Acheron and Ryssa were lucky. Their father didn't view them as an extension of himself. Whenever they did something wrong, the king didn't consider it an affront to his good name. They were tutored together and at a much more leisurely pace by the women in Ryssa's retinue. Sometimes Styxx could hear them laughing through the walls while his tutors mercilessly drilled him.
But at least Praxis wasn't overly harsh. He was far more patient and understanding than the others.
You are still a young boy, Highness. I know it's hard for you to sit for hours on end and focus. Let's take a brief break and let your lessons sink in before we start the next session.
Sometimes he'd even bring sweets for Styxx to snack on while they worked.
As Styxx neared the stairs, he saw his mother waiting in the shadows. An older version of Ryssa, she had been a celebrated beauty in her youth. But too many years of overindulging alcohol had aged her beauty so that she now appeared older than their father.
For a moment, he thought she might be sober. But as he drew closer, the stench of excess stole his breath.
"Which bastard are you?" she sneered.
"Styxx, Mother."
Angrily, she narrowed her gaze as if she didn't quite believe him. "Where's the other one?"
"With Ryssa."
A smile finally curled her lips. "My precious Ryssa ... she was supposed to come visit with me this morning." She started for the staircase then stumbled. Styxx moved to help her. At first, she recoiled from his touch, but after a moment she relaxed and allowed him to give her his shoulder so that she could climb the stairs without falling and hurting herself.
"Who came just now?" she asked as they walked down the hall, toward her chambers.
"Uncle Estes."
"Good. That'll make the old skatophage happy for a while."
Styxx didn't comment, but he was glad his father wasn't around to hear his wife call him a dung-eater. No doubt it would upset him greatly.
He led her into her room and deposited her on her dressing stool. As he started away, she reached out and grabbed him by the hair then yanked him closer to her.
"Please, Mother. You're hurting me." He tried to pull her hand away, but she held him fast and with the strength of all the Furies.
She snorted derisively. "You don't know what pain is. Try birthing an ungrateful bastard from your loins, followed by another of his kind. Then watch as your husband's love turns to hatred for you because of them. That's pain. But you ... you're the precious, beloved heir he adores. You're all he loves now."
Funny, it didn't feel that way to him. Not while his father censored everything he did. For every bit of praise he received, his father made sure to give at least three criticisms to accompany it.
She gentled her grip in his hair, but didn't let go. "You have hair like your father. I used to love to run my hands through it at night. Back then, he was mine alone and he loved me so. He would have done anything for me.... At night, he couldn't wait to bed me." Tears filled her eyes. "Why did you have to be born?" Sobbing, she pulled his hair then slapped him. "Get out of my sight! You disgust me!"
Styxx ran from the room as fast as he could. His cheek burned from her blow, but he knew better than to leave his mother alone like this. His father would be very angry should he learn that Styxx had abandoned her when it was obvious she needed someone to watch over her. Wiping at his tears, he went to the small antechamber where her maids were gathered to sew and gossip.
"What are you doing here?" the eldest maid snapped as soon as she saw him in the doorway. "I was told by Her Majesty that you were not allowed in this part of the palace. She has no desire to see you."
He disregarded her venom. "The queen is in her room and summons you."
She brushed rudely past him without a word. The others stared at him as if he were the filth that sullied their shoes. They were forever looking at him like that whenever he was without his father and he hated it. Most of all, he hated how it made him feel like he was the filth on their shoes.
Lifting his chin, he glared back at each one in turn. "I am your prince and heir. You are not to meet my gaze without my permission," he reminded them. "Or I should have you whipped for it." He slammed the door and turned to find Ryssa in the hall behind him.
She raked him with a look that made him feel even lower than the maids had. "You wretched little tyrant. You think you're so much better than everyone else. You're not, you know. You're just a spoiled little pig who's nothing without his father. I hope one day you get exactly what you deserve."
The sincerity of her gaze and cruelty of words shredded his heart. Why could she not, just once, say something kind to him? What had he ever done to her? Nothing, and he was tired of her insults. "Shut up, kuna! I hate you! I wish you were dead and burned!"
Ryssa grabbed his arm and shook him. "How dare you talk to me like that and use such a filthy word!"
"Styxx!"
He cringed at his father's furious tone. Knowing what would follow, he pried her harsh, bruising grip from his arm and walked past Ryssa to the top of the stairs so that he could see his father below, standing beside Estes.
Fabulous. Now his father would show off for his younger brother.
"Come here, boy!"
His heart pounding in fear he didn't dare let show, Styxx descended the stairs. "Yes, Father?"
"What have I told you about respecting your sister?"
She is the sole princess of this realm. As such, she is to be treasured above all....
It was so unfair. If he were Ryssa, he'd be able to whine and tell his father what had happened. But he knew from experience that it would only make this worse. Men did not complain, and most especially not kings. They took the repercussions for their actions and held their heads high no matter what.
Still, he wasn't king. Not yet. And he definitely wasn't a man. "She started it, Father."
He grabbed his arm in the same place Ryssa had twisted it, causing Styxx to grimace. "How dare you! You do not disrespect your father and you damn sure do not disrespect your king," he snarled. "Ever!"
His father yanked his arm and hauled him toward the guard room until they reached the Royal Scold's station. The scold came to his feet immediately and bowed low.
His father flung him at the tall, beefy man Styxx hated with every part of himself.
"Twenty lashes, and ten more if he whimpers or cries."
The scold nodded respectfully. "Am I to be given immunity, Majesty?"
"Aye, of course."