Lor clenched the fur cloak at her neck, frightened by the darkness surrounding the carriage. The shadow encumbered terrain caused blood-curdling assumptions of what lurked beyond the shadowed trees and bushels, particularly, the Valmorin. She’d never forget the terrifying display from earlier. Ghastly thing. A worry came to mind just then. Would they encounter one along the way?

Dom’s warm hands palmed Lor’s, bringing them low, her darkest fears distracted by such affection. His very appearance provided reassurance, though it could not be nothing short of resentful. With that, a pitied sigh emitted from the princess. Here sat the man who jumped to her beck and call, attending a venturous journey he feigned. The woman he loved would soon marry a vampire.

“You’re freezing,” said Dom, rubbing friction on the backs of Lor’s hands. If he was upset, he certainly didn’t show it. His worried eyes gleamed with care when the carriage hit a hard turn that allowed the moonlight to peek through the window. “Do you want my coat?”

“It’s fine,” she said with a stiff grin. I’m not worthy of your coat or your affection.

“Are you okay? I mean—course’ you’re not.” Dom stood from his seat and collapsed beside her. “I didn’t think your father would send you away and tonight. Things are moving so fast. Have you even considered what I said about—” His volume dropped to a whisper. “Running away?”

And there it was. The question from earlier, unsettling the small atmosphere that wheeled them along the dirt path. This topic made Lor feel unworthy. The answer, daggerous words bound to plunge the most feeble-hearted.

“I have.” A brief moment of silence torched the boiling pot, Dom’s impatience spilling over on his face. “I can’t. I will uphold the king’s wishes.”

“Right.” His response leaped out, unfitting to what was clearly there, sullenness. The very essence of it wilted his lips and shoulders like a flower that had been deprived of water for days. Again a pitied sigh on Lor’s account. Something in him begged for redemption. She noticed his eyes turn to slits, as if an evil alternate ego replaced the kindhearted man who had clearly evaporated. Still, a mellow tone. “So you want to live among vampires? Marry one? What about us?”

“It’s not like that. A marriage will end the war. Don’t you want it to end? You’re a soldier. Don’t you want their support for the dangers that lie ahead?”

“This isn’t you, Loretta. It’s your father talking right now. I am offering you a safe route out of this country. I know you don’t want this. If we leave now, we’ll have a chance.”

“Even if I agreed, my father will find us. He’d take his time flanking you for kidnapping his daughter. That’s how he’ll word it.”

“It’s worth the risk. As long as I get you away from here, I don’t care if it puts a target on my back.”

“Just stop it! You will always be my…..friend who I care for and love. But I must fulfill my duty.” With all her might, she cocooned the words that nearly slipped out, providing a mild version of the truth.

Please don’t pull it out of me. You wouldn’t be able to handle how I really feel.

Dom maneuvered to the opposite seat crossing his arms. With a sunken hunch, the floor, a riveting pit of darkness, swallowed his gaze, in some sort, flourishing the anger clenched in his fist. He chuckled, an unwanted grin forming. “Friend? Finally a title?” A sardonic grin flashed across his face, eyes blackened shards stifling Lor. “You just a silly girl who allows her father to boss her around. You hide in the shadows, appearing when he calls. If that’s duty to you, you’re lost. Now look at you, agreeing to marry a monster instead of fleeing. Aren’t you tired of boring the weight of your father? Think for yourself for a change. Your lack of whit makes you unbearable at times.” Just like that, his gaze swooped back to the darkness below.

His remark added pressure to what Lor tried to encapsulate, but he was trying her patience. Lack of whit? I’m not in love with you and I do not wish to go with you, granting false hope on some fairy tale you wish to conjure. It didn’t take father for me to come up with that one.

Did he need a detailed description of a princess’s title? Or perhaps a reminder of what the role entailed whether the king called the shots or not? He was lucky she granted time for their forbidden encounters in the first place. Otherwise, on normal days, he remained a singular grain of rice, insignificant in comparison to her crown, a paddy field of rich jasmine. He was one man against an entire country who relied on this union. At any chance she could showcase influence, whether or not on Leonebus’s orders, she would, and with honor. Here he was, trying to mock her for it.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

With eyes locked to the man who wouldn’t dare meet her gaze, she snapped back. “I am a princess above all else and you, a loyal subject. Need I remind you of YOUR duty?” To be fair, she agreed that her actions thereafter emanated Leonebus, the very realm of his thinking spewing out. The king gave her an order and she’d live up to it with no regret. All a front to hide the silent screams for freedom that clawed at the crown she wore with grace.

Oh, how an escape to some distant land would be so grand. She’d do it alone if granted the opportunity, but eventually Leonebus would track her down, a reminder of how far his power stretched. And what punishment could be fitting for something so treacherous as regression toward peace? That wouldn’t matter since the Valmorin would have already clawed their way through the land leaving a bloody trail of dead bodies. Running away from the royal ranks could only be a daydream.

