Bynx rose from his bed with a throbbing headache that felt like someone hammering nails into his skull. The alcohol tasted scrumptious, but it wasn't worth more of his father's disappointment and bickering about his annoying sister. Ray'ven had everything. From frilly dresses, leather attire, golden hairpins, Sols, anything she wanted was handed to her on a silver platter. Whereas he had fought for everything he owned despite the status of a prince.
He lifted the heavy hilt of the dagger, allowing the weight to settle within his grasp before he aimed it towards the painting on the wall. The metal pierced the portraits, his sisters heart, hilt deep. "If father knew the truth about your sickly mother, then I wonder what he'd think about you. Would you be so noble then?"
