Young Prince Brand

Alexander forcefully nudged him. "Whatever made you think I have my eyes on her?"

Charles rubbed down his aching shoulder. "The few seconds it took to look away from her." He deadpanned. "Your overstated compliments? Your insincere attention? Need I go on? Stay away from them."

"You misinterpret my intent. All I spoke on was her beauty."

Charles turned to him. "Best to leave it so."

Alexander raised an eyebrow, eyes locked on his. None spoke, both battling for victory, one with exalted position and status, the other, with age. Their body stature gave both leverages, for though an inch shorter than Alexander, Charles was bigger, and without the smile on his face, he was fiercer. But Alexander commanded him. For though friends, their status has done well to set them apart and one under the other. After a few moments, the lips of the King pulled slightly to the right, the silence was broken. "Careful Carlisle," He warned with a drawl. "You are a step away from treason."

Charles fisted his hands and squeezed them, frustrated, exasperated. He really needed a cigar. "They are under my protection by my solemn words to Lord Gallagher."

No words. "I pose a threat?" He scoffed, his left hand pressing on his temple. "If my experience is to be reckoned with, they should be protected from you, Lady Beth most of all, you heartless bastard." He scoffed again and moved the hand to stroke his chin. "Seeing as she is my subject, I should warn her." He started away.

Charles immediately turned to grab unto his arm. "What in goodness name are you up to?" When Alexander's lips pulled up, he knew he had been caught. He had, as when they were young, fallen for the tease of the King. "You are a bastard." He declared, fearlessly.

"Oh, what is life without a little fun?" Alexander asked with a snicker.

"Is life simply a joke to you?" He let go. "Cast whatever foul thoughts there are out of your mind. It is simply her friendship I seek." He walked away from the window and Alexander, but he was followed.

"Are you certain?"

He spared an irritated glance. "The council meeting, what is it about?"

Alexander snickered, but Charles refused to care. Another net had been cast out, this time, he would not be a victim. He simply refused to bite. "The outbreak of bandits on the borders. Reports are coming in daily and the people no longer feel safe. Pirate attacks have also increased."

Charles turned. "Pirate attacks? I was of the notion that Brand and his fleet had that under control."

"Perhaps." Alexander walked past him to stand before his throne, staring at it. His throne. "To what degree of control they possess, I need to know."

Charles watched his friend stare endlessly at the throne – his inheritance since birth, his possession from a young age. Alexander has never craved the throne, not once. Many people thought he held onto the throne as his Father did – greedily and handsomely – never to let go, but Charles knew that without a moment to lose, he would give it all up for what he deemed more important, more befitting, more deserving. He craved for a close relationship with all who mattered to him and shrewdly he had attained them all. The throne was a burden, a burden he was born to bear and a burden he bore all too well.

He knew how much power required strength from the one who wielded it and how much it demanded from the one who must enjoy it. At the least, Alexander had support. "Who is to be in attendance?" He called out.

The King snapped out of limbo, climbed up to his throne and sat flimsily on it. Charles walked to stand before him. "You, Brand, the Dukes of Chamberleane, Wynton and Waichester and the Viscounts of Sorway and Ackley."

Sorway? His eyebrow rode high. "The Viscount of Sorway? Cossington?"

Alexander feigned innocence. "Yes, as will the court's Ministers and Solicitors." The vexing smile slowly returned. "But why do you care only about the presence of Cossington?"

"Everything is an amusement to you, are they not?"

He nested his chin in his right palm again, while waving the left hand. "Life itself is an amusement to me." His eyes drooped from excitement. "You do not want your brother-in-law anywhere near your… interest?" He flicked a finger.

"Alexander." He cautioned, knowing full well the King would pay no mind. "Lady Cossington and I are not wed yet."

"I see." He chuckled. "Then, is it that you'd like him not to be any the wiser? That you would rather tour another, than of his obnoxious sister? That the company of another woman was much preferred to that of the woman you are affianced to?"

Charles fixed his gaze upon Alexander, a gaze that had been effective in intimidating all and sundry. He let the seconds pass, but the King neither gave up nor gave in. Although he was the King, Charles hoped that someday, age would precede and gain an upper hand over authority and power. "I care not about your thoughts, or if Cossington is to be in attendance, I simply hate the thought of him near the Fitzgerald sisters."

The smile was gone so fast Charles thought he had imagined it there. "Why? Did he misbehave with them?"

Charles sighed. "It is a proud doubt." He looked up. "I will find out in due course." The smile returned slowly and Charles turned away. Irritated, he declared. "Enough with your suggestive look! When is Brand to arrive?"

The doors opened. "Now!" They turned to the doors.

The young Prince sauntered into the room dressed every bit as the pirate he was not; a sword to the hip and an eye patch on his left eye. The spurs on his boots jingled with every step he took towards them. A smile, which bore a semblance to that of the King, highlighted his face for the briefest of moments. He was favouring his right leg with a swagger none would expect. Charles watched the young man walk and was again reminded that age was nothing but numbers.

Alexander waved the doors to be closed as Brand exchanged a quick handshake with Charles. Then, "Your Majesty, I trust you have been in good health." He bowed in all sincerity.

Alexander scoffed. "The prodigal brother returns."

Brand climbed up to him. "I never left home to squander my inheritance. In truth, I left home with nothing."

Alexander gave a short, sharp and loud laugh. "You speak as if you were thrown out. I am glad you still refer to this place as your home." He said, gesturing at the walls. To Charles, he said sarcastically. "I had no knowledge this remains his home. I should be glad, I suppose." Charles shook his head. When will this end? He thought.

Brand inclined his head. "You make me work. I leave only to fulfil my duties to the Kingdom, and to prove my fealty to my King."

"What honourable words and how kind they sound." Alexander mocked. Charles walked to the window once more. "If you would choose the high seas in comparison to the Castle, then I might as well make good use of you. But now, you make it sound like I banished you to the seas and it's cold waters." Brand waved off. "A fit I would definitely impose in the nearest future!"

From the window, Charles asked. "Don't you ever tire of this repetitive squabbling?"

He was completely ignored. "Take off the eye patch." Alexander ordered. Charles could already hear the anger in his voice. He turned and prepared himself, ready to interfere should the situation become violent, which never happened.

Brand hesitated and stepped back. "It is simply a whimsical display."

"Take. It. Off!"

After a sigh, he did. Alexander walked down from the throne and held onto his brother's face in examination. Moments like such, Charles is again reminded of the love the brothers share, which has over time defiled their age difference, the cruel circumstances surrounding their births and even the power that they wielded.

He watched Alexander examine Brand, the concern on his face evident. Turning the young Prince's face from side to side, searched and searched again. Brand had been lost once to Alexander when he was taken from the ship he had joined as a crewmember by pirates. Locked away from society and forgotten for four years had left him with demons and scars, physically and mentally. Losing his left eye to the escape plan did little to help Alexander's guilt when he was found. He was broken, wounded and scared that Alexander promised to never again let him far from sight. But what could be done when the young Prince still preferred the high seas over the comfort of a warm Castle?