Under the light of candles and moon, where air is musky, in the late hour of night, prince Iyan trained with a wooden sword and a dummy. His shirt wet from sweat, the same one he wore to dinner just a few hours ago, now he was swinging his sword right at the dummy's neck and stopping just a moment before it would hit. He has been doing this for hours without stopping.
Neftali knew this was the place where she would find him, this is where he spent all his time while home. Training constantly, several times a day. It was his defence mechanism, only way he knew how to fight thoughts and feelings.
Iyan stopped when Neftali opened the heavy wooden door of the training room. The look on his face was like the one of a person who just woke up from a trance.
"Neftali?" He said confused.
"Brother." They didn't greet each other.
"Come in."
Neftali entered and sat on the fence surrounding the training area. The training room was big, with numbers and numbers of dull metal swords as well as many broken wooden ones. There were shields, both metal and wooden, deeply scared, hanged on the walls and spattered around. Chest plates, spears, many wooden dummies, with many missing body parts and funny faces drawn on them. The one Iyan was training one had no arms or legs, only a torso and a head that stood crocked. The training area, with dirt floor, was surrounded by a stone fence with bags of hay covering it from insides. It was meant to protect flying trainees from breaking their heads on it, which can happen many times during training. On the ceiling, like many other rooms in the palace, there was a glass roof that let the moon light come in.
This is the main training room, witch meant it was used by every training group in the palace, from Imperial guards to young soldiers that would train in the palace for a short period of time every year, and of course, the prince Iyan. Even if his father disapproved it, he still comes here every day.
"Why are you here?" Iyan asked his sister, who since she came, was sitting still on the fence, in silence, watching, not him but the sword he repeatedly swung.
"I want to talk to you."
"Why?"
"Because I can't talk to mother about this and you are my only option."
Two of them, Iyan and Neftali, were so close in age that a an would think they get along well, it was quite the opposite, of course, at the end of the day they loved each other very much but they didn't hang out or talked much. It was not that they disliked one another, only issue was that they didn't grow up together. Iyan was always, from a very young age, surrounded by professors and tutors, busy with training, even his free time couldn't be spend to his liking, constant forcing of training quickly became a habit, only thing he truly did at free time was sleeping. Neftali was always heavily guarded by their mother, always by her side or in company of her aunts - their mother's court ladies. She learned basic thing for one noble lady, chess, horseback ridding, literature, dancing, manners. So they rarely played as children, and now even thou they go to the same academy, they rarely saw each other. Same things still kept them apart. But still they always could count on one another for anything.
Iyan stopped for a moment. "Must be something rough when I am your only option."
"Well I am upset by what happened at the dinner and I thought your would be too." She said in her usual annoyed tone.
"Don't you see I am?"
"What are you doing exactly?"
"Practising control."
"For what?"
"To not do something stupid." Iyan stood silent for a moment, looking at the dummy in front of him. Only one without a face drown on it. "Is it always like that?"
Like he didn't spend much time with Neftali, he also didn't spend much time with his parents together. Separate yes, but together never. The thing he experienced today was something he never saw before. That one sided war at the dinner table.
"Yes," Neftali answered, and turned her head not to look at him. "It has gotten worst now, with your situation. He is angry, very angry."
"I can see that. But still what right he has to be so mad? Mother has every right to decide who will be the heir out the two of us. She is the Empress."
"Tell that to father."
"I should! Truly! Sometimes I wish their roles were turned, I wish mother would be the more fierce one!"
"You know she wouldn't want that."
"She can, you saw how she spoke in court."
"I know she can, I am saying she wont." They exchanged a look, they both knew what Neftali was talking about. "Mother would never want to rule."
It was true, Empress had little to no actual impact on ruling of the empire, she is in charge of the palace, the events, the staff, the garden, the temple, the children and only a small part in the peace comity that her children didn't know much about. She never, not even once, showed any signs that there is more power she wants. Empress is greatly loved by everyone, in that way she has connections but using them in not in her own interest. While her relationship with Emperor was good he would often come to her for advice, as she is well educated, smart. and most importantly her decision isn't influenced by her own gain in the matter. That made her the most valuable person for solving important political issues. With Emperor now turning to his advisor, Sullivan, and it is showing. Somehow, everything was slowly crumbling.
"We will never know that for certain." Iyan had always strongly believed that their mother would be an excellent leader and nothing could change his mind.
"I believe father shares a similar opinion, only in form of fear and I am also in fear, that something will happen with mother. That that is why she named you the heir."
Iyan suddenly remembered what mother had told him earlier today, what she made him promise. He didn't think much of it then, the promise was honest, but no hidden reason he suspected from it.
Iyan looked at the sword in his hand. "She named me an heir, because of a predictions."
"We both know not to play with her predictions."
"Only one person is dumb enough to doubt her predictions."
