## Chapter 7: Hans' Desperation

The warm glow of the candles in the room danced across Hans' face, but it did little to lift his spirits. Iduna had been right; his brothers' cruelty had taken its toll on him. He felt like he was drowning in their scorn, suffocating under the weight of his family's expectations. The sound of Rudi and Runo's mocking voices still echoed in his mind, making his skin crawl. As he sat in the grand hall, surrounded by his family, Hans felt like an outsider. His brothers, Rudi, Runo, Caleb, and Lars, were all gathered around the table, their faces twisted in cruel smiles. King Westergaard, a stern-faced man with a strong jawline, presided over the meeting, his eyes cold and unforgiving. Hans' eyes wandered to the large window, where he could see the sprawling city of the Southern Isles. The buildings were a mix of stone and timber, with steeply pitched roofs and chimneys belching smoke into the air. The streets were bustling with people, but Hans noticed that they all seemed to be in a hurry, their faces downcast and worried. The tension in the room was palpable, and Hans felt like he was on the verge of a breakdown. He pushed his chair back and stood up, his eyes locked on his brothers. "I don't see why I have to sit here and listen to this," he said, his voice shaking with anger. Rudi and Runo exchanged a mocking glance. "Oh, Hans, you're so sensitive," Rudi sneered. "We're just trying to help you become a better prince." Hans' face reddened with anger, but he bit back his retort. He knew that his brothers would never understand him, never accept him for who he was. He felt like he was suffocating under their scorn, and he didn't know how much more he could take. As the meeting continued, Hans' desperation grew. He felt like he was trapped, with no way out. He pushed his chair back and stood up, his eyes locked on his father's. "I need to get out of here," he said, his voice shaking with emotion. King Westergaard's expression turned cold. "You're not going anywhere, Hans," he said. "You're going to sit here and listen to what we have to say." Hans felt a surge of anger and frustration. He knew that he couldn't take much more of this. He turned and walked out of the room, leaving his family behind. He wandered the empty corridors, feeling lost and alone. He didn't know what to do, or where to turn. He felt like he was at the end of his rope, with no way out. As he walked, he stumbled upon a small room that seemed to be unused. He entered the room, and locked the door behind him. He felt a sense of relief wash over him, as if he had finally found a place where he could be alone. He walked over to a small table, and pulled out a small bottle of poison. He had found it in his father's room, and he had been carrying it with him ever since. He had thought about using it before, but he had never had the courage. Now, he felt like he had no other choice. He opened the bottle, and poured the poison into a small cup. He raised the cup to his lips, and hesitated for a moment. And then, he drank. The poison burned his throat, and he felt a wave of pain wash over him. He stumbled backwards, and fell onto the floor. He felt like he was dying, and he was grateful. But as he lay there, he heard the sound of footsteps outside the room. The door burst open, and his mother, Queen Alice, rushed in. "Hans, no!" she cried, rushing to his side. Iduna was right behind her, her face filled with concern. "Hans, what have you done?" she asked, her voice gentle. Hans tried to speak, but he couldn't. He felt like he was slipping away, and he couldn't stop it. Iduna's face was the last thing he saw, before everything went black.