Xior covered his ears as he hid inside your closet. His father was yelling at you again. He was always yelling, at you, at Xior, at nothing in particular. The servants whispered he was going mad, and then those whispers fell silent when those servants made into examples. His father loved examples.

Sometimes Xior liked pretending Andil wasn’t his true father. His true father was someone warm and kind, and one day he would come and reveal himself to Xior, ready to take him far away. Xior would, of course, ask to take you with him. He couldn’t leave you with Father.

You were his only friend, after all.

Something shattered, a plate or a vase, he couldn’t be certain. Xior pressed his face to his knees. One breath, then another. He couldn’t cry too loud, it’d give his hiding spot away. Xior was sure Andil didn’t know this is where he went when he ran off. Later, when Xior’s stomach hurt too much to keep hiding, he knew he’d get in trouble. Xior just couldn’t stand the fighting.

Since Andil had announced Xior heir over you, his older sibling, there had been so much screaming. The kingdom had disagreed with Andil. The sickly younger prince over his firstborn? A boy of a mere seven winters? It made no sense. Andil had quelled the infighting with blood. Xior could smell it on him when he’d come back, passing by Xior in the halls as though he was a ghost. Xior would sometimes close his eyes and hold his breath so Andil wouldn’t notice him.

He’d rather his father never speak to him again.

The silence was so sudden it made his heart quicken. Were you alright? He couldn’t make out the words being exchanged. Xior never cared to hear what was said. The moment someone raised their voice he darted off to the cramped closet in the corner of your chamber’s. It was the safest place he knew; the only place that remained untouched by Andil’s hands. He was a poison that ruined everything around him.

Xior promised himself to never be like Andil. One day he’d have children and he would never yell at them. He’d be kind. Xior wanted to be good.

The closet door creaked open. Xior slowly raised his head, eyes wide with fear until he saw it was you. “Are you alright?” he immediately asked, unshed tears blurring his vision.