Self-destruction

Celeste's mind swirled. An ice ran down her spines by the soft caress of his fine fingers on her rough skin; cemented by the usual chore she does home. Her warm blood rushed fast through her veins. But...

Cold. His hands were so cold against such a warmth.

Resting her hand in his grip, Tristan used his other hand to unfold her tight fist, revealing the bloodstains on her palm. Bloody hand. A chill reverberated everywhere.

Dumbfounded, Trevor watched his brother's face darkening more as he brought her hand close to his nose to smell the blood. For an instant, there was a surprise in his dark eyes that faded in another second.

Celeste froze. She had almost forgotten about these tints' evidence. A few curses vanished in her throat because of not being smart enough to recall and clean it faster.

"Seems like you will be a good executioner." His mouth lifted in a sinister smirk. "Now I really want to dare you, lady."

A few while later of stillness, Celeste finally braced herself and resisted the sensation of his touch, fisting her hand back. "You shouldn't dare a person who is left with nothing, milord." Her statement was slightly shaky yet too clear to catch. A few years back, it would have hurt her so bad to utter such words, but not anymore. She had grown stronger every day just to believe the words and mend herself into the brutal reality.

"A person is never left with nothing. If there was nothing, there wouldn't be anything. Not even the person itself." Damien stayed calm although he didn't blunder the sense where her tone sounded not only informal but also disdaining.

Rather than meddling in the probable rudeness, he found her words quite silly and naive. "If a man loses his family, his shelter or even his job, he still has himself, his time and his life to cherish. They are worthy enough if he learns to treasure." His persisting voice trailed off.

She didn't seem to sense gospel in any word as she attempted to bring her assertion again. "Self-esteem brings more distress."

"Still, self-worth is quite better than self-destruction, lady." Tristan rectified.

Celeste heaved a mute sigh. She knew it wasn't any self-destruction. It was her passion that'd developed since childhood – facing problems and defeating them.

Tristan sneaked a glance at his brother who was keen to leave the chamber. He had something to say for sure. Giving a slight nod, he shifted his gaze to the girl again. "Enough time wasted. See you tomorrow in front of the dungeon."

"Why not tonight?" Celeste had grinned tightly.

Trevor, there was once again stupefied. "Lady, it's the sleeping time for humans." This girl was a bolt from the blue. She wasn't being serious, not at all.

"Who told you that I am a human?" Celeste asked him, attempting to replenish the sarcasm.

"Tan, lock her inside the dungeon. She is scaring me." Trevor said and conveyed his brother a look before exiting the chamber.

Tristan tittered darkly, stare still fixed on Celeste. "It's not appropriate to take a woman with me in the dungeon at this hour."

"But from what I know, the royal employees need to work twenty-four hours a day." She replied, her tongue felt like melted butter. This time, she was surprised by herself. It wasn't that she couldn't wait at all. Starting tonight or starting tomorrow, it was all the same. But to her wonder, she kept debating with him, with the Royal Prince.

Releasing a soft breath, Tristan nodded. "Right when you will start working for this Castle, you will be one of our employees who is a woman. But before that, it's just a woman whom I don't know." He said. This girl was even more frustrating than he thought. "And also note that, you do need to pass as a trainee. There are some initial tests you will have to go through. Better prepare yourself."

Celeste nodded. "Of course, Mr T..." She bit her tongue which had slipped. He was the freaking Prince, the soon-to-be lord, not someone ordinary. Even though it was not intentional, she wanted to slap herself or hide anywhere from him.

He raised his brows. But parting his lips, when was about to say something, his brother Trevor appeared again. He was panting, probably had run here. "Tan, Congrats!" The words left his throat between his heavy breaths as a young woman stood beside him and bowed, wearing a long vintage gown, the cap on her head had covered her hair.

Celeste's lips parted recognizing her face. She was the court lady who used to be the first queen's right hand. She had been serving the second queen now since the eldest one had died six years ago. The matter of wonder was Miss Eleanor looked the same until now. On wrinkle-free fair skin, she had an elegant pair of grey eyes, brown eyebrows, a small pointy nose and natural full lips. In a word, she was the definition of true glamour.

"Milord, Typhoon is dead." The woman said and reluctantly, that made Celeste sorry for whoever it was.

However, on the contrary, hearing upon her words, Tristan's face felt at ease. "Sure, he is supposed to be dead, Miss Eleanor."

Celeste gaped. How could he look so normal hearing someone's death's news? And what again? That little one was congratulating him for that man's demise?

"But milord, the..." Eleanor paused as she noticed the new face here. "Who are you?" The girl didn't look like any maid or server she knew.

Celeste bowed politely. "I am a new candidate for the executioner and food taster job."

"A female?" She asked Tristan who would have the explanation. At his nod, her eyes widened.

"Lady, it will be appreciated if you leave now." said Trevor. They needed a little space to converse.

Celeste gave a curt nod and stepped out of the chamber but after she took another step, she heard loud laughter echoing close the door. Now they were even laughing at that man's death? Weird. Mysterious. Horrible. These people were everything and thinking about them was a shitty thing to do too. So, before the topic could tangle her intellect farther, deciding not to bother, she trudged towards the interior balcony where her best friend, Amelia was waiting for her arrival.