"Do you think he still doubts them, even after what happened to cousin Dolores?"
Dolores de Romanet, wife of Marcus de Romanet, youngest cousin of their father, their uncle, one of many, had an unfortunate fate of dying during childbirth. Her baby was born prematurely, two months early, child, a boy that they didn't even have time to name properly, died a day after his mother. This misfortune was predicted by the Empress a few days before the death would happen. Empress had a dream about Dolores dying, she told nobody about it like she never does when it comes to her predictions from dreams, in fear that the moment she would said them out loud, the event would happen exactly like she feared. Empress wrote to Dolores, they were pen pals. Dolores was younger that her, she came from a noble family that moved to the capital from the South Empire. The same country her Majesty is from, when Marcus first brought her to meet the Emperor, two of them became quite close, there was comfort in having someone you could talk in your native language with. It was a dear friendship to both of them. Especially because the woman of Romanet family often didn't hold close relationships with each other, they were quite hostile even. The family met once a year, on the annual gathering in a family villa hidden somewhere, nobody except male family members knew where the villa was located, since they were the only ones allowed to come with their children. After all, they were blood, the ones born with surname Romanet next to their name, were the real Romanets, wives were replaceable.
Other then the gathering, family didn't meet each other, they lived scattered all over the Empire and rarely communicated. Weddings and funerals were their reason to communicate and nothing else. Having someone close in that kind of environment, someone that came from the same place, was everything.
When a life of a person like that is in danger you don't play about it. In the letter Empress asked pregnant Dolores to watch her health and makes sure she rests, that letter she gave to her husband to deliver, since he was going to visit them. Marcus and Dolores lived at the capital, so he often went to see them.
Dolores's early labour started because she fell down the stairs, in the Emperor hadn't heard her scream and found her at the floor unconscious she would probably died at that very spot. They called for a doctor but once the labour started there was nothing he could do.
Letter she never opened, Emperor returned it sealed with news of her death that very night. Empress was devastated, especially because the Emperor forbade her from going to her funeral.
Neftali secretly took that very same letter from her mothers office, it was left on the table, neatly placed on a silver tray, like it was waiting to be delivered. Neftali opened it, read it and then showed it to her brother. Mother caught them, but forgave them since it was already too late to do anything.
Empress is now even more secretive about her predictions since then, all the actions that need to be done in order to be make sure the prediction doesn't come true she solely takes upon herself. Now it was the same, nobody knew nothing about her prediction, there were only assumptions.
Dolores's death had a great impact on her, death of her child even more, final blow was not being able to attend her funeral, to say that final goodbye.
After her death, it was like the plague had spread over Romanet family. To this day, female members of the family had been dyeing one after the other. True, many were old, matrons of the family, dyeing from old age and sickness that was slowly killing them for years, but the younger ones also died. Tragic deaths, from tuberculosis, the one that killed immediately, some downed, some took their own life, some just found themselves in wrong place at the wrong time.
Only a few of them are still alive, besides Empress Katherine, only two matrons are still alive, both close to the hundred years of age. Three of them, except Neftali, were only female members alive.
Their mother knew every time one of the woman died, father would tell her, but always probate her from mourning or going to funerals. Even sending her condolences to the family.
"I doubt he does." Iyan admitted.
"There is something on his mind." Neftali said. "He reeks of evil."
"You still think he killed Dolores?" Iyan asked her. That was Neftali's theory since she heard of her death and who found her.
She looked at the sky. "There is something in me that believes, without a doubt, that he pushed her down those stairs." The night was clear, half moon was present in the sky. "Think about all the others that dies since that." She looked her brother in the eyes. "What will happen after the two hags die? Who do you think is next?"
Iyan was looking at her, drip on his sword became tighter. "Nobody will touch mother. Nobody has and nobody will. Same goes for you."
Neftali almost laughed. "I don't think anything will happen to me regardless."
"Do you know something that I don't?"
"Only suspicions, and like mother keeps hers to herself, I will keep my to myself." Neftali smiled sadly. "Like her I hope I am wrong."
"Still, we will protect both of you." Iyan swung his sword at the dummy again, like he did before.
"Did he told you to do that?" Neftali asked while watching him train again. All his focus was again put towards the sword and the neck.
"When he comes back, I am supposed to cut its head." He fixed the dummy's crocked head before swinging the sword again.
"That will be easy with a real sword."
Iyan stopped and almost laughed. "A real sword? No, with this one." He showed her the dull and weak wooden sword made out of some kind of wood.
Neftali shrugged her shoulders. "Its my fault for asking stupid questions." She got of the fence and turned to go. "Sometimes I forget who I am dealing with."
"The greatest soldier alive and his pupil?"
"Two idiots."
"One day you will take the sword in your hands sister, then you will understand."
"Goodnight brother." Unbothered by his words, Neftali left him alone in the training room.