You don't get to say anything. Your Father has already seen everything.

"Do you take me for a fool Mothras?!"

Your brother knew not to push your Father when he was this angry. All of your siblings lower their heads in obedience. You are gently lowered on the ground. You turn your head around to look at your savior. It was Reaha. Your seven and a half foot tall soul-bound Draenei companion. The royals often treated her like a **** but she wasn't one. You literally shared one half of each others soul. She was your best friend, your confidant, your lover, and your literal soulmate.

You nod at her in thanks. She closes her eyes and acknowledges you.

"No, Father. I apologize for my conduct."

"As you should. Return to your chambers at once, all of you, and reflect on your actions today. Those actions are precisely why none of you are worthy of the crown."

"And Vithras is?! He's the weakest of us all! He lacks magical potential."

"He more than makes up for it with his strong intellect, his kindness, and his diplomatic nature. When have you ever seen him start a fight? A wise King knows fights are futile."

"He wanted to kill me just a minute ago. Or did you not hear that dear Father? Is that how a wise King is supposed to be?"

"I heard. A wise King never starts a fight. But a wise King also knows not to back down when it is **** upon him. Vithras conducted himself well. His language could use a little cleaning up, but, the fact remains. His conduct was far better than any of yours."

"But he still remains weak. Do you think the people would respect a King with no magic? I still think you should reconsider Father. He will bring us despair and ruin!"

Your Father opens his mouth to speak up but you intervene.

"How about this brother," you speak up "If I defeat you in battle, you will drop this issue once and for all."

"And if I win?"

"You can have whatever your wish from me," now it was your Father's turn to interrupt you.

"Well, if that's the case, then I'd like to be crowned the King and I want little Vito to be exiled."

A heavy silence looms in the air. The weight of this conversation was almost suffocating.

"I agree to your conditions brother. Let us have the battle a week from now."

"Why a week? Why not now?" he says, his fingers crackling with electricity.

"I want to even the odds and that'll require preparation."

Mothras scoffs. "If you were a real man, you'd fight me right now!" the electricity crackles stronger.

"Are you afraid that I might actually win, brother?"

"W...what? No! Fine! Take your week, little Vito! Your preparations won't matter anyway, because
I will win."

"We'll see about that."

He scoffs again and departs with your other siblings, leaving you alone with Reaha and your Father, who has an exasperated look on his face.

"Both of you, come with me." your Father orders. Both of you dutifully follow him.