Before passing through the mansion's vaulted basement corridors, which were heavily lined with ancient oil paintings and dusty antiques, I paused to look at the scene unfolding in the dim, torch-lit space.
"Viceroy," I called out softy, my voice drawing the attention of the boys who were scattered across the stone floor. "My handsome, gentlemanly little Alpha. Where is Uncle Samuel?"
Viceroy, despite his young age, was strictly adjusting Axel's fighting stance. The boy from the East let out a bored, heavy huff, trying to wiggle out of the tight grip. "All of this is pure nonsense! My father is already a king. I am already the crown prince, and I have thousands of soldiers to defend me. Why do I need to sweat in this dusty cellar?"
Theon, however, rolled his eyes dramatically and shoved his shoulder hard against his brother's. "It must be terribly boring not being my father's only child, Axel. Come on, I certainly can't carry a lazy boy on my back for the rest of my life!"
