Living in a Fairytale (Completed)

chapter 9

It took him a full week for Kaisen to find the man responsible for the magisueño. By then, I have not slept for five nights. Caffeine seemed to be the only thing keeping my eyes wide open. Every time I close my eyes, nightmares haunted me in my sleep. So when Kaisen walked into the throne room, I stood up and made my way outside.

The clan chiefs shouted their complains but I will not hear of it. I have suffered long enough and I intend to pay what must be paid. I didn't hear Kaisen's footsteps but I felt his presence at my back, following me. I didn't turn around to face him, instead I walked straight up to my bedchamber.

"Who's the fuck?" I asked and slammed the door open.

I noticed how he stirred for I moment, taking in the mess of my bedchamber. Pools and droplets of blood are everywhere, weapons and blades are all over the floor, desks, and some on top of my bed. He looked confused for a moment, and then he stepped inside the room with a frown on his face. I raised a brow, intrigued with his thoughts.

"What is it?" He was looking at the daggers smeared with blood on the vanity table and upon hearing my voice, he looked up.

"Do you want me to call upon a handmaiden?" He asked, uncertainty laced in his tone. 

I shake my head lightly and grabbed the LaTiaar and a quiver of arrows, the feathers dyed in the blackness of the night. I swung a scabbard tied to a leather harness across my body and placed a long sword along with dirks and small knives. The kingdom's royal blacksmith has been busy forging weapons of my choice.

"And risk having one of your mother's shadow snoop around my stuff? No, not risking my chances." I never tried to conceal my hatred towards his mother. Though we agree on so many things when it comes to ruling the kingdom, what she made of me the second our paths have crossed is still engraved at the back of my mind. I can do nothing but loath her.

"I know what she made you do, Cielle. Pero intindihin mo naman siya—"

"Stop talking." I muttered, the hair at the back of my neck stirring because of the deep and low tone of his Rich Tongue accent. I will never get used to that voice. He takes a deep breath,

"Hindi naman sa—"

"I said stop talking." I snapped. Annoyance flashed within his eyes and I felt an uneasy feeling seep through me. It would be best if he despises me as well.

I didn't want to explain but when I saw the look on his face, I whispered in a low voice, "Don't use the Rich Tongue when conversing with me. I hate it." For a moment, he looked lost.

"You're being ridiculous."

"Perhaps. Just don't use it." I muttered, putting an end to the conversation. He shook his head, a frown on his lips. I tied my hair with a wide length black ribbon and stepped out of the room, with him tailing from behind.

"Where to?" I called out, a hand on the leather harness of the quiver strapped on my shoulder. I flinched when a hand caught mine. "Hey," I protested but he didn't listen and pulled me along as we descended down the steps, with his hand intertwined with mine.

A flush ran up to my cheeks when I realized that I've been holding my breath the entire time. Fuck. Why is he holding my hand? There's no need for such gesture. For months I have descended down this staircase on my own. I was so engrossed with mine own thoughts that I didn't take notice that we have arrived outside. I pulled my hand to break free from his grasp but it seemed like iron. I frowned.