P.s this will be like chapter 4 but Darrkles POV and rest will be chapter 5 and it will be long af
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Aleksander
The manipulator
Beautiful. The only word that comes to mind when I saw her.
I arrived mere minutes ago and came immediately to the ball. I waited for quite a bit before I saw her. Her hair was braided into a low bun, encrusted with pieces of jewelry shining when she would turn her head and they would catch the light. Her dress was my color, black, the diamonds adorning her gown mimicking the sky.
She looks like the definition of The Scintillating light in the darkness. Her blue eyes met mine and she goes still as if she didn't expect to see me here. I've seen her multiple times, well. Observed her from a distance. She was nothing different nor special, just an ordinary princess but this one was absolutely ravishing.
I blink and she disappeared to her mother. Typical.
"Are you actually going through with this?!" Alina hisses in my ear. What a sneaky girl didn't even hear her come up.
I turn to look at her. Her clothes from the winter feast were still on her except they were extremely dirty with blood, torn, and reeked. My face scrunches up at the nauseating smell.
"Alina, you shouldn't be here." My voice was low and threatening. Ivan runs up behind Alina and something tells me by the small cut on his face that she hit him and ran.
"What are you trying to establish here? You just crash her party and what? She falls for you?" I laugh, mockingly. Her face fell but she recovers quickly.
"What stops me from going to her and telling her your true intentions?" She spits and struggles when Ivan starts to drag her away.
"Nothing but you will have to prepare the tracker's funeral then."
***
"I should gift her a present, don't you think Ivan?" I ask the heartrender standing by my desk. My eyes scanned the wall, the bookshelves stacked with books that I'd collected over the years.
"Da (yes) moi soverenyi." He utters, no interest present whatsoever.
I reach up and my hand grasped a book, I adored when I was younger. I pulled it out and a whiff of dust along with it. I gently stroke the cover of the dark red book, the grey dust coats the fingers of my gloves. I stare at it for a while as I wonder; is this how she is going to be? Is this how I see her? Do I see her as dirt on my gloves, dirt that I can dust off when I'm done?
