It had to be done. Rhian was dead, that was the truth, a truth that the rest of the endless woods didn't need to know. Even if they did, what would they do? They had replaced Tedros so easily, the rightful heir to Camelot with just a few polished lies, who says Japeth couldn't handle it on his own when it came down to it?

He pretended to be his brother, that much is true, that was the lie, that the snake had finally been killed and buried when in truth he was wearing a lion's mask.

He felt no remorse. Rhian was in his way. Rhian had betrayed him, allowed that stupid blond girl to get into his head, to get between them. Rhian was weak, but he wasn't.

He has cut his copper hair shorter, painted his skin amber tan, and magically dyed his eyes aqua-green from their true icy blue nature. Now he looked just like his brother. Just like that, countless had been fooled and the fate of the woods had been doomed.

He was walking down the hallways of the palace. He walked into the coldest part of the castle, lurking in the shadows, like a snake, for he may appear to be his twin and he may put on an act for the masses, but one cannot change what they are, and he was a snake. A cold-blooded snake that somehow sought out the cold instead of the cozy warmth. Perhaps it was a reflection of his soul. Perhaps it was the comfortable numbness that this cold brought with it that had him seek it out. Whatever it may be, it didn't make him any less intimidating and eerie.

The clothes stuck to him, showing off his muscular build, and quite frankly he saw it as unnecessary. His suit of scims was far more comfortable and flexible to his needs, but it's not like he could use those at this time of day. Besides, it is a royal courtesy for whatever reason. Noble women and men alike dress to impress. Either to show off their riches, or their good looks. He found that repulsive, yet he was wearing those same clothes. Hypocritical, or ironic, who cares? He had a goal to achieve and these pathetic little details won't stop him.