A stage for the crown prince

"Dei, wake up."

Shafts of bright sunlight hit Deithi's eyelids when his mother threw open the thick curtains in his room.

"Today is the day we get your magical aptitude tested. I hope you're excited as I am. You know, your father was a very capable mage." Two years since her husband's untimely death, Celia had more or less gotten over the pain of losing him.

"I am," Deithi replied like a dutiful son. On this same day in his first life, the young child had discovered the meaning of rejection. His aptitude for magic was a step above the non magical. Such a disappointing result was unheard of in the royal family where power and gold were the true monarchs.

"You don't sound excited at all," his mother responded. Since his rebirth a week ago, Deithi had changed. The heartbroken man that had died, and the young six year old that he was - they were both replaced by the Deithi that lived and breathed to avenge all his three selves.

"Are you excited, mother?" The boy asked as he pulled back his covers and began to meticulously fold them, an old habit he had picked up after falling into hard times. There had been no money to feed himself, let alone pay servants to clean up after him.

"Of course, I am, Dei. I just don't understand why you aren't." Princess Celia's excitement had been dampened by her son's lack of enthusiasm for the big event.

____

"Look, Dei, your cousins have already arrived."

Princess Celia was the third child of the previous monarch who had sired seven children. The eldest son was now the current ruler, and his firstborn son was the crown prince of the kingdom. In the pecking order of royalty, Deithi, alongside his other young cousins, had no power to speak of. All of these noble children on the lower rungs of the royal ladder were eager to have their magical aptitudes tested because it was the only way for them to step up and join the ones who truly mattered to the King.

"Mm," the child hummed in response. He wasn't in the mood to humour his mother's idle chatter.

Holding his chubby hand in hers, princess Celia began heading towards her sisters who were in attendance with their husbands and children. Deithi glanced up at his mother's face to gauge her feelings on the matter. Having been widowed so early, the princess was respected less than her sisters who didn't included her in their inner circle. Such was the way of palace life.

"Hello, Aurelia," Celia greeted her older sister.

The first princess, Aurelia, had two sons and a daughter. They were all older than Deithi and every time they met him, they rubbed it in his face that he was a fatherless nobody.

"Oh, it's you," Aurelia said to her younger sister. "Celia and," there was a pause as she looked down at Deithi. "What was his name again?"

Deithi had grown numb to the meaningless jabs of his hateful relatives. Words couldn't hurt him if they didn't manifest into action.

"Deithi, his name is Deithi," Celia replied. She had a serene smile on her face but the grip she had on his hand told a different story.

"Ah, yes," his aunt said with disinterest. The widowed sister and the fatherless child had nothing to offer to her. Aurelia turned away and smiled at the newly arrived fourth princess, the youngest of the seven siblings.

It was obvious to Deithi that he and his mother were outcasts. He hadn't noticed the signs when he had been a child but now it was all clear to his adult self. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Deithi began to wonder about his mother's suspicious death.

"Dei, would you like to talk to your cousins? Arabella shared her plate of sweets with you, didn't she?" Celia asked the serious looking boy. Ever since his sickness, Deithi had become less child like, less innocent, naive. She wished for her son to have friends his age amongst his relatives. The palace was a treacherous trap and the princess didn't want Deithi to end up isolated and cast off like she had been.

"Mother, why do you foolishly keep seeking them out when you already know how much they dislike us?"

Celia was shocked by her young son's words. Even worse, she didn't have an answer for him. All she wanted was to feel like they too were a part of the family. The Princess was relieved from her discomfort by the sight of the Grand royal carriage. The Queen had arrived with their three children.

The carriage came to a stop where a carpet was laid out for the royal family. Its doors were opened by a man liveried in the royal colours. The first to step out from the carriage was the crown prince Eadric. The precocious child was already showing signs of having great power though he was only six years old and yet to get his aptitude tested.

"Crown Prince!"

"Big brother!"

The happy and respectful calls of welcome from the other children were a stark contrast to the welcome that Celia and Deithi had received.

"Big brother, I can't wait to see how powerful you are!"

"Hush, Eva, come back here."

"Crown Prince, you look more and more like your father, his majesty, every time I see you. You'll make a fine King one day."

And it was true. Eadric had the classic blonde-haired, blue-eyed, strong features that ran thick in the children of royal blood. He looked more like Celia than Deithi himself did.

"Her majesty, the Queen!"

Everyone gathered there bowed to the queen when she stepped out of the carriage with her daughters. The queen, named Letitia, was a princess from a neighbouring allied kingdom. She wasn't as beautiful as her husband's sisters but most women weren't.

"Rise," she told the gathering. Her voice was neither loud nor soft. "We have all gathered here today for the same reason so dispense with the formalities and let us tarry no longer."

"Mother," Deithi whispered. "Why isn't the King joining us?"

"He has very important duties, Dei," she whispered back. "A king does not have the luxury to choose which days he gets to spend time with his family."

The child scoffed. King Lear had caught a venereal disease from whoring around with a few exotic beauties that had come as part of the tribute sent by an annexed kingdom. The venerable royal couldn't possibly show his face to the public when it was marked by weeping pus-filled blisters. Deithi knew this because he had overheard the physician sharing information with his assistant when they were both attending to him the day he was reborn.

"Come, everyone. The Grand Magus is here!"

____

The entire crowd gasped in delighted surprise when the second daughter of the Queen coaxed five flowers to bloom from the tree of hope. Her aptitude was hardly amazing, average even, but that was how it went with being the favoured daughter of a king. All she had to do was fart in the general direction of the courtiers and they would start singing her praises.

Deithi silently watched his relatives go one by one and touch the tree of hope. This wasn't an aptitude test, it was a stage for the crown prince to show off his superiority. The King had forbidden any of his siblings from having their children tested because he wanted them all together at the time when his son would be ready to join them.

Deithi could upset the stage by beating or even matching Eadric's power but he wasn't an idiot. Attracting that sort of attention would have his head separated from his body before the sun went down.

"Deithi, are you nervous?" His mother asked him when she saw that his turn was coming up soon.

"No," he replied. The six-year-old him had been eager and terrified in equal parts when this had happened. But when his aptitude was revealed, the heart breaking disappointment, his mother's sad smile, the whispers and scornful laughter - a young Deithi had thought his life couldn't get any worse but he had been wrong.