“Brother, I have a favor to ask.”
As I addressed him, my brother’s ice-blue eyes widened in shock.
He stood in front of a bookcase, which was so large that it dominated the entire west-facing wall of the room. The other walls and the ceiling were adorned with intricate engravings, all done in Renaissance style.
My brother’s features mirrored mine in several ways; his silky, platinum blond hair fell to his collar, and his skin was unblemished alabaster. His eyes were slightly upturned, embellished by long eyelashes, and framed by imposing eyebrows. His facial structure was in accordance with the golden ratio, and this symmetry made his face look as if a master craftsman had sculpted it.
He was slim, as was typical of early adolescent boys, and he wore a justaucorps, a gilet, and culottes, all in blue to match his eyes. His fine clothes were finished off with a detailed pattern of intertwined flowers and ivy, done in silver thread. A topaz brooch fastened a cravat to his collar, and he held a book in his hands, which were both adorned with white gloves.
Every inch of him, down to the smallest detail, just screamed prince. And he was. This boy was my brother, the first prince Christoph von Velfalt.
He stood in shocked silence for a moment, blinking his long eyelashes so heavily that they almost made a sound. His stare was intent but contained a clear look of surprise—a rare departure from his usual disinterested expression. He finally closed the thick book in his hands and placed it on the shelf, then walked over to me, stopping just shy of two meters away.
“It’s unlike you to come and see me of your own accord.”
His phrasing might have sounded insulting, but a peek at his expression revealed that he meant no offense. Truthfully, it was rare for me to approach him. In my defense though, I wasn’t avoiding him because I disliked him.
The problem was that Christoph, or Chris for short, was only my half brother. I had a full brother also, the second prince, named Johan. He and I were half-siblings to Chris, and we only shared our father’s bloodline with him. Chris was the son of the king’s last wife, who never fully recovered from childbirth and passed away years ago. Johan and I were the children of the king’s new wife.
My mother, the current queen, despised Chris. Whenever she thought of the old queen, my mother would fall into fits of jealousy. Chris could never escape her ire because he was a living, breathing reminder of his mother. Needless to say, our mother took great pains to ensure that Johan and I, her natural children, stayed away from Chris as much as possible.
You can act however you want, mother, but forcing your feelings onto your kids is a bit much in my opinion.
Even with all of this supposed passion, our mother only had eyes and a heart for the king. She was barely aware of Johan and me, so it was frustrating that she controlled our interactions with Chris. Why was this the only thing she chose to poke her nose into?
“Won’t your mother scold you again for talking to me?” asked Chris.
“I don’t mind.”
“But...”
“I’m five years old now,” I said adamantly. “I’m old enough to take responsibility for my own actions.”
“Rose,” he started, seeming dumbstruck as he called me by my nickname.
What a wonderful person he is, I thought. He could have shown contempt for me as the daughter of the woman who mistreated him, but he never did. Far from it, he showed consideration instead.
Are you taking notes, Johan? You could learn a thing or two from your older brother.
“I see.” Chris stared at me in silence for a moment, then his face mellowed. He said little, but his eyes harbored a gentle look, like a grandfather gazing upon a grandchild who had grown up.
You carry quite the presence for an eight-year-old, brother.
“So, what’s the favor?” Chris asked, bringing the conversation back to the main point without prying any further.
“The truth is, it’s about Johan...” My words trailed off.
“Johan? What’s the matter with him?”
Oh brother, I thought. You got all day?
Out loud, I said, “I’d like you to find strict, smart teachers for Johan.”
At this request, Chris fell silent.
Our youngest brother, Johan von Velfalt, was the second prince of the Kingdom of Nevel, one of Hidden World’s main characters, and, to top it all off, a bona fide siscon.
In the game, the only person he truly loved was his older sister, Rosemary. She was also the only person he trusted with all of his heart. If she said yes, so did he; if she said no, then no it was. If she pointed to a dark-black crow and called it white, he would swear it was white in a heartbeat. His feelings of love towards his sister were obsessive, to say the least.
But it wasn’t really his fault. Why did he turn out that way? The answer lay entirely in his upbringing.
As our father busied himself with matters of state, he paid no attention to his family. Our mother was, as I explained before, only interested in the king, except for small incursions where she would stifle her children’s actions. The lack of attention from his parents left Johan feeling trapped, as if he lived in a tiny bubble.
The maids assumed from his outward similarity to our proud, high-strung mother that he would take after her in temperament as well, so they kept him at arm’s length, afraid to poke that hornet’s nest.
Additionally, every teacher assigned to him owed their status to his mother, so they let him do as he pleased, probably fearing social and political retribution from the queen if they dared to discipline him.
Amid all of that isolation, only his sister Rosemary dealt with him head-on.
So yeah, it makes perfect sense that he’d start to depend on her.
When playing Hidden World in my previous life, I was more ambivalent about Johan’s problems. Of course, that mindset was only available to me because he had been Rosemary’s problem, not mine. But now that I occupied Rosemary’s life, the realization had dawned: There’s such a thing as too much brotherly love.
At this point in my current life, my little brother was only four years old and at peak cuteness. He would follow me wherever I went. There was no question that I found him adorable, plodding along behind me like a baby chick. Recently however, his behavior had started to get a little weird. He would often burst into tears whenever I left him, and his jealous disdain towards anyone who approached me was becoming less cute.