You are nothing. Nothing. Did you really ever think you would amount to anything? How could you, you sickly, pathetic—

“Nicholas!” A man sat in a chair, head in his hands. He looked up slowly, eyes glazed and unfocused. Through the dark room he saw a figure making its way towards him.

“Look at all I have done,” he whispered. “Look at it all... my family, my kingdom… Do you call that nothing?” His voice got louder. “Do you call that nothing!”

“Nicholas!” The voice sounded farther away now. Your kingdom? A joke! Look at your brother, he is a real king. A prodigy, a war hero. And what are you? Some insignificant prince who ran away from home…

Nicholas looked up as he felt a touch on his shoulder. He looked up and saw his father’s face, and jerked away from the cold grip. “Get away from me,” he snarled. Those cold hands roughly grabbed his.

“Nicholas…” the voice was trembling. “Nicholas, look at me…” Eyes, narrowed, Nicholas complied. The face had changed. The hands were warmer, smoother…

“Catherine,” he said. His hands shook in hers. “Catherine…”

“I’m here,” she said quietly. “Come, it’s late. Let’s get to bed.” Nicholas heaved himself out of his chair, his eyes wide and hopeless.

“Yes…” he whispered. He let himself be led down the corridors to his bedroom.

A few hours before dawn, Nicholas was still lying awake in his bed. Beside him, Catherine’s breathing was deep and steady. He listened to it for a while, then took her into his arms and held her tightly, like he was afraid she would disappear.

When Catherine awoke, Nicholas was gone. She sighed, got dressed, and headed out the door.

She found him writing at his jewel-encrusted desk. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sending the troops out to war,” he replied calmly.

“What?” she cried in disbelief. Why?” Across the room, fear flitted across the face of one of the guards, quickly to be replaced by his customary blank expression. Neither monarch noticed. “Why would you do that?” she asked again. Nicholas looked away, his face set. “So I can reclaim what is rightfully mine.”

---

Some miles away, a man sat at a delicately carved desk, a blank sheet of parchment before him. His thoughts and emotions churned, and the man yearned to write them down, to explain everything. But he couldn’t find the words. It saddened him to think that he couldn’t even write a letter to his brother, the person he had loved most in the whole world for almost his entire life. Behind him, a woman entered the room.

The man didn’t look up from the parchment but heaved a sigh. “Jacqueline, I don’t know what to say,” he said. “What can you say to a man you haven’t talked to for fifteen years?”

“Just say whatever comes naturally. Tell him you love him; tell him you want to see him again!”

“He’s still angry at me, I know he is,” the man muttered. “And I know him. If I tell him I want to see him again, he’ll just think I’m trying to ruin his life. Again.” His face hardened. “I just won’t say anything, and we can all get on with our lives.”

“Jonathan, don’t say that! Just write the letter!” But Jonathan had made up his mind.

“No. I’m going to bed.” He got up from his chair and walked out of the room.

---

“Nicholas, think about what you are doing,” pleaded Catherine that night.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now, and I don’t see any alternative,” said Nicholas.

“You don’t see any alternative?” cried Catherine in disbelief. Have you ever thought about talking to your brother?”
“Oh, yes,” said Nicholas bitterly. “But why in God’s name would brilliant, perfect Jonathan want to talk to sickly, pathetic, old me?”

“Nicholas, Jonathan doesn’t believe any of that. Do you really think he’d listen to your father?”

“Yes, I do. And he did!”

“No, he didn’t! Jonathan cares for you deeply. You’re his only family, for God’s sake. Your father was a crazy old man, and Jonathan defended you, did you ever know that? He wasn’t trying to steal your kingdom!”

“Yet that’s exactly what he did,” growled Nicholas.

“He had no choice! You were gone, what was he supposed to do when your father died, just let the kingdom fall into ruin?”

“He could’ve given me back that which is rightfully mine,” said Nicholas. “Now just go away, I’ve made up my mind. Nothing you can say will change that.” Catherine got up slowly, then turned and walked out of the room. When the door had closed, Nicholas put his head in his hands and didn’t move for a very long time. The demons had come back, and now there was no one to drive them away.

---

The guard that had been attending Nicholas sat at a much humbler desk than that of the king, but was writing a correspondence of equal importance. He wrote impossibly fast; his hand was a blur, the parchment splattered with ink. It was imperative that he send his letter as soon as possible. Lives hung in the balance. He finished his letter, and set off at a run towards the stables.

---

“Letter for you, sire.” Jonathan took the scroll from the servant. His heart skipped a beat when he saw who it was from.

His hands shook as he opened it. As he read it, his face got longer and longer. When he had finished, he put his head in his hands and the parchment dropped from his limp fingers. “Oh God,” he breathed. “Please give me strength.”