The man was feeling all kinds of emotions he didn't want at that time. He was feeling greedy for the great power before him. He felt envy at his own inferiority. He felt angry at the act of kindness before him, and he felt a twisted desire to trap that power in a cage before him, to exploit the beauty presented before him.
He imagined the fear and respect his companions would feel, the authority he could command for those pests who not even dare lift their heads in his presence. The envy and unsatisfied greed that would surround him. How easy it would be to crush those measly ants before him, especially that damned Dukedom. Those damn pests had refused to acknowledge him. The bearer of the crown and most importantly, that infuriating heir. How the damn brat looked at him with disdain and authority. Raymond Verne. He couldn't even stand to that name. That bastard had looked down on him from his academy days.
What for? Just because he could never sit on that throne, the only thing higher than Verne? No, he had sat on it. The crown was his yet, and that pest bowed only in formality. The gaze was still that of one looking down at someone. He felt a great inferiority complex, and he knew it. He had tried to drown himself in luxury, in vanity, but he still felt damn inferior. Only he refused to acknowledge it.
His brother, praised as an outstanding crown Prince and heir fit to rule the throne. His father that loved him, seeing his own projection in his vain son. The damn Ducal guy who looked down on the Royal Him and finally now the damned power before him. He had dealt with his father. His brother was on the run. Of course, he would soon be found and killed. He could break the damn power before him, and he knew very well on how to and the most rewarding idea. Break not just the beauty but use that power to destroy the ducal at that moment, the man in the shadows behind the rocks and Debris, Hayden Clanton de Shire had harbored his most sinister and successful plan. A few errors, but it was sure to be a huge success.