Prince Marth of Altea glared out over the choppy waters of the channel between the kingdom….former kingdom of Altea and the Kingdom of Talys. He was weak. He knew that now.

A strong prince would have managed to keep his throne.

He supposed the Altea was now just another providence of the Dolhr Empire. One that would be destroyed, if the actions of the soldiers was any indication. The Emperor seemed determined to break Altea, no matter that the kingdom had fallen with little to no resistance. No matter that he held the heir to the throne, if he hadn't killed her already. No matter that he had the legendary blade Falchion in his possession. No, the only thing that apparently mattered to the Emperor was the fact that the last male heir of Anri had managed to slip through his fingers. And the kingdom was paying the price for the Imperial failure.

A strong prince would not have had to have left one of his men to be butchered.

He still remembered the trace of fear and resentment that had flashed across Frey's face when he had made that decision. He knew that the others thought he had left Frey at the fortress because he had been wounded and would have been a hindrance. That wasn't why. Who else had there been? Cain, having just survived the Gra betrayal was filled with self-loathing over the fact he had left men behind? One of whom was his king. Marth couldn't do that to him, give him what would have undoubtedly been interpreted as a bid for revenge. Abel, Cain's younger cousin? He couldn't, mostly for the same reason as Cain. Marth would not seem like he was punishing Cain for obeying an order from his king. Jagen, whom he would need? Malledus, whom he would also need? Or perhaps Gordin, the youngest of them and recently rescued from Gra's forces. So it had been Frey who had been chosen to die. For him. That would have so much easier to accept without the last two emotions in Frey's eyes. Understanding and forgiveness.

A strong prince would have never left his sister and mother behind.

This last point was the one that caused him the most pain. He had knowingly and deliberately left behind his only two remaining family members. Left them to face torture and a nearly certain death. Because somewhere along the line someone had decided that he was more important than they were.

As the rain began to fall, Marth let the tears leak from his eyes. He wept for his kingdom, burned and ravaged by cruel overlords who didn't care for the people. He wept for Frey, the knight he had known as a baby and discarded almost without a second thought. He wept for what little of his family remained. And he wept for the boy that he had been and would never be again. And then he stopped weeping.

The weak cried. And he could be weak no longer.