The Crown Of Tears

Prince Angelus had just weakened. An hour later than usual; he rung the bell three times, and no one responded.

His famous temper began to stretch and yawn. At this hour, Prince Angelus was accustomed to being washed with tepid water, scented daintily with lavender, talcum powdered, and finally fresh-linened coifed and manicured.

To be supported with a heap of fresh pillows and blankets. With his attendants feeding him creamed warm bread and tea.

Prince Angelus rang again, a line between his eyebrows. The bell wasn't broken. He could hear it distinctly. It was an outrage.

He flung the covers and got out on his bare feet. Prince Angelus stretched his slim arms above his head. His spoiled mouth formed a scarlet O as he yawned.

In his grey night wear, with his hair unkept all over his shoulders, he was a morning mess. Angelus saw himself in the mirror, and two lines formed in between his eyebrows.

The outward and visible token of the rage boiling in his blood. Angelus found his slippers. They were cold from the chilly breeze on the previous night. To Angelus's wrath was added indignation.

He raced to the fireplace to warm his hands. To his surprise, Aila hadn't attended to the fire, and it died out. The fireplace was colder than he was.

Prince Angelus's temper was fully awake by this time. He rose shivering from the cold, and the servants were nowhere to be seen. Angelus flung a brown rob on to keep from the cold, twisted his hair on top of his head, and stuck a bland band to hold it in place.

Flinging his door open, he stalked the halls for Captain Davon and his guards. The halls were clear with no sign of a human being. Prince Angelus massaged his temples to wade off a headache.

He was in a bad mood, and on top of that, he had to endure the incompetence of his staff. He slammed the door shut and retreated to his bed. He sat in a rocking chair and took a book to read.

Time went by, and Angelus got lost in the adventures of the book. The captivating pages kept his mind from the cold and the hunger.

He resisted the urge to step out of his chambers. Prince Angelus hated to entertain the idea of seeing his mother and sisters.

Gael's engagement to his sister, Rose, was set. Only a span of a day stood between them and that moment, and Angelus dreaded it. It was the cruellest punishment, yet he didn't have the strength to watch the man he loves get engaged to his sister.

Prince Angelus marked the page he was at on the book and set it on the table. He walked over to his liquor cabinet and picked up a bottle of champagne. It was unhealthy to exist on alcohol without having a single morsel of food. However, he didn't care.

He swore to continue drinking from where he left off the previous day. He opened the expensive bottle of champagne and took a big gulp of its content.

The bitter burning feeling in his throat awakened a moan from his lips. He downed the champagne without holding back. He fled to the fantasies in his head. A scene of him running around with Gael in a garden of hyacinth plants.

On other occasions, the place in his head was his comfortable place. With the recent development in his life, it felt like a nightmare, for he knew that he could never have that moment with Gael. He'd have to stomach watching romantic moments between him and his sister.

Angelus hurled the bottle across the room. It hit the wall and shattered to the ground with a thud. Tears pooled at the bottom of his bloodshot eyes.

He picked up an empty sheet and a piece of black chalk. Prince Angelus moved the chalk on the sheet, letting his imagination take over as he painted the image in his head.

Forty-five minutes passed by as he sketched. His fingers roughly put down the picture that haunted his mind. His thoughts ran in a circle around his vision.

The chalk broke. Angelus paused. He started down at the portrait staring back at him, his fingers folded into fists. He had sketched a perfect picture of him as King and Gael standing next to him.

"Yes, I wish to marry the princess, " Gael's consent echoed in his head.

Prince Angelus angrily tore the sheet to pieces. He lifted the wooden rocking chair off the ground and threw it away. Angelus fell on the cold floor and sobbed.

All he gave was gone, tumbled like it was stone. He thought he couldn't shake and was strong enough to have it all, but he was proven wrong. His enemies not only shook, but they broke him to pieces.

Trust that his mother betrayed. One which Angelus doubted she cared to atone for. His mother was the queen of Sevigoria. The status came first before all else, including his children.

The wheels in his head turn with numerous ways to create chaos in the palace. Prince Angelus refused to be the only one hurting; the people who broke his heart and dreams and took his peace of mind deserved worse than death.

Who got caught in the crossfire meant no difference to him. He ceased to weep and sat quietly while staring at a single point on the wall. His mind devised plans to counter the hits he took.

The person at the top of his list was his stepsister, Elveryne. His father's bastard daughter crossed the line by taking a shot at him, a decision Angelus swore to make her regret, by every means necessary.

Prince Angelus rose from the ground. He sauntered over to his bathing house. The pool was filled with cold water. He stared at the empty room, another line adding to his furrowed eyebrows.

Without hesitation, he stripped out of his clothes and dipped his body into the cold water. He gritted his teeth and endured the cold water hitting his skin.

"I'm going to kill those three! " he barked. His mind racing to Jesper, Faber, and Aila. They neglected their duties and added to his bad day.

He took a cold bath and dressed himself. He dressed in midnight black from head to toe. The black colour symbolizes him mourning the love he's lost. Angelus fastened the cuffs of his shirt slowly.

Prince Angelus stepped out of his room to meet his little sister pacing by the door. "Brother! " she gasped.

"Runa, to what do I owe the honour? " he inquired coldly.

"Happy birthday, brother, " Princess Runa presensented a bouquet of purple roses to him. Prince Angelus froze. It skipped his mind what day it was because of everything that was going on. "I wish you many happy returns as you turn a year older, " Runa expressed sweetly.

Prince Angelus broke his daze and accepted the flowers. Purple roses were a symbol of royalty. A colour that embodies enchantment, splendor, and wonder. One of his favourite flowers, Angelus's mood, lifted a little bit.

"Thank you, little one, " he bent down and gave his sixteen year old sister a kiss on her forehead. "Where's everyone gone?" he asked.

"The palace is busy preparing for sister Rose's engagement. Mother said you'd sleep in today, and no one should disturb you, " Princess Runa reported.

Prince Angelus's fingers tightened against the flowers. His cruel mother had a way of portraying herself as a good mother after making him miserable. Her cruelty knew no bounds. It enraged Angelus to the core.

"I had no clue Rose was in love with Lord Vondrak. I was a bit surprised, but after seeing them together at the rehearsal, I find they look perfect together, " Princess Runa voiced out.

Unaware every word she uttered was like sharp shards striking at her brother's heart. Prince Angelus closed his eyes and breathed in heavily. He was broken and in pieces.