City of Starlight

Chapter 27 - Blood, Sweat & Tears

Please note: mature themes in this chapter (violence, sex)

(3rd POV) Flashback, Enchanted Forest, 2 years before the Dark Curse

It was an impressive weapon to say the least. There was a gilded serpent decorating the handle to symbolise that the knight who owned it had demonstrated unwavering loyalty towards the Queen. As Rhys turned the heavy weapon over in his hand, his petrified gaze flicked to the criminals kneeling three metres away. Sir Headley had ordered their legs to be broken so that they had no choice but to stay put on the ground. After patting his stepson on the back with a firm slap, the knight murmured, "Go on."

When the boy turned around to meet his stepfather's gaze, he received a warning glare in return. "Go on, Rhys. No boy of mine will be called my son if they don't have the guts for this."

Rhys squared his jaw and approached the dusty man bound before him in chains. Slowly, the two guards standing beside the criminal lowered him down so that his neck rested upon a stone block stained fresh from Headley's own work. Rhys scrunched his eyes shut and reminded himself that these people were guilty of treason against the crown he had sworn to serve. He must obey orders if he expects to be knighted one day. Rhys was disrupted from his thoughts when the man whispered in a dry raspy tone, "Please. You're just a boy."

Before Rhys could understand the meaning of the man's words, Headley suddenly had a dagger pressed to the man's throat. "He's not a boy, he's a man!" Without warning, Rhys' stepfather grabbed the man's head and turned it sharply, making a horrible snap echo through the cold morning air of the castle courtyard. "No more hesitations now, Rhys."

With that, Headley nudged his stepson towards the next victim; an elderly lady.

"What are you waiting for? Get on with it!" Headley yelled, making his stepson jolt. This time, Rhys could feel his muscles spasm upon his stepfather's shouts. The sword came down smoothly and when the young boy lifted it, it was dripping red. A weighty mass rolled to the boy's feet. When Rhys looked down, it was as though he was looking at his biological father's face. 

Turning around, Rhys bent over and emptied the bowl of porridge he had eaten that morning in front of the black masked faces of his stepfather's colleagues. 

.....................

Two years later

It may have taken countless beatings, but Rhys no longer hesitated when Sir Headley tasked him with assisting the daily execution squads. Some of his peers had started to participate in their first killings but their numbers paled in comparison to Rhys' tally. There was no doubt that the boy would become a prized asset. One day, Sir Headley came back from a long shift to tell Rhys that Queen Regina herself had asked him to commend young Rhys for his dedication to his training. 

Rhys was unable to sleep that night. After a marathon of tossing and turning in his bed, he snuck out into the royal gardens. He knew he was forbidden to go there but Oliver had recently showed him a way to get there without being detected. The usual emptiness of the gardens at night was why he almost yelped when he saw the flash of navy blue fabric around the corner. Poking his head out from behind the hedge, he realised that it was a girl in a night dress. Her long brunette hair hung prettily down her back and rested just above the bow of the sash around her waist.

Rhys' mouth dried up when he realised who it was. 

Sitting down at the edge of the fountain, the Princess took off her slippers and dipped her feet into the cool moonlit waters. Rhys blinked several times, intrigued by the reflective sheen of her dress. He shuffled out a bit more, holding his breath immediately when he stepped on a twig and made a snap echo through the air. Just as he fell back behind the hedge, a sharp gasp sounded from the other side. Between the leaves, he spied a ball of fire in the Princess' hands. She demanded in a pitched voice, "Who's there?"