Elliot's POV

　　The acrid stench of defeat seeps into my nostrils, a pungent reminder of the chaos that has just unfolded within these once-regal walls. My brother's eyes, those pits of despair and malice, stare vacantly at the mosaic floor, his crown- a twisted metal carcass- lying discarded beside him. I stand over Nathan, feeling the weight of decades of his tyranny like chains around my own ankles.

　　"Elliot," he rasps, his voice a ghost of its former command. ...