Raymond knelt before his father’s throne.
“You may stand,” the king graciously allowed. Raymond disliked this formality, but played his grudging part because this was one of the many formalities on which the ruling Castells insisted.
“You called for me, your majesty?” the prince answered. The mocking edge of his voice persisted although he parents had long since begun to ignore it.
“The public memorial in honor of your uncle is approaching.”
“I am aware.”
“You must remember to publicly pledge to avenge his death.” Raymond’s jaw must have dropped, but he would not have known–his entire face had gone numb at the suggestion. He quickly regained his wits.
“What an honor. We all wish get back at God for the way he has treated us.”
“Please forget your jests,” the queen interceded.
“Your uncle was murdered,” the king chided. “Must you act like this?” Raymond’s defiance flared.
“All that murdered your uncle was old age and his love for wine.”
“You know who slaughtered him yet you refused to accept it. Do not turn your back on us. Do not refuse to face the traitor who walks between our walls.”
Cornered by responsibility, Raymond parroted his father’s orders reluctantly.
“I will avenge the death of Prince Henry Castell and kill the traitor who walks between our walls.”
Nihilistic Porcupine 