The comfort of lounging was hard to wear off. Prince lifted himself slightly, and leaned all over the bed rest and the comfy cushions. Sunrays, thin and filtered, were giving just enough warmth in the slightly-cold Autumn, and this made him add another smart achievement to his mental rolodex. He was the one who ordered this high-window design after all.

The schooling was over. He returned back just yesterday night, and man he had the sleep of his life. Not like he didn’t sleep well back at the academy. It was more of a psychological relaxation.

I topped it all, so I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t bother me for a month. Right? He rummaged inside his mind, trying to think of all the possible meetings with his no nonsense father.

I’m gonna kill the messenger if he sends for me today. He added inside his thoughts, as his neck swayed sideways, to and fro. He then proceeded to reach out for the phone lying over the bedside table and ordered for a pizza. Forgetting the exhaustion, he decided to freshen up for properly receiving the treat.

The doorbell sound rang in his room, to which he responded, “Come in!”. The door opened at his response and a young man entered with a catering table. Prince gave him a slight look and as their eyes met, he pointed his finger towards the floor beside him.

“Of course sir.” He nodded slightly acknowledging the Prince’s request, and proceeded to carefully place it beside him.

He was going to open the meal, but Prince refused with a hand gesture and the young man left.

Jason, huh? Prince registered him in his mind. All the servants tag a nameplate, so getting the name wasn’t hard. But this was his second time seeing him. Yesterday night, he was too tired to notice much, but his wide smile was something he didn’t forget. I hope he doesn’t turn out to be a spy and we don’t have to kill him. Seems like an okay dude.

To move out of these paranoid thoughts, he decided to open the lid of that cheese-filled pizza, and Oh! What smell! He exclaimed internally. He wasn’t a foodie, but cheese, for heaven’s sake, was something he could eat with anything.

He was just wearing a towel. Perfectly showing how comfortable he was with his criminally slick body. And he had picked up the pizza to take a bite, choosing not to care about putting on the shirt and pants lying just before him. He could, definitely could, but there is no rule to not eat wearing a towel. And the servants always close the door behind them.

Wait, close the door! Prince stopped the pizza of crispy crust and melted-cheese fillings halfway, and exclaimed. If he is trained by our system, there is no way he can forget sth like this, but if he is from the outside…

He put the hot slice down, and moved towards the door. He reached for the handle and put some force. It’s locked. He thought, still looking at the door. He turned the lock around from the inside and opened the door. His eyes ran throughout the hallway, but Jason was nowhere.

I heard the last one got caught like this. Guess they aren’t gonna make the same mistake again, if I am thinking right of course. He gave a light, self-deprecating chuckle and closed the door.

He rushed back to the pizza and luckily, it hadn’t gone cold. There was still enough warmth to it — though, he would have eaten it for the cheese anyway. He lifted the slice which was almost on the verge of dropping the thick cheese, and had just put it in his mouth, taking a bite. His phone, lying nonchalantly on the bedside table, rang up.

He proceeded to stretch the pizza out for a bite, wanting to gobble it all up, and turned to his phone, looking at the incoming call. What? Head butler!? Ahh! He almost spat out his bite, as he quickly took a bite and put the pizza back on the platter. He lifted the phone and answered it.

“Good morning, sir. Congratulations for such glamorous results.” The same old, murky voice came through, and Prince bit his lip.

This shitty old man.

“You didn’t come here to personally receive me? I guess it’s not something important. I’m gonna hang up now.”

“Wait!” The voice on the other side, lost its composure, almost squeaking out, as the sound of light cough came through and it continued, “I was involved in important businesses, Sir. And I have already sent someone to receive you. Your father wants to meet you today. We have been preparing the food since morning under his command, so I would recommend you not eating anything much.”

“Should I starve then?” Prince scoffed.

“Oh no, Sir, I wouldn’t dare say that. I was —” And Prince cut the call off. He hated such pretentious nonsense or perhaps, it was more about how he couldn’t eat pizza, and he couldn’t rest a single day after his arrival, and he couldn’t kill the old man.

