Nomad {Editing}

::Epilogue iii:: Obedience

A blind man could have spotted Charlie's discomfort from a mile away.

The way he shifted from one foot to another, a deer caught in the sights of a hungry poacher and desperate to find a way out of the jaws of death. Yet by all accounts, it appeared there was no line of escape.

His instincts were screaming at the young boy to get out of here, and not just for his own sake.

Someone unused to the sight, may have thought he was a beggar boy who stumbled into the palace much by accident. Bags were bellow his eyes and his skin clung to his cheeks like fur to the body of a soaked rat.

Even in a time where war ravaged the land and starved the people of most resources. No son of the King had any right to look like this, and he stuck out like a sore thumb because of it. It felt like every set of eyes were fixed on him.

Most of them had only heard rumours about who he was, what he had become.

Yet fear didn't seem to be their primary response to this, they regarded him as though he was a circus animal. A form of entertainment, to be enjoyed if not slightly frightened by when it roared or went to bite its handler.

It appeared as though it was a lesson they would have to be taught in person if they were to learn to fear him.

Charlie was terrified to the very bone that this might be what happened.

Beside him stood his two brothers. Both of whom looked just as nervous as Charlie did, if not surpassing it. Only they appeared outwardly to be much more frustrated by what they were expected to do.

"I just don't like this," it was Robert who spoke. Much braver then his two younger brothers, eyes dancing from side to side. He too shifted from side to side, more feral than Charlie could ever remember seeing.

On the other hand Arthur was much stiller then his siblings. His lip dented inwards where he was furrowing a tooth into it. He barely seemed to notice the tiny wound he left in his flesh, as though determined to distract himself from the world around him.

The three brothers stood on the far wall before a great set of tables. Piled high with more food then any of them could remember seeing before. Despite not having eaten that day, none of them moved to steal something or take a bite. They were paralysed with fear, and not because of the boy standing beside them.

Charlie didn't bother to respond to his brother's words, his eyes fixed on the wall opposite them. Doing everything in his power to think about anything else, but it was counter active as now all he seemed to think of was how scared he felt.

"You don't have to like it," a voice from the other side of the hall sounded. "Just get on with it."

It was the Queen entering the hall, Violet at her side she passed the tables without acknowledging those who sat at them. All of whom had lifted themselves to their feet in respect of the monarch.

She came to stand beside her three sons, Violet following like a shadow at her side. The young girl regarded her brothers with an equally nervous look, though said nothing. Stopping to the left of Charlie, between him and Arthur.

On the surface they appeared to be a normal little family, neat, formal and sweet looking.

Even if the truth was anything but.

Now all they needed to do was wait for the King, who Charlie was unable to smell anywhere no matter how hard he tried. The young boy shifted uncomfortably again, gritting his teeth to direct his emotions somewhere. It didn't matter where.

A hand on his shoulder told him that the Queen had reached to touch him, unable to say anything aloud. His father's worst fear was the showing of emotion in front of the people. He preferred they appear gods to be worshipped then people to be loved.