“Everyone says we fight because we have to. Why?” Sehun stares at his reflection as a servant adjusts plated mail over the prince’s shoulders.

“I-I don’t know, your highness.”

“My father wouldn’t listen to me. My brother is too focused on pointless revenge...” He sighs, pulling an arm up to test the fit of the armor. “There must be a better way.”

“If anyone can find a way, I’m sure it will be you, sir.”

Sehun wishes he could be so optimistic. If he dies, the crown goes to some cousin; that branch of the family tree has been waiting for the royal family’s limbs to fall. They’re hungry for power, not peace.

It seems as though he’s the only one looking for an alternative to war. For as many stories as there are of the battles and skirmishes, he has yet to discover a key moment that triggered everything. There is the possibility, he supposes, that the people just got tired, and the frustrations mounted up and spilled over and snowballed into a continuing avalanche of violence. Fighting is just more familiar than anything else.

But Sehun believes they can learn. His father was an old war horse; his brother emulates him. If Sehun ever comes to power, his reign will focus on resolutions rather than rampage.

It’s an uplifting thought until a messenger tells him his brother is dead, and he is the new leader of the kingdom.