"I leave the fate of this nation to you, the least of my sons," the king muttered as he left Kairen in that great hall. "My father would spin in his grave to see his kingdom ruled over by a fop."

Those words were seared into Kairen's mind. The last thing his father said before abandoning him to a fate meant for an ambitious and prideful king. Though he never liked his father, those words hurt more than anything.

More than the shackles bolted onto his wrists as he was captured. More than the beating of a whip against his back whenever his restrained ankles faltered as he was hauled through the streets. More than the boos, insults, and debris thrown at him from the people he tried his best to defend. The weeks of starvation, the interrogations, the humiliation, the blame thrown at him, none of that compared to the final dismissive of his father.

The only thing greater than the pain of those words was the testimony slandering his character, placing the blame of the kingdom's fall on Kairen's lavish lifestyle, implying he plotted to have his brothers killed for his own gain. Maybe even more than that were the whispers of people claiming King Tolrend would return to save the people and restore honor to the kingdom.

The sentence to a lifetime spent in service as a slave to one of the rebels did not even register to what he had gone through.

He was numb by the time he got to those chambers. He was naked, save for golden jewelry adorning his body. There were tears in his eyes he refused to let fall, holding his hands behind his back and his head down in a silent gesture of submission and obedience, ready to serve whomever came to claim him.

He heard they were or were related to a strong warrior who helped the enemy advance to the top. Who wouldn’t want an ex-prince as a slave? Especially one as pathetic as Kairen. All he could do was just… wish his final moments came sooner than later. He had just turned eighteen, the peak of freedom and fun, and yet he was grieving the loss of three brothers and his freedom.