Chapter 1

The At Least game always started in the same way. At Least I'm not dead. Not being dead usually seemed like the most important thing, since without it no other At Least would exist.

At least, it continued this time, I don't have to sleep in the same chambers as my husband. At least, my marriage brought a new alliance for the Sunny Kingdom. At least, here I can be real.

And that was the most important part. Was Rob real? He pinched himself. Yes, real.

Being real was the most important thing after not being dead. Being real, sometimes, was more important than being alive.

As long as Rob would exist, things would be okay in the end.

The at least game was meant to be played the same way some people count till ten before exploding with anger. Protection. A way of preventing what was inside - usually, for Rob, sadness - of going out.

It wasn't working that day. He couldn't stop crying, afraid of leaving the castle library, terrified of being caught there.

He watched as the tears left small stained marks on the floor, while he tried to breathe through his mouth. It wasn't working. None of that was working. He couldn't stop.

Maybe he could reach his room without being caught. Maybe. Maybe he could avoid the eyes of others.

He got up, a difficult movement. His vision was blurry with tears and his breath was heavy.

One step, then another.

At Least I am not living with my mother anymore. At least I'm being treated well. At least I…

"Help", said a voice, coming from somewhere nearby.

He wasn't expecting to find anyone in the library, and the sound made him stop. Who could it be, asking for help in a place no one used to visit?

"Help", said the voice again, and this time Rob heard pain. Physical pain.

He imagined books falling in someone's foot or maybe something more drastic like a book on someone's head. Anything that causes pain.

Rob started to walk slower. There was an odd smell in the air. Something metallic, a bad odor.

He stepped in the blood before seeing anything.

Blue blood, like the ones royal witches had. A big trail There was a long trail of it on the library floor. Rob stopped breathing.

"Help"

Help.

Rob tried to run, he really tried, but fear slowed down his feet, making him walk the blue path at a minimal speed. He went around a corner of books, and there it was.

Rob recognized the man immediately. Sir Edward. He was laying on the floor, in a pool of blue blood reflecting Rob's face.

And on Sir Edward's neck. There was a hand.

A hand coming out of no body, almost transparent. Strangling Sir Edward, letting his face purple.

Magic.

Rob tried to inhale some air. Any air.

"Help"

And Rob's legs wouldn't move.

He needed to do something. He wanted to do something. What? What to do? How to move?

How to breathe?

"At least", a part of his brain said, "Sir Edward is not dead yet".

And Rob got to take a deep breath. He ran towards the man and grabbed the translucent hand. His fingers wrapped around its fingers and he tried to pull it out with all his strength. Sir Edward was trembling beneath all the fight.

Nothing happened.

"Help!", he screamed to someone, anyone, while holding the magic hand. "Sir Edward is dying, help!"

No matter how strongly he pulled, the hand wouldn't move. Sir Edward couldn't even talk anymore, he just twitched, weakly.

Then, he stopped moving.

The hand disappeared, letting only Rob touch the broken neck. He took off his hands, slowly, and watched the man. Not breathing, not moving.

Dead.

Dead dead dead dead

"Somebody Help!," Rob yelled.

He heard steps after some seconds. The first to appear was a tall and strong man. Blue, blue eyes.

"No," said the King of the Rainy Kingdom, leader of the mountains, guardian of the forest, and Rob's husband.

No, the king said. And the word resonated in his ears.

No.

No.

Rob looked at his hands, covered in blood. Then, he looked at Sir Edward. There were men of the army behind the King. They all had the same look in their eyes.

Rob realized what was going on.

He tried to say something.

"No…. I… I would never have the strength. And all this blood…"

"You're the one who said to me your strength wasn't less than any of my men."

"Of course... of course I'm not that strong."

"So you lied to me"

"Y… yes." It wasn't the time to be proud. There was a dead person to worry about.

The King did a gesture with his hand, and the army men grabbed Rob. He let them search for something on his clothes.

"Found something," said one of the guards. He grabbed a small bottle of something, stained with blue blood, from Rob's pocket.

"This would explain the blood," the King held the bottle.

"I don't know what that is." It was the truth. Not just it was never on Rob's pocket, but he also had no idea what kind of liquid was it.

The guards were trying to frame him? The King? Someone? This was a mistake. A big mistake. An enormous mistake.

Rob would never. Rob didn't.

But he looked into the King's eyes and saw what was happening next.

His fate was sealed.