While my brother fought for his life and his future, I had given a lot of thought about the important things: how I would present and carry myself during the hasty journey north to save him.
Should I emerge in my rarely worn holy attire or would that feel too on the nose? Would it tug at more heart strings if I rushed out of this stagecoach in a flurry of tears to my wounded brother's side or should I display some imperial stoicism and not shed a single tear in the face of adversity?
That second choice could make me look heartless. Although, the same could be said for deliberating over all of this instead of fretting about my oldest brother's life and the potential role my other brother had in endangering it. Leaving Radovalsk in this manner feels like always heaven and hell to me. Despite being full of people who want my life, sometimes the most dangerous places are the safest as I have experienced the most threats to my life when I leave the palace.