She opened her mouth to deepen the wounds of her antagonist, but the carriage hit a pothole causing Lor’s crown to tilt. She twirled it back in place. The diamond encrusted piece had golden arches that triangulated upward like prison bars, the wearer, its prisoner. She sought to punish him for the reminder of how she was everything but free. Dom hadn’t the slightest clue about the royal regime, the toils of sacrifice to gain hierarchy. Formulating treaties with enemies, yielding one’s own dignity to strengthen ranks, and wedding those same vultures.

Lor hadn’t much experience in the perils that came with ruling. She gained some understanding of it by watching Leonebus through the years. He’d pummel through the cross fires like a God who couldn’t be touched, his throne untainted.

And now, he passed the torch to his daughter, a living testament of imperial succession. For the slightest bit, a faint scoff rumbled from her mouth while leering Dom up and down. The only thing he knew how to do, sling a sword in unison with the brigade he was assigned to.

Then, finally, the unnerving truth. “You think I’d toss my crown aside for you? I’m going to be wedded to a prince who is equally yolked compared to a soldier who has nothing to offer. This marriage will bring peace. While a union between you and I bares no fruit. Your armor holds no significance. Not your badges or your sword, all provided to you, not by you. You are a loyal servant for the king, like many others, who would be happy to take your head off in his honor just by your idea of wisping me away. You couldn’t protect me from my father even if you tried.”

Lor took no pleasure in deepening a wound that had no undone. It began to fester into bitterness tearing through his veins, materializing into the darkest of thoughts. For a moment, a flinch popped his shoulder upward as if he’d change into the beast that yearned to come out.

Perhaps, this is how things should end, him hating me. It will only make it easier for him to move on. I deserve it for bringing this monstrous side out him. This isn’t you, Dom.

She decided to say nothing more for the slightest comment could set him off. What good would it do for her or him if he changed into a full formed minx? He’d probably maul her neck until lifeless and suffer a worse fate by the troops trotting atop their horses, roaming head and tail. Lor was certain. Keep quiet so we both can get out of this alive.

There became a subtle urge of sorrow yearning to spill out. Dom appeared defeated, broken, and enraged all at once. One thing a women shall never do, tear apart a man’s ego. His armor and sword had nothing to do with the man she knew him to be, romantic and gentle. She nearly ordered a rekindle, longing to say sorry. Was that a risky power play that would give his alter ego the nudge to materialize.

She already compromised safety the moment she made herself his target. If he’d turn, she was done for. Let things be how they are. Tears curved around her eyeballs as she grasped the ending of their friendship, they spilled down her cheeks, icy from the breeze. A tinge of frost festered when Dom spoke again. The coldness of it made the princess shiver. Not a jacket, could bring back the warmth between them.

“When the prince fucks you on your wedding night, you will truly become what everyone is too scared to say to your face, a whore. You call it duty. I say it’s because you actually want it. Lets be honest, Loretta, Neltavio is charming, isn’t he? His cunning nature drew you in the moment he came to your room last night. I saw your reaction when he stared into your eyes. Your knees buckled. I could sense your heightened heart rate. Your desire, like I never existed. It’s clear to me why you must go.”

By the force of Dom’s boot, the carriage door flew open causing Lor to nearly jolt from the seat. He yelled out to the coachman, “WAIT UP!” When the wheels slowed, he hopped to the ground creating a dirt cloud. She thought he’d flee just then, but he slammed the carriage door shut and joined the other soldiers ahead.

Stillness stiffened her shoulders and spine to a T. Her mouth rounded in shock by all he said, his sudden exit. Was he watching us the entire time last night? What did he think he saw between us? Unless—

Lor vividly remembered the prince standing so close, she could feel his heated breaths. She’d never forget his tranquil gaze, those two wondrous eyes that drew her in. Then, his intrusive words snaked around her legs and arms holding them wrought. They slithered in the hidden depths of her mind, prying out desire. She felt stuck as if time didn’t exist, the only prevalent motion, the heat growing between her thighs.

His words became a romantic number, a tune that made her shiver. Underneath all of your layers of entitlement, there’s a girl whose been yearning to be put in her place, thirsting for the right man to do it. She bit her lip just then, scoffing to follow up on the atrocity of her involuntary response. If this is the way she acted last night, she understood Dom’s animosity.

But it wasn’t even that! He’s mistaken. I was just—just full anxiety is all. Even now.

Did Dom think he witnessed Lor’s vulnerability first hand, invoked by a vampire? The same vulnerability he claimed she deprived him of? With the edges of her fingers, she smudged her temples where a piercing headache formed. Great. He thinks I’m attracted to the prince.

There was validity in Dom’s anger. The woman he loved had been ripped away from his arms by a wavering tide, in this case, Prince Nel. Lor felt awful about everything. The way things ended. Their spewing of insults which got them to this point. It was sad to experience the end of something so sacred.

As the vehicle rolled along, quicker now, the princess’s eyes veered out the window stifled by the swallowing shade of pitch black. The gawking crows and rustling bushes vibrated every nerve in her body. She yanked the curtain shut on both sides, leaned back against the cushion, and took a great amount of air in her lungs. She closed her eyes wondering when the trip would end.