Brother's Quarrel

Marcellus

The weight of my illness pressed against my bones, each movement a test of my will. I had returned from the patrol with Nate, exhaustion settling deep in my chest, but there was no relief to be found. Claudia was still missing. It had been over a day since our argument, her absence gnawed at me like a wound refusing to heal. I did not know if she had left out of anger or if something more sinister had taken her away.

I leaned heavily against the chair in my chambers, my breath shallow. Nate stood before me, his face lined with worry. "The maids swear they saw her last with Darius," he said, his voice low. "He was scolding her."

The mention of my brother filled my mouth with bitterness. Darius had always been a thorn in my side, the embodiment of everything I was not. Healthy, strong, ruthless—he carried the power of our family name without the burden of sickness.