One hour ago…
He saw the sunlight for the first time since he has gotten conscious chained to the wall. The demons pulled him at his hardest by the chains; although it would not make any difference to him, they never stop trying. He was aware of that everyone was staring at him as if some kind of exotic creature. There was something different about him, other than just his apparent features.
A bustling place, a cobbled street with stalls and shops everywhere in his line of sight, with demons busy coming and going and also humans; the difference was most of the humans were in chains like him. Some were being either whipped or beaten. What a disgusting place this was.
The voice coming from his right interrupted his trail of thoughts. “Don’t be so happy yet,” taunts the demon, “We will be waiting for you, pretty boy, when she doesn’t want you anymore.” The other two demons howl as if this was some kind of inside joke he wouldn’t understand. What a nuisance.
A carriage with an iron cage was waiting for him; they were drawn by strange creatures that have humanoid bodies, hunching and eyeing for passersby as if their meat, and twisted faces with big ears, and bony wings.
And there was that demon girl, a princess they said, standing by the side of the carriage which would transport him to her place inside the cage as if he was some animal. She must be just like other demons, so it seemed to him, buying slaves and treating them as mindless properties. Maybe she needed some lessons about kindness and equality, and maybe he would teach her if he had the chance in the future. He could not deny that she was quite alluring.
He did not bother attempting to escape; it would be pointless at this point. He decided he had to bide his time. She was giving him full attention and the demon beside him seems to be irked by this. A whip lands on his back and he smirked; this was nothing after they had been using his body as a chopping board. Somehow he thought he was already used to these kinds of tortures and torments even before he woke up in that dungeon, although he had no clue why. Had he always been a slave? If so, he must be from somewhere else.
She commanded them to stop before throwing a glare at him and flew away with her guards. He wondered what that glare was about.
He entered the iron cage without making a fuss. Why bother! The creatures soared into the air, lifting the cage along with them. It was not a most comfortable trip, what with the carriage moving left and right, and up and down. He had to hold on to the bars tightly not to get thrown around.
Guards alongside it, the carriage flew overcrowded streets, low brick buildings, between tall stone towers, past some demons in the air. A fortress in the middle of the city, he could not see past beyond the too-high walls. As they were getting nearer to it, he could see the crimson flags and armored demons with bows ready standing by on the walls. The palace, this was where he was being brought into.
The carriage swept down to the ground, landing at the gate. Guards exchanged words, and he only caught, “Transport to the Purple Garden. Princess…”
Past towers and castles within different hedged gardens, the carriage arrived at its ultimate destination. A princess she was. He needed to start from somewhere, and she looked like a delightful start to him.
He stands at the door, surrounded by guards and looking unabashed despite the state he is in. He has such intense eyes, golden, like molten fire. Not to mention he looks so beautiful. Elysia wills herself not to look at his torso, which is covered by nothing.
“Now I get why you bought a slave out of character. You bought yourself a treat!” Clara whispers to Elysia’s ears.
Thankfully, no one else seems to have heard that bit. “What… I didn’t…” Elysia stutters, almost blushing. She clears her throat to hide her expression. “Please leave him with me,” she directs to the guards, her voice sounding a little cracked to her ears. What’s wrong with her?
One guard steps forward before leaving and hands her something. It is a velvet pouch, inside is a set of keys. Clara takes to leave along with the guards, leaving him with her alone.
Right. Now she will have to free his restraints on her own since she has dismissed the guards. “Please come inside.”
After entering the room, he settles himself down in a nearby chair without her invitation, his chains clanking. At this, she wants to raise her eyebrows a little, but well, it doesn’t matter.
“I am–I am going to open the locks.”
“Thanks, mistress,” he purrs from his seat, now making himself as comfortable as he can.
Now she can’t hide her blush anymore. She clears her throat again, “Um… you don’t have to call me mistress.”
She steps closer to him. Since he is sitting, she would have to bend down to unlock the restraints, which might lead to an awkward position.
“Can you stand up? That would make this easier I think.”
“Alright.” He stands up and now they are inches apart. He is towering over her even though she is not short. Suddenly her breathing faster, she can’t help looking up at him. His lashes are so long and dark, they are framing his golden eyes; maybe his straight nose is the most beautiful on his face, or maybe his lips shaped like a cupid bow or maybe his jaws.
“Aren’t you freeing me from these things, sweetheart?” His voice is low, the whisper nearly startling her, making her embarrassed. She was staring at him. She thinks his breathing gets louder and deeper.
Trying hard to stop her eyes going to his muscles glistened with sweat, she finds the key to the lock at his wrists. It opens at the second attempt.
