"Come out already, Ramsey!" Gerad's voice was muffled through the thick door, but there was no response. He pounded lightly on the wood again, this time with a wooden sword in hand, its edges blunt and harmless, Gerad was eager to spar with his older brother, but the door remained closed, and it was only silence that stretched on. He sighed.
"I've been waiting for ages! When will we spar like you promised?" Gerad's words echoed through the hall, but still no answer. The youngest prince was used to Ramsey's mood swings, but today felt different, he hadn't seen his brother at all.
A sudden sound from the large, imposing door to the throne room caught Gerad's attention. King William was in a meeting, and from the muffled voices beyond the door, he could tell the discussion was heated. Gerad's curiosity got the better of him, and he slowly stepped closer to the door, trying not to make even the faintest of noises, pressing his ear against the door.
He could barely make out some of the words. Names, plans, and a conversation that made his stomach twist. One Lord's voice rose above the others, and Gerad caught the phrase, "You must lead the next battle, Your Grace."
Before he could hear more, the door creaked open, and Gerad quickly scrambled back, knocking one of the wooden swords to the ground with a loud clank. He froze in place, hoping to blend into the shadows.
King William stepped out, his expression stoic, a stern look plastered on his face. His eyes immediately landed on the dropped sword. "You're terrible at hiding, Gerad," he said with a half-smile, but his voice remained sharp.
Gerad's face turned red as he stood up, rubbing the back of his neck, admitting guilt. "Uh, well... I was just... you know, waiting for Ramsey to come out."
William looked at the sword in his hand, then at Gerad, and let out a sigh. "It's not like him to hide away for this long. You want to spar?"
Gerad's face lit up, his earlier embarrassment forgotten. "Yes!" he exclaimed, already bouncing on his feet. Despite his usual nervousness, he was eager to spend time with his brother. Even though Gerad wasn't even close to as skilled as William, their sparring sessions were bonding time, between himself and his busy brother.
The two of them headed out to the training ground, located in the front yard of the palace. The wind was light, It was a sunny day, and the sound of steel against wood filled the space as the royal guards watched with mild interest. William stood tall, his stance commanding, Gerad, clutching his wooden sword, tried to mimic him, though it was clear he wasn't anywhere near as confident or experienced.
William turned to him with a seriousness that made Gerad pause. "If you point a blade at an enemy, you must be willing to die for it, Gerad. Do not forget that," William said, his eyes narrowing as he sized up his younger brother.
Gerad's heart raced. He had sparred with William before, but today, William was much more serious. Then, before he could respond, William moved.
He leaped forward in an instant, that quickness left Gerad stunned. The King's body soared through the air, he was so high that he could even behead a knight on a horse.
Gerad's hands trembled as he barely raised his sword in defense. Before he could even process what had happened, William's sword tapped against his shoulder. The fight was over before it had truly begun.
"I-I surrender!" Gerad said quickly, stepping back, a mix of awe and frustration flooding him. William smiled.
"A king must be menacing in battle, Gerad," William said, his voice firm but also kind. "When you face your enemy, no matter how strong they are, you should never Yield".
Gerad nodded, Understanding his brother's words, though they felt like a burden. How could he, a prince who was still so young, carry such a responsibility?
As they walked back to the castle, William turned to Gerad. "Has Ramsey come out of his room yet?" he asked.
Gerad shook his head. "No, he's been in there all day. I don't think he's coming out anytime soon."
William sighed deeply, glancing toward the doors leading to the royal wing. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "Then I'll go check on him."
"Ramsey won't open the door for anyone, not even his brothers".
"Then he will for his king", William said, turning back and smiling at Gerad.
William turned to his squire, a young man who had been quietly watching them. "On the orders of His Grace, William II, Prince Ramsey, son of Benjamin, must open the door at this instant,".
His squire knocked on the door to Ramsey's room. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing Ramsey standing inside, his hands bloodied from the rough wood of his bow. His face was a mask of frustration and exhaustion.
William stepped into the room without waiting for an invitation. "Clear the way, Ramsey," he said coolly.
Ramsey's eyes flashed with a mixture of resentment and anger. "Why are you here." His voice was tight like it pained him to even speak to his brother.
The room felt smaller with both of them inside, the tension between them filled the air.
"I have to go to the battlefield. Soon."
Ramsey froze, his mind racing. "What are you talking about?" he asked, the words tumbling from his mouth without thought.
For a moment, William was silent, his face pale as he wiped a hand over his brow. "I'm scared," he said, his voice shaking. "I'm scared to die. I'm not ready for this, not ready to lead men into war and kill those who have families of their own."
The words hit Ramsey harder than he expected. He had never seen his brother so emotional. For all the walls William had built around himself, for all the calmness and control he exuded as king, this moment shattered that image. He was just a boy, no different from Ramsey.
Ramsey's anger softened, replaced with a deep, unexpected empathy. "You know, Father said... before he left for the sea, he told us to look after each other. He said the next time we saw him, we should both have battles of our own, together."
William's eyes glistened with tears, but he quickly wiped them away. "I remember." His voice was choked. "But I've never taken a life before. How am I supposed to lead men into war knowing that?"
Ramsey stepped closer, his words calm, steady. "I'll go there with you, William. We'll do it together like Father wanted.
William looked at him, his expression a mixture of relief and sorrow. "I hope you're right, Ramsey," he whispered.
And in that moment, for the first time in years, Ramsey felt like a part of something larger than his frustrations. Together, they could carry the weight of the crown after all.