Ivaan's eyes narrowed, looking at the kit in his hand "Perhaps, I should... just maybe.......... listen to you" he murmured, " but what can I say.......I prefer tending to wounds that cut deeper than flesh."
Indu stood her ground. "You're trying to...
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Prince Ivaan limped into the dining hall, feeling weary and wounded. He had just returned from a battle, where he had led his army to victory over a hostile kingdom of Raynar. He had fought bravely and mercilessly, killing many enemies and taking their land. He had also received a wound on his chest and leg which was stitched and throbbing.
He expected to be greeted with some respect and honor, as the most successful and powerful warrior in the realm when none of his half-brothers dared to go on wars.
But he received none of that inside the palace. Instead, he received contempt and disdain, and labelled as the rebel and troublemaker of the court. He received indifference and neglect, as the and shame of the king within his house.
He looked at his father, the king, who was sitting at the head of the table. He was a weak and cowardly ruler, who cared only for his wealth and his pleasures by this time, his father was completely gone now there stood a low witted husband of his step mother a puppet. He was ignoring his son, and talking to his wife, the queen, who was smiling and deceiving him he wondered if the king was being slowly drugged lowering his wits.
He glanced at his half brothers, who were sitting next to the king and the queen Zain being the nearest, They were his rivals and enemies, who envied and hated him. They were plotting and scheming, to take his place and his glory. They were smirking and sneering, at his expense and his misery.
He turned to his half sister, who was sitting across from him. She was his ally or enemy he could never understand. She was shy and silent, in contrast to her brother's noise and fury.
He felt a pang of affection as he thought of his mother, who was not at the table. She was his mentor and protector, who loved and raised him.
She was the only thing that kept bringing him back to this house his mother was long gone but her memories and learning still lingered in this palace the beloved queen, the servents adored her wall filled with her painting and art as she herself was an artist, his father had restricted anyone to change any of those paintings one good thing his father had done ever since...
