trails down my cheeks, dripping from my trembling chin to the gleaming floor. "He and Beldroth should be back by now!" Vayne sighs, shaking his head.

"Shera, you know not of-"

"I don't care!" I scream, ignoring the stares of servants peeking around doorways to watch the royal siblings fight. "What did you do?!"

"Come now," Vayne replies earnestly, bowing lower to rest his cold fingers on my shoulders. "Let us speak somewhere else."

"Why?" I demand, glaring up at him spitefully. "You don't want to admit to your crimes in front of the slaves you keep? They cannot possibly understand your hellish sins."

"Shera," he says firmly, dark hair swishing over his shoulder as he shakes his head. "There are none to confess. Be civil about this."

"Civil," I repeat with a cackle before pressing my hands firmly to his chest, shoving him backward. "Get off me."

I wrap my arms around myself tightly as we walk toward the broad doors to Vayne's bedroom after scrubbing the salty tears from my skin. I knew something was wrong when Vayne began to whisper to Father, to make him frown and stare out the window pensively for hours on end. And now... Gregor and Beldroth have gone missing, my two eldest brothers with sparkling blue eyes and bold laughs and benevolent spirits. The worst part? Vayne made me join his games without telling me.

"Better to speak in private," Vayne murmurs, shutting the tall, golden doors behind him.

"What have you done?" I demand, turning on my heels to scowl up at him. "I know you convinced Gramis of something, and now they're gone. You tricked me."

"There was no convincing to be done," Vayne replies smoothly, clasping his hands behind his back and pacing toward his bed. He strokes his fingers across the smooth, forest green sheets gently, eyes narrowed with deep thought. "I merely opened his eyes. Saved his life, even."

"You tricked me," I repeat tightly, blinking the bitter tears from my eyes and letting them shamelessly slide down my face. "How can you feel no remorse for such ruthless bloodshed?"

"Sister, do you understand what they were planning?" he asks sharply. I frown, watching as he spares me a glance over his shoulder, eyes falling to the smooth floor. "For fear of his life and of the prosperity of his people, Father ordered that I kill our elder brothers. Yes, I will admit it. Perhaps I even did it gladly, removing that smug smile from Beldroth's lips through your unwilling hand. However, the true reason has yet to be revealed to you and so you are hurt." He turns slowly, settling on the edge of his bed. His eyes are fixated on me earnestly now, sharp and sly though they may be. "My dear Shera, they were leading a ploy to overtake the power of the throne for themselves. I, too, found it hard to believe, but evidence I simply cannot share with you points to a charge none other than treason."

I choke on a shudder than racks up my spine, my fingernails pressing perfect crescents into my palms. He's a liar. He's a manipulator. He's... He's a #$%^&*# snake. Vayne... the man who put me in that defensive unit. The man who ordered me to blow that district up—it was only full of supplies. The man who smooth-talked to drown out the screams. The very same man who fooled me into slaughtering my own brothers begs me to trust him. Vayne, with brows furrowed and head tilted, sighs.

"I can see you doubt, and trust me when I say it breaks my heart. In times of anarchy, things such as turning against your brother are far too common. You and Larsa, however..." He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. In his eyes shines the most hume response to distress I have yet to see from him. "I would never turn on either of you. I firmly believe you both have far too much sense to betray our father and our nation."