He is the forgotten brother, the lost son. His is a story of risk without reward. Of grubby, broken second controllers. You can play, they say, but not on the good one. That one is reserved for your betters. Stay in the back. Shut up. Stop complaining. Struggling, fighting against the madness in the world around him, only to return to a cold, empty bed. For him, the princess will always be in another castle.
Music is a sense memory for the things we remember that nobody else will ever know. This story is the very beginning of my book, Echoes of Old Souls, a collection of stories where death is not the end. Hope you enjoy!