The Black-Hearted Prince

Prince Donncahd did not look at her.

Not immediately, anyway.

He spoke quietly with some soldier of his, gaze flickering between that man and a map that spread out across the table.

From where she was standing...it looked eerily like a map of Aurania's capital city.

She'd only seen such a map in the book drawn to represent what the city looked like after it collapsed, but the general shape of it would obviously remain the same.

...Which meant Donncahd wasn't even subtle, was he?

She swallowed, gripping her hands at her side, and took a step forward.

She knew far more about Donncahd than she did pre-fall Aurania. And while there were really no prominent princesses in Auberon's Edge, she generally understood how a princess should act. Especially with Airie's behavior.

So.

She could just...

Maybe make a biting quip.

Or a more timid one.

She couldn't decide, but she opened her mouth anyway, determined to speak.

His red eyes flickered toward her.

His gaze felt like.

A nail gun.

A harpoon, even.

A physical force that pinned her in place and silenced her without a single word or even gesture.

"...You are Princess Airie?" He said finally.

It was more a statement than a question, but she knew the answer he was waiting for.

She nodded, and the guard behind her nudged her side.

"Ah. Y-Yes." She curtseyed. "I am. P-Pleased to meet you."

Rache lifted her eyes to Donncahd's.

For a brief moment, a flash of confusion rippled across his sharp features.

...Or maybe she just imagined that.

It was impossible to say for certain.

"Your highness, pardon." She continued, steeling herself and clinging to the brief strength that gave her. "But the journey from the castle has left me tired."

"It was only a few hours in a carriage." He squinted at her.

"...I am recovering from a sudden sickness."

It was true.

And she didn't have a better answer.

The man...

She'd read his description in Auberon's Edge.

It had gone out of its way to repeatedly underline was a huge man he was. Nearly seven foot tall. Broad. Muscular. Hands with slim fingers that somehow still looked as if they might be able to suffocate her simply by placing his palm on her face.

He would have been hauntingly beautiful if he weren't so powerful.

There were many descriptions of him from different characters in the book.

None of them truly did the imposing, cold man justice.

He almost looked like he was sculpted out of some kind of sandstone or marble, but with blood-red eyes, and long black hair that cascaded down his back in a way that felt...

Like it clashed.

His hair was so well maintained.

It was-

Odd.

Odd to focus on that hair.

But it meant not having to stare into those angry, hateful eyes of his.

After a long moment of silence, Donncahd released a soft breath. "Aurania has made itself a fragile princess."

Fragile.

She wondered about that.

There was an argument that Airie's refusal to face Donncahd herself was a sign of fragility.

But then...

Perhaps it was strength and wisdom, instead.

Rache. Couldn't say. A word. Anything she might say would only risk her tripping up and saying something that might get herself and Laine - back in the city - killed.

"Our doctor can handle your illness, then, I presume. Sleep in my tent." He jerked his head toward the back of the massive structure.

There was a partition in the back, likely separating his bedroll from the rest of the area.

Rache blinked and took a breath, "Your-?"

Careful.

Careful.

She had to control herself.

She was a princess, after all.

"My apologies, Your Highness, but before we are married...surely that would be inappropriate-"

Donncahd rolled his eyes and waved a hand. "I have no intention of breaking you in just yet, woman. Sidera is capable of honoring ceremony. Go and rest. You will be unmolested."

With that he turned away, focusing back on the maps that littered the tables.

The men in the room stared at her for a few moments before she realized she'd been dismissed, and hurried to the partition.

Rache stepped behind it and leaned heavily against a dresser which had been set up in the makeshift room releasing a heavy sigh as she reached up and clutched the sides of her head in both hands.

That.

That...

Her heart raced, and her ears rang.

She felt lightheaded.

Stress.

And exhaustion.

Her legs shook and she gripped the nightstand to keep herself from falling as she gingerly walked to the large bed in the room.

Everything.

All of the stress, the madness, the physical strain.

It was too much.

She'd been getting better, but this was...

She really was about to collapse. A few more moments and she might have done so in front of the prince and made everything a waste.

She was only so lucky that he was disgusted by her weakness and had, apparently, more important things to focus on than the bride he'd ostensibly come there to collect.

She gripped the blankets and sheets on the bed and fell into them, breathing in heavily, eyes clenched tight, letting the world fade to blackness.

She dreamed of home.

Somehow.

Some way.

Laine's comforting presence filled the space, even though Laine had never lived in that old world with her. She felt as if she fit right in.

A familiar song soothed her, drifting through the air in her dream.

The woman was humming an old tune.

Something Rache felt like she should know but.

Couldn't quite place.

A part of her wanted to ask Laine where it was from, where she'd heard of it.

But she didn't dare, because she knew if she tried, it would break the illusion, and that this dream was the only respite she could afford for herself.

So she stayed quiet and let the woman's warmth and comfort soak into her bones, until she slept a little easier.

***

When Rache awoke, it was to the sound of Donncahd's voice, somewhere in the distance, and a man's voice she didn't know responding in agreement.

She stirred and rubbed her eyes, pulling herself up in the bed.

For a moment, she was confused.

What time was it?

What day was it?

Where was she?

A sudden spike of panic made her jerk upward, heart pounding.

What was-

She-!

Her sudden movement drew Donncahd's attention.

He stared down at her with those impassive, red eyes.

"Are you a caught rabbit or a princess?"

She blinked rapidly, and shook her head. "I-..."

"You. Are Princess Airie of Aurania. Is that so?"

She bit her lip, and forced herself to nod.

"Then you have nothing to fear." His lips quirked up into a dry smile. "It is the rest of the world who should fear me, not my sworn bride."

That.

Was far less convincing than it should have been, when she knew what her ultimate fate would be, if she stayed with this man.

His eyes narrowed, and his smile turned sharper.

"Oh? The look on your face tells me you don't believe what I just said."

Rache straightened her back and tilted her chin up, struggling to hide the terror that lurked in her eyes.

"...And what if I did not?"

He observed her for a moment, and then shook his head.

He walked toward the door, and for a moment, she thought he'd just. Leave. Without saying anything.

But he stopped.

Right at the tent flap that led to the main section of the tent, he stopped and turned his head, just enough to speak.

"You'd be wiser than your family."