CHAPTER EIGHT

Snorting a devilish laughter, “You can do your worst!” the young man roared at the commander, then spat some spittle on his face, showing his immunity to his threat.

“You bastard!” the commander groaned angrily, his fingers crawling together into a tight fist. He punched over his jaw bones, pounding repeatedly on his stomach and other parts of his body.

He slowly left him, seeing the bad effects of his anger on him.

The initial plan was not to kill him but to sternly pass a message.

As blood dripped out of the young man’s nose, he rigorously clenched his fists and toes, furiously fuming not because he was going through severe torture but because of his inability to move a step since he was restricted to a tree.

He gritted hard his teeth, cursing his fate inwardly.

“You want to marry that callous princess of Decresh.” The commander repeated his statement from earlier, his tone a little more calm but didn’t match the menacing look on his face.

“What has she done to you?” the young man asked, wanting to know as a deep worry superseded his anger.

The princess of Decresh, whom he had seen, looked innocent and like someone who could barely hurt a fly.

“She killed our crown prince!” The commander reacted with a deep howl, his temper escalating.

The princess killing not just any person but a crown prince? The young man doubted. Her innocent looks alone can defend her anywhere.

“And now, she wants to have you as her husband. Never! I’ll never allow that to happen, not while I’m still alive. ” He swore.

“No, please.” Kleo quickly sang out, seeing the commander about to settle down his anger on the young man by hitting him for a second time.

“Don’t hurt the prince,” Kleo pleaded.

As if being stopped, the commander swung around and looked at him.

“The prince?” he asked, his gaze having a mixed expression: menace succeeded by a visible incredulity.

“He’s not the king,” Kleo revealed.

“If he’s not the king, then who is he?” the commander demanded, confused.

Kleo delayed his response.

“Answer me!” the commander threatened, impatiently.

“He’s the king’s younger brother,” Kleo revealed further, looking at the young man, the prince, apologetically.

The commander curled his lips into a menacing smile. “The king’s younger brother,” he restated, sauntering towards him.

“It’s not what you think,” Kleo explained, his voice quivering as the commander walked even closer.

He stopped a few inches in front of him.

“Do you know what I think?” he asked him softly, the menacing smile still over his face.

Kleo shook his head in fear, saying a short "No" as an answer.

“I’ll save you the stress then,” said the commander, tugging out a short dagger from his leg boot.

Closing the distance between them, he aggressively grabbed his chin. “Do you really know what I think?” he asked him once again, leisurely tracing the sharp tip of the blade on his throat, downwards his chest, forcing an icy shiver down his spine.

“No, I don't,” Kleo reaffirmed. He had spoken with the most audible tone his voice could carry, but the words came out as a tiny whisper.

The commander laughed.

“I don’t think of anything,” he quickly stopped laughing to say, his face changing into a more serious look.

“But, the fact that you’re a liar!” he finished, then stabbed him, twisting the blade inside his stomach.

His friend stabbed. The prince exclaimed a loud “Nooo...”, horrified.

Taking the dagger out, the commander cleaned off the blood stern on the prince’s dress, laughing more mockingly.

“Be sure to die in my hands today.” The prince swore deeply, declaring to the commander.

“Let’s watch and see, hahaha,” he scorned, not feeling bothered at all.

“My prince, help me.” Kleo whimpered, blood outflowing from his stomach and his mouth.

Seeing how helpless he looked, the prince grew angrier. He struggled to liberate himself from the tree, and when he couldn’t, he used his leg.

Having kicked the commander, he fell to the ground, hitting his head against a stone.

There was tension in the atmosphere as his men took their chances to react to his attempt on him.

Seeing the incoming axe thrown at him, the prince was able to dodge his head. It clashed against the tree, cutting the rope instead - setting him free.

Picking up the axe, he threw it against another. It ripped his head apart. With the same energy, he fought them tirelessly till he was able to kill them all, except for the commander, who lay on the ground, his head bleeding.

“Don’t come close to me!” the commander warned, holding out his dagger in defense. There was fear in his eyes as the prince came towards him.

“I told you, you’re going to die in my hands today” he reminded, not with a smile. His gaze was as dark as the fuse in his heart.

…

“Please run!” a passing whisper suddenly came around my ear, then died away shortly after.

Wait! Am I still alive? No, yes, no! I don’t think so. It’s clear that I am dead already. If not, what’ll explain the heavy weight holding me up? During the period when the arrows were flying into the hall, I felt a weight suddenly rise from my arms and some hands holding me closely.

How do you explain… Hold on!

Upon opening my eyes, I found Irene’s head resting over my shoulder, her hands wrapping around me in a close hug.

She is still alive? I mean, actually not dead? I paused for a while to understand the mystery, but then the answer dawned on me. She’s alive! I knew it. I knew she was not going to die and leave me behind in his cruel world.

Indisputablely, no one can hug another except for those who still have life and impulse flowing through their veins.

Excited, I wanted to embrace her more, but my hands stumbled on something behind her back... arrows. Several arrows, and they badly punctured her body.

Gently wrenching her body out, I saw she was really dead. And obviously, she died saving me with the least opportunity she had at life, or else, I would’ve been injured or perhaps, dead by now.

“My lorddd!” I started to cry again, my heart ripping apart again.

How I wish I had died along with her, in the process of this whole thing. All I need at this very moment is to die and end all these pains, all these sorrows, and despair. It’s clear to me that the heavens created me without knowing about my existence.

It’s evident that God doesn’t care about my joy and happiness because if he truly did, he wouldn’t have let the only one that gives me joy die.

Growing up, all that comes my way is pains, coming upon pains all the time. My mother is dead and the only woman who sacrificed all in her to see that I don’t lack in the areas that require motherly love has also left me.

While I was lamenting, I began to hear the clicking sound of conflicting blades outside the hall.

“Please follow me!” I heard General Rometrius urging the guests with loud shouts. He stood at the entrance of a hidden door. And the door must lead down to the underground tunnel that leads outside the palace.

I once overheard my father talking to someone about it. It was built along with the palace castle for critical moments like this, as an escape route out of the palace whenever it’s under attack.

The guests. Blankly gazing around, I felt a hard stab in my chest. The guests were themselves in despair, some dead, some injured, indistinctively moaning in pain, and a lot of them crying over their loved ones.

And to even think that all this happened on the day of my marriage, I felt more shattered, completely shattered, that I wished for the floor to carve open and swallow me.

“I’m sorry for your loss, but you must come with us,” General Rometrius urged the guests further.

“Rosia, Rosia!” Another husky voice, which I recognized, replaced his voice. It belonged to my father, the king. And soon, he was before me, towering above me with his height.

I could see a deep cut in his shoulders, and also, I could see he had taken up a sword to fight his enemies. Yes, his enemies, and that includes me.

And barely, I could look directly at his face, but with the little glimpse that was able to fall on it, I saw his expression was rather empty.

“Here you're,” he said as his hands made a movement. And before I knew it, his sword was around my neck.