The Beauty of Mist, the Beast of Dawn {INDEFINITE HOLD}

Chapter 5: The Prince

I glared mercilessly at the man directly across the table from me. Mr. Russel Morris, or Sir Russel Morris as he preferred to be called, a man who was my inferior, had been granted permission from my father to treat me as his subordinate. And he had been all too eager to do so. For the past two hours, he had been using his power to torture me with etiquette lessons and ballroom dancing. When he saw that I had "absolutely no manners and grace whatsoever", he had guessed that I would not know anything about etiquette during mealtimes. Hence why we were sitting in the dining hall with a stack of dishes miles high and an array of utensils. 

If Russel Morris noticed my glaring, he did not let on like the "proper gentleman" he was. I could not stand the man.

"Luka," Russel Morris said as if it were perfectly acceptable to drop my title. "Did you hear what I just said?"

"No. I am sorry," I replied before adding a hasty, "sir."

"I said 'I want you to set the table properly, and once you are done, I want you to tell me what each item is and when and why it is used.' Now, that does not sound overly complicated, does it?"

"No, it does not," I agreed. Then I added, "Only, I do not know anything about the proper placements or uses of these items." I did, but I wanted to tick him off. I knew it was petty and that I was supposed to be much more dignified. However, I was feeling rather spiteful. My need for vengeance overrode all rationale, just as it always had.

Mr. Morris growled in frustration. "Do you have any good qualities going for you, Boy?"

"No. It is why they call me 'the Beast,'" I joked without humor.

He began to massage his temples. "Boy,  truly you must make some effort in something."

"Not unless it involves dueling. Verbally or physically—I am not too picky." I grinned on the inside and smirked on the outside. This was one of my favorite jokes, and I always delivered it perfectly as well.

Mr. Morris was neither impressed nor amused. In fact, he looked as if he were on the verge of rage. One last push would do it; I was certain.

"Choose your weapon," I said, my smirk growing. "Words or swords. I personally would choose a pair of knives, but apparently it does not look as kingly as a sword, you know? I must always choose the weapon that befits a king—"

"Enough!" He screeched. "I've had enough of you, Boy!" He roughly grabbed his belongings from where they sat beside him and stood.

"Sir!" one of the castle servants stumbled after Russel Morris. "You cannot just leave!"

"Can I? I have other clients closer to home. They pay just as much and give me the respect I deserve, unlike this worthless, bratty boy."

"But, sir," the servant protested, "who is to teach the boy etiquette and dancing? Surely there is no other more qualified for the position than you."

Sir Russel Morris turned gave me a distasteful look full of disgust and distain. He was all the way across the room, but I could feel his acrid hatred for me. 

He answered the servant, though his glower was still directed towards me. "You are indeed correct; there is no one more qualified than I. Alas, I find this insufferable brat to be too stubborn for even I to fix."

Too many 'I's, I thought gleefully. My satisfied smirk grew although it should not have. Intellect was not the same as maturity. I could almost hear my witch sighing. That thought only made my satisfaction grow.

Morris, noticing my ever-growing smirk, continued to rage. "See!" he pointed. "Look at the beastly expression! He cannot even stop himself like looking like a beast. I see no prince here, only a beast."

The words hurt. They would have stung more if not for the curse's effect.

"But, sir," the servant said yet again, "you—"

"Do not 'But sir' me again! I have better places to go and better people to see! So I say good day to you! I want never to see any of you again!" 

He stormed off. Moments later, he was gone, the servant still tripping in his wake. I was alone.

 I collapsed in my chair, relief and triumph overwhelming me. I was so overwhelmed that I lost all my senses. I did not hear the loud, marching footsteps as they approached the dining hall. I did not see or hear the doors as they were flung wide. I did not pay the whispered objections of the trailing servants any mind. However, I did regain my senses when my father's enraged face loomed directly in front of me.

"I passed Sir Morris on his way to the door," he said calmly though he was clearly struggling to remain controlled. "Do you have anything about this?"

I shrugged. "He deserved it."

My father turned to the castle servants who had followed him. "Get out!" he barked. "I need to speak with my son."

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"What were you thinking?" he bellowed once the room was void of the staff. "He was the only willing mentor I could find!"

"I was thinking," I began coolly, "that I wanted to see his face turn plum purple. It nearly did too."

"And you thought was a good idea? Never mind, I don't want to know."

"Why do I need these lessons anyway? They seem pointless."

"They are not pointless. You need to brush up on your etiquette as you so dramatically demonstrated today."

"Why? It isn't as if anyone will expect better of me. I am 'the Beast', remember?"

"Just because they call you 'the Beast' does not mean you should act as such. Must I remind you that you are still the Crown Prince of Valennia. If you want a suitable marriage, you must act respectable at least."

"Must I remind you," I muttered darkly.

"Hmm? Luka, speak up."

"Never mind. Why did you have to decide to start parenting now?"

My father looked as if I had just dealt him a physical blow. He even rocked back on his heels a bit. "I'm sorry?"

"Yes, you heard me right. Why now? Why this? What is it that you are not telling me? And do not pretend you do not know what I am talking about—I know you are hiding something. You always are."

My father's expression of hurt and bewilderment vanished, replaced by rage. "Prince Luka Christopher Ivan García of Valennia! Do not tell me what to do! And do not tell me I have not parented you—I have! And you are mistaken. I hide nothing from you."

"Do not lie to me, Father. It is quite obvious that you keep things from me. You keep things from all of us, even my step-mother. You have never once made an effort to be a part of my life. Do not act as if you can rule it now!"

"Do not bring Aria into this! And I can rule your life. I quite literally always have."

"No, you have not. My step-mother has had more of a hand in raising me. She is the mother I never had, as well as the father. Now, if you'll excuse me—" I glanced down at my cuff-covered wrist where my favorite, invisible watch resided. "—I have an appointment with the weapons master now that you arranged."

With that, I strode out the door, not turning my head once. As I did, I felt our already strained relationship begin to tear. I did not know it then, but the tear would only grow in the coming months.