Tournament of Crowns: Gods Among Titans

Eleven

BRANDETH

I found myself writing at my desk in my sleeping quarters, making sure that no one else was around. They didn't deserve to know what I was up to. Nor did they want to know what I had in mind. What I had in mind was something dark and cutthroat. Something that was birthed out of the darkest part of my mind. It was something that I hadn't even thought about until now when I allowed the darkest demons of mine rise to the surface.

But what was I writing about? Who was I writing to?

Well, it's quite simple but complicated. Simple, because I know exactly who I'm writing to and what I'm writing. Complicated, because the person I am writing to is someone I know dearly and also someone that I consider a political enemy.

My own daughter...Anaysha.

But as I continued to write my ill-wishing letter, my eldest son walked into the room, but this time, it was out of his own accord rather than at my behest. He peered over my shoulder to try and get a good glimpse of what I was writing, but he never got that good of an idea.

"What are you writing, Father?" Crodell asked.

I nearly fell out of my chair, being absolutely scared by my own son. In my defense, I was so invested in this letter I was writing to Anaysha that I completely shut off my awareness of my surroundings. I had to focus on my writing and make this letter something that tries to draw my daughter back...even though it might be a futile attempt.

"You scared the life out of me, Crodell!" I exclaimed, trying everything to cover up the letter.

"Well, I made it quite obvious that I was coming," my son defended.

I ignored the fact and briefly turned my attention to Crodell, taking a break from writing my letter to my daughter to focus on my eldest son. Because quite frankly, he's much more important than Anaysha at this moment.

"But what are you writing, Father? Surely, it has to be something good if you spend so much of your time devoted to that," he remarked.

My brows furrowed, and my eyes got darker and angrier. "What I'm writing is none of your concern."

"Does it have anything to do with the fact that Oberyn Martell won the duel, and your military general is now dead?" he asked.

"Don't remind me," I sternly answered, placing my finger along my temple. "If I'm reminded of that again, then I might just start up with the executions again."

Crodell briefly cracked his knuckles, while I made sure none of the ink on the paper had bled through the paper. There was no way in hell that I was going to let Crodell see what I was writing. If he found out, then I'd be deep in trouble with him...and I didn't want that, considering that he and I have a seemingly solid relationship at the moment.

"But don't you worry, son," I said proudly. "Anaysha will definitely be punished severely for what she's done."

Crodell's expression changed, and for a moment, I actually debated whether or not I should whip out a weapon to protect myself. I was scared, but only because I thought my son was going to turn against me. I considered myself in my own right mind to want to defend myself.

But the way I defended myself from Crodell wasn't anywhere near close to anything I originally thought of. I ended up bringing my hand back and slapping my son as hard as I could on his cheek. It was so hard that he ended up falling to the ground, clutching the place where I slapped him.

I didn't mean to smack him. I just had to protect myself. It was as though my mind went totally blank, and I didn't have any conscious control over what I was doing. But I couldn't apologize for my actions. I couldn't be vulnerable in the face of my son. Then, he'll know that I have a weakness.