The Witch's Cursed Daughter

85. Tensions

The meal concluded after a long silence, ushered along by the cheerful, love-struck princess day-dreaming of her future married life. As well as the older prince whose eyes were harsh to everything they met and the smug Emperor who was pleased with his rufflement of Julian's mental state. With the last morsel slipping nauseatingly easily down the back of his throat, Julian excused himself without another word.

Eten Hall was in the centre of the palace. Passing through corridors decked in extremes of precious metals, stones, and fabrics, their sickly presence caused Julian's steps to quicken. The prized possessions earned by rampages and killing were not things he wished to be in his company. Rounding a corner into the fresh air, Julian found himself thankful for the brisk chill which slowed his heart rate. As he peered over the low, marble balcony which edged the veranda of Warrick Palace, Julian watched the clouds in the distance racing like snails on approach to their destination.

"You've been holding your end of the deal well," sounded a familiar voice; it was softer yet still stern and intimidating from behind. Spinning on his heels, the second prince faced the first, their eyes clashing and their faces expressionless.

Leaning back against the cold barrier, Julian brushed his hair away from his forehead before replying, "Although it has taken four years."

"One more night and our business will conclude," Wen retorted quickly, unshaken by Julian's lackadaisical stance. The two fell quiet once more, allowing the breeze to whisk between them, carrying supple whispers from further upwind.

Closing his ears to the curious mumbles which remained inaudible, Julian smirked, "I suppose I am looking forward to severing our father's head from his body,"

"You have changed."

"So have you."

The brothers glared at each other. Neither one had come to this point voluntarily. Their choices had led them to one another as if fate had planned their destiny around Evianna.

"Hardly," Wen bitterly spat. Frustrated with the conversation and curious about the words in the air, Wen began to walk along the walkway. Not waiting on Julian to join him, Wen said aloud, "Duke Fassie signalled that everything is going according to plan."

"Excellent," Julian responded as he briskly marched to keep up. Again, the pair spoke no words, aware that little was shared between them. The evening sun peeked through the bright-white pillars that extended high above, pouring golden light onto the princes. Admiring the many colours in the pre-dusk sky, the purples merging delicately with the distant hills caught Julian's eye. "Was it worth using Evianna? Have you got what you wanted?"

Wen paused for a moment, his feet jolting as if Julian had pressed a sword against his ankles. As his stride resumed, a melancholy look dyed his face, "When I walk through the palace Wall without the need to check over my shoulder, I will be satisfied."

Julian accepted the answer. The far-off chorus of cheers and songs began to be replaced by intense tones and the harsh smacking of lips firing angry words. Reaching a staircase descending in the direction of Lupine Palace, Julian and Wen discovered the heated conversation belonged to Romile and Voster. The two stood there, amazed by the unconcealed, beastlike fury radiating between them.

Romile approached Voster with heavy steps, using his height in an attempt to intimidate the Mage, "I only asked you to admit it. If I can see it, so can Julian!"

"I'll admit nothing," Voster shot back, inching closer too, almost meeting the Guard's toes. "I do not answer to you, and whatever answer you seek from me will greatly disappoint you," he sneered cheekily.

"It's far too late for that," Romile roared while extending his hand towards Voster's nape, "the moment you allowed yourself to yearn for something that will never be yours, I stepped off our shared path."

"Your path is His Highness's, and so is mine. You can't be free of me or your delusions," the Mage scoffed as he simply deflected Romile's hand with a static burn that filled the surroundings with the scent of sizzling flesh.

Gripping his hand while gritting his teeth, Romile released his aura as he thundered, "Delusions? How dare..."

As the two shifted into an attack stance, Julian rushed down the staircase, his boots tapping as they met the smooth surface of the stone. "Romile! Watch your volume within the palace and dissipate your Purge," he yelled, throwing his arms up between them.

Despite being shaken by his sudden appearance, Romile collected himself and shook his head, "Your Highness, Voster..."

"I know what you want to say. Not only is it none of our business, but Voster is also entitled to hold onto his emotions just as firmly as others."

"But Julian, this is Evianna," Romile seethed as he closed his eyes to control his aura, "Is she not yours?"

No response formed on Julian's tongue at that moment, the last light of day slipping away, darkening the world, shadowing his mind. Sighing deeply, he turned to Romile and examined the face of his friend; concern brimmed in his eyes. Unable to further delay his response, Julian sighed once again, "We spoke about this back in Bulen, right before Voster burst into the tent as he returned from Hoiren. Evianna is not mine. Not once had we made such a commitment; she is my saviour, my friend, as well as yours and Voster's. However, neither one of us was of the mind that it was something more at the time."

"And now?"

Julian spun around, astonished by Wen's input. "And now, what?"

"Has your current self fallen for the memory of a girl who saved you only to succumb to mindless torture at the hands of your family? Our family?" Wen's expression was drawn; the shadow caused by his fringe further deepened the pressure of his gaze. Standing on the steps a little higher than the three, he seemed to oppress them with his presence alone.

Julian stared at Wen, his lips separating as his mind whirled for an answer. Before an irreversible response could escape through his teeth, light blasted through the sky, accompanied by an explosion.