@jasperlion mentioned despotbled in a post “Berkut's face was taped up pretty well the next day. A concussion,...”
“…” Albein takes a breath, trying to keep what they had spoken of in mind, trying to drown out his want to… do just that, if only to shut him up. ‘Don’t act upon your impulses, Albein, he’s bedridden.’ He tells himself with closed eyes and an exhale, only to open them again and cross his arms, closing the door behind him with his foot.
“I came to apologize.” He said instead, trying to keep his head on his shoulders well as he could. If he was to be Emperor like his father, he had to act like it, and his cousin was a good start. “For everything the other day. I lost control and gave into exactly what you told me not to.”
And so, to that, he bows his head, pressing his left hand to his chest to display how heartfelt his words were, then rose once more to stand tall, hand dropping to his side. How sad his cousin looked… laying there like some sort of weak beast — and it had been him who did it, plain and simple. “I know it is unexpected… in more ways than one, but I hope it is a beginning of a better hold upon my temper.” It’s all he can do now.
Berkut turned his gaze away from his cousin, preferring to glare out of his window. It had been opened to let in a calming spring breeze. The nursemaid told him that the fresh air would serve to speed up his recovery by raising his spirits and ridding the room of the stale, musty air. Instead he often found himself glaring at it, loathing the bright sunlight and becoming frequently annoyed by the chirping of the songbirds.
“I don’t buy it,” he stated simply. “Did Uncle Rudolf tell you to come apologize to me for your behavior? I won’t accept it so simply. You’ve always treated me as though I was beneath you, Albein. Why should I accept your apology now? Why should I ever believe you’ve had a change of heart?”
He shook his head, then immediately regretted it, sinking back onto his pillows as the world spun around him. The dizziness might need another few days or so to subside, he’d been told. After he took a few seconds to attempt to compose himself, he sighed.
“... I get it, alright? You treat me that way because... Simply, you are. You ARE better than me, Albein. I shouldn’t have to remind you of that.” Four punches. Just four. He could have died so easily. Albein should have let it happen. He’d regret that act of mercy.
“I don’t even know why you insist on keeping my company. I’m surely nothing but a nagging nuisance to you. You are Rigelian royalty, serving under the will of Duma. Don’t ever apologize for asserting your strength over any subordinate foolish enough to stand in your path.”
Berkut surely wouldn’t, in his position.
