I

~Manuel~

My quill was scratching over the parchment that laid in front of me when the sound of a loud bang from somewhere downstairs made me jump up. I tried to concentrate on what I was working on, but not even two breaths later the noise came back. This time even louder.

I put away my quill and stood up, sprinted down the spiral staircase, and opened the heavy wooden door that led to a long passage. The light only came in through high, very small openings in the tall narrow wall, so it was bitterly cold and gloomy in this room.

The anger burned hot inside me so I did not feel it. Besides that, I cannot remember a single day when no snow covered the frozen ground around the fortress. I was used to all of it.

My steps went faster as I approached the source of the noise. And my anger increased as I heard not only the banging sounds but also happy, cheerful voices talking to one another.

Surprisingly it was neither an ambassador nor soldiers I saw but a few restorers surrounding the pillar that was missing a few tiles as long as I could remember.

Why were they repairing it now when I wanted to study? They had absolutely no right to do so. I was the prince so anyone had to obey me no matter what.

"What do you think you are doing?" I snapped. They turned around quick enough for me to see their annoyed faces which made me even more furious.

"We're sorry your highness, the king commanded us to repair the pillar before tomorrow evening" One of them replied. "Then why" I could hardly repress my anger "are you doing it now? I am studying and nobody is allowed to interrupt me." The man bowed slightly and tried his best to look apologetic but not a single person has ever been able to fool me. He did not respect me, he even thought I was a kind of joke. Just because I would never be king, which is only the fault of my three older brothers, does not mean I had no power. I looked coolly at him, concentrated a bit, and let the water in his eyes freeze. He screamed in pain and pressed his hands on his eyes, which he could not close anymore. Slowly he fell onto his knees whimpering and begging me to undo it.

The right corner of my mouth twitched into a little sadistic smirk. For a moment I enjoyed this scene of total subjection then I let go of the tiny connection a had with his tears. He fell to the ground, breathing heavily.

"Anybody else who wants to disrespect me?" I asked perishingly and recognized the fearful looks on their faces when they bowed low with deep satisfaction.

I turned away, put on a neutral face as I was told, and walked away stiffly trying to find someone to get answers. I crossed the throne room, making my way meandering through the pillars, that towered parallel to the high walls and made the hall look like a creepy citadel.

Unfortunately, I did not find anyone who could possibly know anything about why these impudent workers interrupted my studies, so I returned to my room.

Later this day I should find out what all of this was about. My foster mother sent me a short message explaining what is going to happen the day after tomorrow. When I first read what she wrote I couldn't believe my eyes and was furious about the thought that she dared to lie to me. But when I thought about it I knew that she was too terrified of me that she would even consider making fun of me. I looked down at the note again and reflected on what I had seen down in the throne room. Of cause, my parents would never demand repairs if it wasn't serious. They would always leave the fortress to go to their residence they use when it's so bitterly cold in this area that not even pure winters like them can enjoy life here. As if (I laughed dryly at this thought) anyone could enjoy life in here.

And as if (I laughed again) my parents would even care about it. No, they never cared about anyone except themselves. Not about my brothers, and especially not about me, their last child, the puny child, the unwanted child. And I have known for many years that this will never change. I was honestly pretty surprised they even raised me. Well, actually let me raise but at least they hadn't killed me when I was a child.

The only thing I have ever learned from them is one single sentence: Never show them what you feel. Never. Show. Your. Emotions.

When I cried as a child I was punished. When I cried throughout my punishment, I was punished even harder. So, I just… kind of lost my emotions. True, deep emotions like pleasure not talking about happiness have vanished from my life a long time ago. And all that was left was self-hatred, arrogance, and restlessness.

I shook my head and rubbed my tired eyes which hurt from the dim light in here. Ignoring the tumult down in the throne room I continued writing my notes. The quill again scratched over the parchment, one of the most beautiful sounds in the world for me. Not that this was hard because there are not many pleasant things in here to choose from.

Nevertheless, I had a few activities I enjoyed. One of them was right in front of my nose, the other was in the drawer of my desk. I pulled out a plain scroll of parchment and smoothed it out.

I quickly wrote the words "How about meeting tomorrow at noon? Same place as always?"

While the words vanished warmly under my fingers I curled up the scroll and saw a cursive written note back saying "Of course, I would love to"

I smiled slightly and felt a tingly warmth in my stomach. Maybe I had some emotions, after all, I thought and put the scroll back in the drawer.