Deserter Prince

This is a sequel to a super-short story I wrote a while ago, called 'Girl of The Story'. This one's a little darker though. Once more, enjoy!

Deserter Prince
A prince should be wise.

A prince should be brave

A prince should inspire his people.

I am none of that. I shouldn't be alive, I should be resting in the blood-soaked earth with my friends and comrades. But I deserted. I'm not the kinda guy who ends up a hero in a storybook, I'm the kinda guy who fails on the second chapter. Yet I'm the only person alive in my family.

Marc: abusive brother, bullied me, was stabbed to death by the princess he was rescuing.

Al: cousin who I never met, eaten by hippogriff.

Parents: Died in peasant rebellion.

They say better alive then dead. I don't... know. A prince must be stalwart, must be... manly. I can't! I saw Eric with a sword in his gut, saw the only person I ever loved fall, fall, crimison red hair stark against the green grass. I ran, ran with tears in my eyes and guilt in my heart. My parents said a prince must be strong, unflinching.

Why can't a prince be human?