I’m sure he intentionally avoided receiving me today. Sly nonsense he is.

The prince continued to eat the pizza, and gobbled it all up before someone came to receive him. He didn’t have anything to take, so he ordered the butler to not prepare the dinner for him and left for his father’s place.

He wasn’t a gaming guy, and that driving guy, Max, didn’t seem to stand out at all. Black, formal clothing, and average face. He should be the face of the hospitality course or sth. Prince grumbled internally.

It was a long ride, and the comfort of the ride had started to bring out the exhaustion. He was resting himself on the seat rest, under the influence of some silent, running thoughts when a red nerve popped on the side of neck.

His hand instinctively drew over his neck, covering the popping vein. His body lurched forward in discomfort, and his face grimaced.

“Max, quickly stop at the closest hotel.”

Max responded professionally, as he looked at Prince from the front mirror. Witnessing the grimaced face of the prince, his eyes glinted with concern, as he pushed on the gas and heeded the command to the utmost. He wouldn’t dare do otherwise, especially not when he was facing the curse of the blooded.

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Max’s eyes monitoring the sideways of the road, and the map — moving to and fro. His ears hearing disgruntled, yet maturely muffled breaths of the prince. Max eyed his water bottle lying beside, wanting to give it to the prince but he couldn’t bother him much.

He didn’t turn back, but with some professional sympathy, said, “Sir, we will reach the hotel in a minute and it is luckily our branch.” And as he expected, there wasn’t any response from the prince’s side. He gave another look at the prince from his front mirror, and carefully speeded to the hotel.

As soon as they reached the hotel, Max quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and rushed to open the door. But he halted abruptly as he saw Prince, holding a white, silk handkerchief on the side of neck. His face was blank, and his eyes were looking fierce. Fierce enough to halt Max on his tracks.

Prince began to escort himself to the door, not waiting for Max. As Max quickly followed behind, a bit nervous, yet frustrated at his vivid show of unprofessionalism. The guards recognised the prince immediately, and the receptionist gave a double look at the grand photo before him, as he rushed to receive him. Soon, the manager followed suit when he was informed.

Prince didn’t talk, and others didn’t mind. Max also didn’t have to talk much, but just kept others, especially the guests at a slight distance, as he escorted Prince to a deluxe room. Prince entered the room, and Max unadvisedly shut the door, behind the prince.

Ughh! Shit it hurts! He exclaimed helplessly. Not wasting time, he moved to the bathroom, and stood before the mirror. Revealing his neck, he could see it blackening, and the skin arching back as if that part of the neck was failing to stand as it was. He could smell a faint, pungent smell. Is it rotting!?

“You will have to come to me. I will teach you something important.” He remembered his father’s words. It wasn’t long ago when he last talked to him. Perhaps, the mid of june, in his summer holidays.

“You can tell me now.”

“No.” His father replied in his heavy voice, filled with the usual sense of disdain. Not that he was wanting to exhibit that disdain or either hide it. His voice and gesture were permeated with it, as if that was all you could receive.

“And speak more curtly,” he added, “you aren’t even awakened yet.”

And he retracted his way out of the room. Just the same way. The butler and him. The only difference was that the butler was now closer to the door, unlike when they had entered.

Prince knew he should visit his father. He guessed enough that his father must have already known this was gonna happen. But as to how he didn’t tell him, he didn’t want to go. He wanted to let this rot. But this gradually was seeping away from him, and he let himself get compromised again. He couldn’t stand the pain anymore.

Under the hidden, dying sun — suffocating under the blanket of white and grey clouds. Max was driving and Prince was lying in the back. Half the side of his neck, bandaged. He could smell a weird smell. A mix of medicative scent with that of death. Something morbid. And none knew better, just how much it hurt to handle the death of your own. Half death, but it was already making it hard for him to breathe. He could feel the insides of his neck rotting.