She hands him the keys before going back to her seat. “I think you might need some shirt,” she mumbles out more to say something than anything else. “Do I?” is his response, removing the rest of the manacles and chains. “I don’t think you have told me your name,” Elysia inquires, now with a good distance between them. He lounges back on his chair, still shirtless. He really needs a shirt, she can’t help thinking. “What is yours?” Elysia is caught off guard by his question. “What?” “Your name, sweetheart,” he answers reprimandingly, “You should say your name first. It’s the courtesy, isn’t it?” Her temper rises, “Don’t call me sweetheart!” Who is he to reprimand her and to call her sweetheart, no matter how attractive he is? This guy doesn’t understand the situation he is in. She was thinking to secretly free him, if possible—it is a great risk to do so, probably dangerous, becaus
The castle stands tall, proud and foreboding, like a mountain, at the center of the complex of gardens, surrounded by rectangular towers and smaller buildings in a different part of the palace grounds, similar to the king is being bowed down by his subjects. “I have one question, my son,” says the king from his throne on the dais, fixing his sitting posture. The cavernous room is empty except for three, the king, his son, and his newest consort already exiting the room, her glittering sheer gown sweeping and reflecting on the smooth inky floor in her wake. “Anything, sir,” responds Kannax standing at the foot of the dais. “I heard about a rebel movement that was happening under my nose. Why didn’t you report that to me?” The king drops his hands on the arms of the throne, which looks to be cut out of one huge stone, raw and bland like other decorations in the room and the room itself. With a controlled voice, the prince replies slowly, “Rebel movement
On a normal day, if she happens to wake up early in the morning, she goes to the dining room to have a human breakfast and then walks in the garden before she has the normal breakfast. But today is different. In her white nightgown and her messy hair spreading over her shoulders, she heads to the open window that looks over the garden. The cool morning breeze brushes her thin cloth, chilling her; she hugs herself with her black wings.Knockings come from the closed door of her parlor.“May I come in, your highness?” asks Clara from the other side of the door.“Come in.” There must be someone nearby, given how she is addressing.Clara enters the room with a tray, pushing the door open. On the tray are a steaming crystal cup, a dish of sweet pastries, other items including a blood bottle, and an extra item, which is a folded paper. The announcement.“Why is this only for me? Have you had your breakfast?
“I thought I’d take all of this with me to the grave. I intended to never tell you, Elysia, but it seems I can’t avoid this.”Within the few seconds’ break of her mother talking, the chamber is so quiet that the breathing sounds are so loud to Elysia’s ears.“He was from the Ikcendas.” The consort looks away.“From the East?”“As our kingdom and the East had a friendly relationship during those years, our two kingdoms exchanged diplomatic gifts and messages regularly. Children only know humans with magical abilities live in the East, but it is not strictly true. There are ordinary humans, humans with magical powers, and lastly the ones more than humans: they are the royal family and some highest nobles.”“Aside from being an ambassador, he was a distant relative of the royal family. Your father and I, it was love at first sight, but still, we kept our distance during his visits for more than a hundred years. We did nothing more than having friendly
There was no way she was visible; she had even passed guards in the past. How did this happen? If she became visible here, she would be in trouble; her people can’t use magic. Whoever interrupted her is now holding her down on her back, her hands in the tight grip of his—she thinks it is a man as she can see from the corner of her eyes. Her stomach on the grass, Elysia struggles hard, trying to break free. Every attempt of hers, however, is useless.“Princess?” he sounds amazed. It’s him! Her spell must have stopped working. She struggles harder. “Get off of me!!!”He loosens his grip, but he bends down and whispers, “No.” His warm breath tickles her ear.“What do you mean “No”?” While she is furious, she still notices his body heat which is almost enveloping her.“So you have a little secret. I don’t think this is usual for you people to have this type of trick.”“Let me go! Do you want everyone to see us in this state?!” Elysia
The coldness seeps into her wings; with a start, she comes to catch how she has been behaving. Why was she acting like a coward? She will not let him intimidate her this way.“What do you want?” she asks again, sternly this time, partly to cover her breathlessness which makes no sense to her. Imitating her mother’s authoritative voice talking to slaves, she continues, “Do you want freedom?”It might be her imagination, but Elysia thinks she just saw his eyes flashed with some emotion. Anger? When she blinks again, it has gone. She has expected him to follow her, in an attempt to dominate her. Instead, he turns around and takes leisure steps in the opposite direction. He stops to stare at one part of the wall. There is nothing special on that side, no decorations, even clear of wardrobes.“Doesn’t everyone desire freedom?” he questions back with a coldness in his voice. Without waiting for her, he answers h
He wakes up with a headache after a restless sleep. He remembers he had a strange dream, but can’t recall what it was about. Getting down from the bed, he notices he is wearing nothing. There across the bed and the floor, his clothes were scattered around. He doesn’t remember removing his clothes, and wonders why he has done so in his sleep. He opened the window; the dawn had not arrived. Yesterday morning, even earlier than this, something caused him to jolt from his sleep in the tiny room near the kitchen. Despite the complete darkness and total silence at the moment, he immediately knew someone else was inside the room with him. The door had no lock; however carefully it had been opened, he must have heard it, and that must have woken him up. Something came to touch his chest, an
“What’s wrong with your memory?” His admission surprises Elysia.Standing face to face on the narrow cobbled path, he regards her silently, as if he is trying to see inside her head. Birds are chirping on the nearby hawthorn tree. “I guess there is no harm in telling you this. Since I own your life,” he warns, his thumb rubbing his lower lip slowly.“You don’t own my life!” she glares at him.Ignoring her outburst, he continues, “Everything is wrong. I don’t even know who I am as I only have a few-day worth of memory. That’s why I need something that can make me remember everything I must have forgotten.”Bewildered, her fury has disappeared. His gaze is on the horizon. The wind ruffles his hair and the morning sun makes something shine bright gold; only now she notices some golden strands mixing in the black.She doesn’t know how to respond to this confession. Funnily en