Page 82 of Reluctant Rebel

“Heavy?Heavy?” Mikhail repeated. “It’s fucking suffocating!” Emotions bubbled to the surface, spilling out from where they had been buried and festering for years. “Did you ever once stop and think what it was like for me to be born first? To have my destiny plotted and planned by others from the moment I drew my first breath? Did you ever once think I might have liked a choice? A choice about how my life was going to be lived? Of course, you didn’t. Because you took those choices for granted. You accepted what was demanded of me just like everybody else.”

Brax screwed his face up like all he could smell was minion shit. “What are you talking about? Are you saying you never wanted to be King?”

“I’m saying I wanted to be asked. I’m saying I wanted my feelings to be acknowledged. I’m saying it would have been nice not to have my autonomy taken away while I was still in the cradle,” Mikhail explained, feeling exhausted and trapped. “But that never happened. So, I followed the protocols, I obeyed the rules, I completed the lessons, and I became a king that Father could be proud of. I became a king thatPurgatorycould be proud of.”

He took a breath, looking around the ornate room where he ran his realm. And where he wouldsavehis realm. “Do you understand what that means? It means putting Purgatory first. It means putting mypeoplefirst. Even at the expense of the people I love. Even at the expense of my own inner peace. Because that’s what being a king is all about. I have to be completely selfless. And I know you don’t believe that,” Mikhail said quickly, not letting Brax get a word in.

“You believe it was selfish to do what I did and selfish to ask Sabre to be a part of my plan. It wasn’t. It was in the best interest of my people. And I’m done apologising for it. Even though I am sorrier than I can ever articulate. Even though it hurts me more than anything else I’ve ever experienced, I’mdoneapologising for it. I’m done feeling guilty. I’m done explaining myself.”

Mikhail strode to the door and flung it open. “I am King. I am a product of what our society has wrought. I will not be questioned further. You are dismissed.” When Brax didn’t move, he spoke icily, ignoring Draven and the few guards watching on in shock. “Did you hear me? If you can’t be a brother, you’ll be a subject. And subjects do what they are told. Get out.”

Brax walked over, but instead of leaving, he carefully shut the door, keeping his eyes on Mikhail. When they were alone, he cleared his throat. “I believe I owe you an apology.”

Mikhail wasn’t sure he wanted one. In fact, heknewhe didn’t. Not when it wouldn’t be sincere. “Forget it. I’m not interested.” He went to put some distance between them, but Brax grabbed his arm. “Abraxis …”

“Wait, Mikhail. Please,” Brax appealed, not letting go. “You’re right. You were born first, pre-destined to be King. It’s a burden I can never truly understand. Because it’s not mine. I may be a prince. I may have royal blood. But I don’t feel Purgatory in every part of me. But you do, don’t you? You feel it right down to your DNA.”

“Yes,” Mikhail rasped. “And nobody ever acknowledges it because nobodyknows.”

Brax squeezed Mikhail’s arm, finally letting go and taking a step back. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

“What difference would it have made? Would my fate have changed course had I said I would rather play chess with my brothers than learn a dozen different dialects so I cancommunicate with my future people?” He shook his now-pounding head. “It would have changed nothing. Besides …”

“Besides what?” Brax asked softly.

Mikhail opened his mouth, only to snap it closed. He’d said more than enough for one day.

“Come on. Don’t stop now,” Brax urged. “I think we really need this. Tell me.”

Brax had a point, he thought. Perhaps this is what theybothneeded to be able to move on. So, he lifted his head up and admitted, “I didn’t want to have to tell you. I wanted you to ask. I wanted you tothinkto ask. I wanted you tocareenough to ask.”

Brax flinched, his whole body jerking. He rubbed his chest with his hand, saying only, “Brother …”

“Don’t,” Mikhail spat. He backed up until his back met the wall. He felt like he was about to shake apart. “I don’t want your pity, and I don’t want regrets. That’s not what this was about. I don’t need or want you to feel sorry for me, Brax.”

Brax made no attempt to move closer but didn’t speak again until Mikhail looked at him. “Pity is not what I feel for you. Pride, love, awe … those are more accurate. But you’re going to have to take the regret because I am so sorry for never once thinking about how you felt about being King. I’m ashamed, Mikhail. And that’s the truth.”

Mikhail groaned, lowering himself to the floor. He banged the back of his head against the wall, once, twice, before a large hand slipped between it and the wood. “Let me have my concussion,” he argued.

Brax chuckled, lowering himself to the floor next to Mikhail. He stretched his legs out and rested his head against the wall gently. “I don’t think so. We need your head. It’s the only one screwed on right. We both know Z’s isn’t. And mine clearly hasn’t been.”

“It’s okay,” was all Mikhail could think to say.

“It’s really not,” Brax insisted.

Mikhail sighed. Brax’s body radiated heat like a furnace, and for some reason, he felt cold. When Brax suddenly shuffled closer until they were shoulder-to-shoulder and thigh-to-thigh, pulling Mikhail’s head down to rest on his shoulder, Mikhail very nearly cried. Braxdidsee him. “Thank you.”

“You were right,” Brax said, breaking the silence after a while. “We are not where we were before. And I think that’s a good thing. I was blissfully ignorant of your struggles. And though it hurts me to admit it, I never understood you. Not completely. And that’s because I didn’t bother to look.”

“You didn’tknowto look deeper,” Mikhail said in his defence. “I doubt many of our ancestors did either. It’s just the way it is.”

“Not anymore,” Brax declared. “That mindset is over. And you can bet your kingly butt that I’ll remind you of the fact when your children are born.” Brax shrugged his shoulder, dislodging Mikhail so he could look at him. “So, no. Our relationship isn’t the same. It’s better. From now on, it’s stronger and healthier than ever.”

Mikhail sniffed, averting his watery eyes. “Okay. I like strength and health.” And when Brax laughed, Mikhail joined him. “I don’t feel sorry for myself most of the time,” he promised when they had quieted. “We are who we are. And that’s okay. It’s just hard to remember when I know what I could have if I hadn’t been born first.”

“You’re referring to Jinx,” Brax guessed correctly.

“Yes,” he said with a pitiful sigh. “Jinx.”

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