On the highest tower of a castle, a young man was feeling the wind. A smile that was too beautiful for a man’s face spread across his face, and he extended his arms as if trying to touch the clouds. A black cat with red eyes sat beside him.
The cat ignored the beautiful scenery before it and instead watched Orias.
“Bella, don’t you think it’s a beautiful day?”
The cat meowed, curling her tail around her body. She was used to his sudden whims It would have been easy to assume the cat was a pet, but the cat was much more than that. This cat was Orias’s twin sister, Isabella.
She looked up at her brother and let out a sigh.
“What? I’m not drunk.”
The cat squinted and meowed again.
“You’re such a party pooper, Bella. It’s not everyday that our debt to the capital triples overnight.”
The cat had to stop herself from gagging.
Orias laughed and rubbed the cat’s ears. He looked at the horizon, the smile on his face widening. He couldn’t help but laugh. Five years. For five years he did his absolute best to manage the province, to make sure the people prospered, and for five years he had to watch his province get absolutely swindled by the king, by his nine brothers, and by the nobles of the capital.
Bella meowed.
“No Bella we’re not jumping off the tower.”
A gust of wind blew by and Orias stumbled, his arms flailing to regain balance. He looked down the castle walls and stared at the city below. A city full of poverty and crime. The streets had more homeless people than pedestrians. This was a city where the men and women had their dignity stripped away and worked for scraps in the name of a better life. A better life that never came.
He looked back at the horizon.
It was a beautiful day, and the heavens were laughing at him.
Orias let out a sigh. He had been naive. His reincarnation made him think he could accomplish the impossible. It didn’t matter that he was given a trash province, he thought he could make things better. His dad was a trillionaire, and Orias was his right hand man, surely he could turn things around?
He was mistaken.
“Bella, I think I know what it’s like to be ass-raped by a horse.”
The cat chuckled at that. “Brother, I was wondering when you’d say it.”
Orias jumped at the sudden voice, turning to the cat beside him.
“Magic cat?”
The cat rolled her eyes.
“Are you that drunk brother?” The cat shifted, and in an instant a naked woman stood beside him. She crossed her arms, shaking her head in disapproval.
“Boobs, no Bella, it’s dangerous to expose those to me.”
Bella ignored him and pinched his ears. “Let’s go down, I’m hungry.”
Orias let her drag him back inside, staring at her ass. The stone stairs were cold, the only comfort was the warmth of his sister’s hand and the one in his trousers.
The two made their way through the castle, the empty halls haunted by the silence. Barely any servants remained in the palace, and no guards patrolled the walls. The place felt dead. The only sign of life were the paintings on the walls. Even those were old and faded.
He stopped in front of a portrait, his father in this life, the king of humans. A man he only saw twice in this life. Once when he was born, the second when he was blessed and thrown into this wretched province.
“Fire the royal painter, Bella.”
His sister let go of his hand and turned around, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“I am the royal painter, brother.”
Orias turned to her, his face blank. Right. Bella was the royal painter. “Then paint something new, I hate seeing father’s face every time I walk through these halls.”
Isabella shrugged. “Sure, what do you want painted?”
Her boobs jiggled as she did so and Orias’s eyes were glued to them. Pointing at them, he said, “Those.”
Bella sighed.
The two made their way to the dining hall and sat down at the table, a single maid bringing them food. The food was the only thing this province was good for. The monsters in this area had the best meat. Or at least that was what he convinced himself.
On the table was a large slab of meat. A dead monster that looked like an overgrown crocodile. Orias grabbed a knife and cut into it, making his sister drool.
Sticking a fork in it he brought the piece to Bella’s lips.
“Say ah boobs.”
She bit into the food and swallowed. “I regret not eating you in the womb.”
Orias laughed and cut another piece for himself. He chewed on the meat and let out a sigh. It was bland.
The maid stood in the corner of the room, watching them eat. She was young, not more than 14. Also a human. All of his workers were human. The demi-humans refused to work under him.
Bella and Orias ate in silence, and once they were done, he raised his hand.
“Can we get the check please?” He asked the maid.
The maid tilted her head.
A slap landed from his right. “Brother, stop being stupid. You own this place, remember?” Isabella said, her cheeks red.
Orias shook his head. “The king owns me, this province, you, and that maid over there. I just happen to be his bitch.”
Isabella didn’t respond, she knew not to argue with him when he was acting like this. Instead, she stood up and held her hand out.
She dragged him to his room, pushing him onto his bed. “Sleep and figure out how to fix this problem tomorrow.”
A sigh escaped his lips. Taking off his shirt and pants, he saw himself in the mirror. A body full of scars, the biggest of them was on his chest. The crest of the royal family, burned into his skin. All heirs had a similar brand. A brand that signified the right to the throne.
He smiled. At least his sister didn’t have to suffer through that.
“Brother!”
Orias blinked and turned to the voice. Isabella was on the bed, her naked body on full display.
“Sleep.”
He shook his head, his gaze drifting to another tattoo on his body. Below his abdomen, a strange depiction of a womb was seen.
A symbol of the divine.
A curse that marked him as the biggest joke in the history of the kingdom. His brothers had divine blessings of ice, fire, lightning, and many others. What did he get? A womb.
The gods mocked him.
Touching the tattoo, he let out a sigh.
He crawled onto the red queen bed and pulled his sister into his arms. Her soft breasts pressed against his bare chest and he let out another sigh.
His stomach clenched. Here he was. Living in a swamp like Shrek. No money, no power, no influence.
Life was a joke.
Orias pressed his face closer to the two pillows and closed his eyes. The softness of his sister’s chest was the only comfort he had in this world besides the cheap wine.
Sleep took him; he didn’t bother praying before bed.
A knock came at the door.
Orias groaned, his eyes barely open. He felt his sister move and the warmth on his chest vanished. The bed shook and the door opened. The maid from earlier entered the room, her eyes wide.
“Prince Orias, a letter has come from the capital.”
He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Lay it on the table, I’ll read it later.”
The maid shook her head. “Prince, it’s from the king.”
He froze.
A letter from the king? Why would that old bastard write to him? He stood up, his body naked. Ignoring the maid’s gaze he grabbed the letter and opened it.
His eyes widened as he read the contents.
“I’m supposed to be in the capital, in a fucking week.”