I'll Do It!

Charling turned paler than the concrete dust smudged onto the trio's blood-sprinkled bodies. The quivering prince could hardly muster a response. "B-but I… I'm the oldest–"

"And the weakest between the two of us," Artor cut in with authority. "You only acted for the sake of our sweet old godmother. To the extent that you participated in the assassination of our parents. 

"Charling, you're lucky that you're most effective to me alive. Personally, I wouldn't care if you were sentenced to death for plotting and enacting a double regicide!"

Gulp…

That threat loomed over the hostage prince, pressuring the weak Charling deeper into his mental shell of insecurity. 

"... But, lucky for you, Big Brother, my plans deem you most useful as a mentally unstable, potato of a man," Artor expounded. "You'll live the life you always dreamed up. You won't lose your silk sheets, your maid service, or even a couple of women in bed when you wish.