[@Aisling]

"About myself?" Blake said. "Imagine a castle in which there are so many rooms that there is no real use for them, and they are used only for the rights to brag that you have that many rooms. There are two boys, one of them is me. When I see the other boy, I see so many things he has that I do not. I may buy things that are like them, but I am not satisfied. The itch cannot be scratched, the food lies eternally above my head. I do not see what he was so angry about, with so many things I can never have. There is my father and mother. Mother is but an extension of father. Father wanted an heir, and he got two. If only he wanted a child, he could feel. Instead he seemed dead inside, and only knew how to be miserable.  In this castle of wealth, decadence makes the edges of everything moldy. We hated each other at home, we despised our very presence, so we got lost in other things. I don't know what normal people do with wealth, but people who inherit it only want more. At least I think that's right. That's the only thing I can think of to explain how horrible we are to each other."