The Royal Command

Ch 6

While as the sky fluxed its magnificent azure into a gradient of orange and yellow, the flock of birds chirped resoundingly. And beneath the magnificent sight of the sky was the flourishing forest. And while the lively trees of the forest sway like a drunk nobody, his gray, steel eyes lit a spark of shameless sadism amidst a tedious look across his chiseled features.

With his sword at the edge of your neck, shadow tinting over your existence, and apparent bestial characteristics that prove his brutality- it was enough for your lingering pride to fade away. "What's wrong, lady?" His callous voice echoes across the greens of life. And despite all imaginary prayers you've sent to the gods above, the menace of his savagery failed to cease- as such, it was a force to be reckoned with. "Cat got your tongue?" Perhaps his devoid of expressions was his forte as, despite the threat of his undertone, his face remained the same: monotonous.

Nonetheless, truly, it couldn't be helped if one were to pity you, if one were to laugh at you, or if one were to despise you— you could barely even part your trembling lips. And as mother referred, "Cowards are losers who disappoint society.", so shall that imply to you? If so, what shall you do? How shall you possibly fight against his chivalry? As such, you were in a dilemma- an extremely challenging one at that, and selfishly, the time ticked its way as he grew impatient. "If you don't want to die...then talk." He presses the sword further, managing to mark a faint trace of cut onto your neck. "I loathe wasting my precious time."

With every surviving glimmer of bravery, slowly is how you forcefully part your lips. "Um-" You gulp the pooling thick substance of saliva. "So, w-we meet again." Your blood turned cold, rushing through your flesh like a graced river. "W-what is- what is the young marquess doing here-?"

The bastard suppressed a laugh as though he was one hungry for absolute fear and respect. "This is my territory." So he says while your eyes widen in fright. He roamed his sword again, the sharpness just lightly threatening to scar each point of your erected skin.

As there was no choice left, you drew a deep inhale— bracing yourself for the worst while having to avoid victimizing yourself. "I see...T-Then,...my apologies." It was insincere. Apologizing to your enemy— it just didn't seem fit, but at this second, where his sword remains to point at your flesh, you had to suppress your intense dislike. "It— it seems that," You gulp. "That I— have been," You inhale. "That I've been careless as to not knowing this." You lower your gaze to the ground. "Despite the tight relationship we have, I— I mean no threat to the young marquess, moreover the Ackerman duchy."

"And why should I believe you, again?"

"I— I would be a fool to do so! Especially w-with the commence of the Royal Command."

As anticipated, he didn't budge. Instead, he continued to haul his sword with an impression of boredom. "You know..." he began, gaze boring into your involuntary goosebumps. "You're just another hopeless, spoiled girl." The hatred grew beyond its capacity— who the hell does he think he is? You thought to yourself. "Always depending on your daddy's protection." And as he too hated you, his animalism became one not to tolerate. "Just so you know, I can kill you right here and now, and I know millions of ways to do so." His words abuzz every single aspect of your conscience. It was as though you were some futile bunny being confronted by your fearless predator— the almighty, arrogant bastard of a lion. "Do this again, and I'll really kill you. Not even your little family will be able to help you." And finally— finally, he surrenders his menace, his sword being lowered to meet the sides of his thigh.

Still on your knees, you gasp in relief. The tension was still there, alright, but the threat no longer remain. Quickly, you cuddle your cold hands in an attempt to calm yourself down. "I'll take note of that, Lord Levi."