the crowned prince

chapter 1.

If it wasn't the cruel heat, the smoke that curled and crowded itself against my lungs, slowly slaying and suffocating me, my weakened limbs would have been choked away along with my remnant power. Pain was as if it were wrapped around my finger, like a hot roll of wire dipped in bitterness, as I looked at the rest of Ordeiths slavery unit escaping from the mines.

Someone's presence from the distance alerted me as I managed to pick myself up. My white fitted suit rubbed against my skin as I stood there in the fiery setting. "I'm way too overdressed for this occasion," I mutter to myself. Footsteps became louder and more obvious.

A lone man stood at the foot of the door, his face shielded by smoke. I reach for my pistol. Too late. His hand pushed past my head wrapping his arm around my neck. "Pretty girl, not so pretty morals," a face frighteningly familiar conveyed. I chuckle. The grip on my neck tightens as I shuffle for air. "Look, we either do this the easy way or the hard way. What one do you choose?"
"The hard way sounds more fun, but just for your sake, I will choose the easy," I laugh.

Obviously annoyed he kicks my ankles but slowly lets his arm unwrap from around my neck, unsure if he can trust me. For once I could now see his face. His wavy brown hair just fell beneath his eyes, and his body was neither muscular nor lanky.

He grips onto my arm and without saying a word starts dragging me along. As I try to pull away the grip on my arm tightens. He stops to turn at me for a second then continues walking.

He walks me past a trio of guards all dressed in gold armor as I am led into a shining building where most of Ordeith's officials and overseers are kept. "Raveena Malark".
I peek over my shoulder to see Orideths King, Franklin Orideth, standing behind me. He stands crooked on his prosthetic leg, arms crossed, and starts to walk.

We both follow walking up a golden-colored staircase and into a room full of all-you-can-eat buffets and beverages that vary from cheap beer to the finest champagne money can buy.

As we come up to the Grand Doors of the throne room I am still questioning who this man is. His mysterious presence in the glass castle, the way his walk was crooked but face symmetrically perfect. The way his expensive clothing sat on his skin. "Now son," the King announced.
"Till we meet again," whispered the newly known prince of Orideth.
Agony shot through my spine. I had been fooled again. My warm blood trickled down his hands and into the crevices of his skin. Fool.