When the crowned Prince to be entered his quarters he let his emotions go, he could only see red. Henry was smashing and tearing blankets and curtains. Anything that tied him to this accursed life.
He didn't get much time with his mother, in fact he barely remembered her. She was snatched away before she could teach him anything, he craved for that.
Since his other parent wasn't giving him anything, it was driving him to the edge. He was sure he was on the verge of insanity. At that moment, he didn't care.
Mostly because the King didn't really care about what he did, as long as the people who will serve him one day didn't see. Those within the royal palace would never dare to gossip about troubles they saw inside the walls.
"Why was I even born here, why couldn't I have been a peasant!" He screamed through gritted teeth, smashing the vase that once belonged to his mother.
