Fenne is my secondary villain who is forms a contrast to Sorian. Both are princes who want to please their fathers and seem worthy of the crown.
However, Sorian is a very direct villain who should still be respected for his intelligence and bravery - he just takes things too far.
On the other hand, Fenne is a coward who is too afraid to put himself in a position to gain true respect. He sells people out and makes petty, vindictive political plays.
Rivek joins the royal guard as a way to become a more useful human being. As a result, he engages in physical combat to save Fenne's life, and his heretical powers are exposed. When Rivek is sent to court, Fenne is too pre-occupied with looking good in front of his father than to speak up and save his friend. Hence, when they are in a situation again - Fenne depending on Rivek - there is nothing but bitterness. But Rivek finds himself in a catch - if he abandons Fenne out of vengeance, he will be no better than his opponent.
Rivek wiped the blood from the base of his nose. His nostrils burned as if he had just vomited up the wrong passageway. He rubbed his temples to chase away the ringing in his ears. He brushed the ash off his limbs, taking count to make sure they were still there in one piece. Lastly, but perhaps most importantly, he checked his belt. Good. His knife was still there.
Still shaken, but satisfied with his condition, he began scouring the rubble, looking for signs of life. He thought he saw a broken door frame lift upwards a few inches. He waded, knee-deep in debris. There was someone alive under there. He could feel it. He drew his knife, keeping it in his left hand.
If he wanted to keep his weapon hand free, he would have to be smart about lifting the door. He searched along its edge for the best point to grab. Here, if he pivoted it a little, he could use a piece of broken foundation as a fulcrum. He grabbed the corner, wincing as splinters dug into right palm. Despite consistent treatment, the skin had not fully healed yet. He braced his legs among the broken moulding and threw his entire weight into his arm, lifting the structure above his head.
The moment he fully extended his arm, his right elbow locked and began to shake. Without thinking, he caught the falling door with his left, knife still in his palm.
Shit, he thought. If whoever was down here wasn't the particularly friendly sort, his entire abdomen was now an open target. This is what you get for helping people. He looked down.
"Fenne."
The thin prince lay on his side, wheezing. He looked up at his rescuer. It took a few seconds before the recognition spread across his face.
"Cordelain, help me. Take me to my father."
He sat up and brushed the waves of matted auburn hair out of his eyes. Rivek could no longer tell what marks on his face were dirt and which were freckles. He quickly sheathed the knife, so he could use both hands to support the door.
"Did you forget, your highness? I haven't been 'Cordelain' for awhile, nor will I ever again. I don't have an obligation to help you here."
Fenne whined. Rivek paused and took a step back, letting the door fall.
"Wait -!"
Rivek caught the door on his shoulder, supporting it with his legs and entire back, rather than his shaking arms, made it much easier.
"You can't leave me."
"I think it's high time the royally of Brennan stop telling me what I can and cannot do."
Fenne shook. "You can't leave me because if you did, you'd be fulfilling every stereotype that they threw at you in that courtroom - the same judgements you fought so hard to turn around. And this time, you would burn. The punishment for regicide is death. You know it as well as I do."
Rivek bared his teeth, but he kept the door propped up on his shoulder. He nodded, "You should get out before I change my mind."
Fenne scuttled out, and Rivek let the frame drop back onto the ground, raising a massive cloud of dust. He coughed and turned to face Fenne.
"You still have your sword."
He gave the scabbard a harsh tug, breaking the gilded snaps that held it to Fenne's belt. He grabbed Fenne by the collar.
"Now, listen here. Given I don't report to you anymore, you can't just expect me to handle every bad guy that comes along. You're going to learn this little thing I like to call, 'teamwork.'"
He shoved the sword into the prince's bleeding hands. Rivek smirked. About time that spoiled brat get a callous on his fingers.
"We'll find your dad. But we'll do it together. As equals."
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