"Fetch a physician!" His father stepped back. "Teris? Carry the prince to his bed and be quick about it."
He must be near death for his father to be this concerned. "I'm fine, Father. We can continue."
His father shook his head as Teris, his father's personal guard, moved to pick Styxx up. "Have the rest of the sessions canceled with my apologies. Tell them we'll resume in the morning."
When Teris reached to touch him, Styxx bolted from his throne. "I can walk." But it wasn't easy. He was so dizzy.
"At least let Teris help you."
Styxx shook his head. He never wanted to feel another pair of male hands on his body again. They could all rot in Tartarus.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Galen appeared by his side. "Give me your arm, Highness."
Styxx relaxed at the presence of the one and only person he trusted, and did as Galen ordered. At least when Galen knocked him around, he was open about it.
And Styxx always had a weapon in his hand.
Galen draped his arm around his shoulders and walked him to his room. Without a word, he put Styxx to bed then withdrew as the king came forward to stand next to Styxx.
"Galen?" Styxx called.
The old man turned at the door. "Yes, Highness?"
"Thank you."
He saluted him. "Any time you need me, good prince. I am ever at your service."
His father touched Styxx's brow again. "I don't understand why it is you sweat, but your skin is so frigid."
He didn't know either. For the last couple of days, he'd broken into a sweat and shook for no apparent reason. It never lasted that long and, thankfully, he'd been able to hide it.
Until today.
He wasn't sure what made this different. All of a sudden, he sneezed and his nose poured blood. He cursed, pinching his nostrils together as he sat up in spite of the spinning room. The whole side of his face burned. In that instant, he knew what was happening.
Acheron. Someone had struck his brother's face. Hard. So much so that Styxx had several loosened teeth from it.
But he couldn't let his father know that.
"Here." His father gave him a towel. "I thought your nosebleeds had stopped."
"No, Sire." He'd just gotten better at hiding them from his father over the years.
Styxx wiped at his face. His eyes flew wide as he felt a new pain in the last place he wanted to feel one. It took every bit of strength he had not to cry out as something impaled him. What was Estes doing to his brother?
He was desperate to get to the drawer where he kept the numbing gel, but he didn't dare use it while his father hovered so close. Nor could he allow his father to see his discomfort. And it was merciless. Like he was being cleaved in half.
"Finally," his father said as the physician joined them.
The physician bowed low to his king. "Your Majesty. I was told the prince is unwell?"
"He is." His father stepped away so the physician could examine Styxx's body.
Styxx cringed every time the man touched him.
"Where did these bruises come from, Highness?"
"Training," he lied.