"Those who were destined to die had no right to interfere with the affairs of those fated to live."
A girl cursed to be reborn strikes an unlikely deal with the ambitious heir of Valorieve in order to fulfill her only wish. However, this strictly-b...
The Crown Prince was on the verge of losing his sanity.
The threat he had sent was perfect. It should have terrified her beyond reason. It should have made her beg for mercy. Why, then, had he received nothing in return?
Why had she not surrendered herself yet?
Was his threat ignored?
The thought made him seethe with an anger so immense it could have suffocated him. He was the Prince. He was the Blood of the First. The ground that he stepped upon was sacred.
He was not one to be ignored, especially not by a lowly demon.
It was all wrong. That banquet, that wedding, that abduction. She should have never escaped his clutches. He made sure of that all those years he had her with him. She had been accepting of her fate. Not once did she act against him. Never.
Until that banquet. Until that troublesome count's son stepped into the picture and took her away.
That bastard. Everything that went wrong was his fault. She would have been secured in the castle had he not meddled. The Prince would have been spared this infuriating helplessness had he not stood in his way.
Instead, she was tucked away beyond his reach, and he was trying so desperately to bring her back as though he were a wretched dog.
Those two had reduced him to such a pathetic state.
Everything was their fault.
If only he could remove that annoying pest, stamp him out like the stubborn insect he was. Nothing would then hinder his way. His plans would succeed, the demon eradicated and his duty fulfilled.
He eyed a letter neglected on his desk, an invitation to Valorieve's Banquet of Valor, and an idea flashed in his mind.
The Crown Prince burst through the door of his study, determination hastening his pace. His advisor sputtered after him, "Your Highness! Where are you going?"
"I'm leaving," he answered flatly.
"B-But—you must not! There is still much work that requires your attention—"
How annoying. The Prince paused and spun sharply to face his advisor, leveling him with a glare so cold it may have frozen the man. "You can see to it yourself."
Disbelief caused his mouth to gape. "Wait, Your Highness—!"
But the Prince did not wait. He could no longer sit in his castle and wait. If he wanted to see his plan through, then he had to take matters into his own hands.
The Festival of Valor was but a month away. He would take his chance then.
To hell with protecting the royal name.
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