They'd done the bigger part of the journey already, so it didn’t take them long to reach their destination. The gates opened to their welcome, as the car travelled through the driveway. Max again, hurried out to receive him, this time, Prince couldn’t get out by himself. As they moved forward, Max intended to give his shoulder for support, seeing Prince trudge through, but Prince refused.

“Sir, You took quite a long time.” The head butler said, standing just near the gate of the mansion. His words sounded elegant but his face remained grimace. This face, as Prince had seen, only smiled when his father used to give him a hard time. Of course, a very subtle smile.

“I think you wouldn’t care if I didn’t come at all, uncle.” Prince said, hitting him with a smirk. His jaw muscles were shivering under his skin. The muscles of his neck had rotten significantly, so maintaining his demeanour was hard.

Listening to Prince smirk and call him Uncle, the head butler chuckled lightly. In his usual, knowing fashion. He had married his naive aunt, making her fall in love, and cunningly impressed his father who never batted an eye to unawakeneds like him. He had backings, unlike Prince who was living off of his father for only one reason — his rare blood. It was gambling to mess with this guy, but Prince wholly hated his guts.

“I would take Max to escort me.” Prince said, “I don’t want my uncle to hear the concerning talks I have with my father. Especially if they reach my aunt. She would be worried.”

“I know the things that are not to be said, Prince.” The head butler said. His smile dropped, as his brows unknowingly furrowed.

“I know. That’s why you could reach here. You hide yourself well.” Prince added, closing in the distance between them, as he stood beside him.

Then he walked past him, unapologetic. As he gestured towards Max, not looking back. “Come, Max. Escort me. I haven’t been here after the renovations.”

Max gave the head butler a look, as he tacitly allowed him to escort the prince.

After a sweet amount of walking, they arrived at his father’s cabin. Max showed him the door and turned the other way, leaving. Prince walked to the door and knocked, as he heard his father’s indifferent voice. “Come in.” And he entered.

Prince had half-closed the door, but he spoke up, “Why is awakening rotting my neck?”

“You figured it was awakening? I guess you should at least do that.” His father said, still looking at his desktop which was completely hiding his face. Not like Prince had much interest in seeing it.

“How do I stop this?” Prince questioned again. Internally, desperate for the answer.

“You can’t. It will only heal once you reach the next stage. If u can do that in two days that is.” His father replied. His fingers ticking over the keyboard, and the sound of clicks, was now hurting Prince’s ears.

“Then how can I advance? Please, can you tell me.” Prince clutched his bandaged neck with his handkerchief. Desperately trying to get rid of the pain. Even if just for a moment.

“You will need to explore the ancient ruins, find the sacrifice you need, somehow, and then do the sacrifice.”

“But, I will die before that! It fucking hurts right now.”

His father swivelled the monitor to the side. Looking at Prince, with his blank, mechanical glare. He lurched forwards, resting his hands over the table. And Prince, subconsciously backed from his stance.

“And this is how you will learn. Remember this pain.” His father spoke, but for some reason, these words were hurting him more than the pain itself. It was a moment of great irony as a figure who is supposed to protect him, was besting him. He knew he didn’t care. He had left such needs long ago. Yet in this moment of vulnerability, he wished someone could help.

“A professional will arrive in an hour. They will help you awaken. Until then bear the pain.”

His hand raised over the monitor as he signalled Prince towards the door. “Get out, and they will explain the rest. ”

Prince silently exited the room, and closed the door shut behind him. Nobody would care if he lived, or died did he not have the rareness. He let out a light, mocking laugh feeling the heaviness in his throat numb it further and further — twisting and wriggling it, from the inside.

He got scared of pain. He was scared he was going to die. He didn’t want to face this horrific, nightmarish pain seeping into every part of his life, and slowly halt his breath. But if I die, they are going to enjoy it. Aren’t they? Prince thought, walking over the spread out carpet in soft comfort. My cousins, my aunts, or uncles. Perhaps father would lose a piece, so he’d feel sad or more like disappointed.

If it fucks up their life, I might as well live through. Probus conceived, from the depths of his will. Still chuckling, under the pungent, rotting smell.