The duke's obsession with the three princes

Chapter 9: Beneath the Shield

Cedric slammed the door to his chamber shut, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he staggered back, his body trembling uncontrollably. His mind raced, replaying the encounter with Duke Alaric over and over, the unsettling words, the predatory gleam in the duke’s eyes. Cedric’s heart pounded erratically in his chest, and he could feel the walls of his room closing in on him.

Sliding down the door, he collapsed onto the cold marble floor, knees pulled to his chest. His chest tightened with every breath, and his hands clutched at the front of his tunic, fingers twisting in the fabric as if trying to stop the rising panic. His vision blurred, his thoughts spiraling, unable to make sense of the overwhelming fear coursing through him.

It was too much. The duke’s voice, the suffocating closeness—it had felt like a trap, a cage closing in around him, and now that he was alone, the terror had sunk its claws deep into him.

He gasped for air, but the panic clawed at his throat, tightening with every breath. He couldn’t breathe. His chest heaved as if it would collapse, and his heartbeat was deafening in his ears.

"Why… why is this happening to me?" Cedric whispered, barely audible, his voice trembling. His hands gripped his shirt, clutching over his heart, trying to steady himself, but the pressure in his chest grew unbearable. He felt like he was drowning.

Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, though he fought them back. He was a prince, wasn’t he? He shouldn’t be so weak. But no matter how much he willed himself to calm down, the fear wouldn’t let him go.

For what felt like an eternity, he sat there, trapped in his own panic, his body trembling as he rocked slightly, unable to think clearly, to breathe properly. His entire world had shrunk to this moment, this crippling terror.

A gentle knock at his door pulled him from the storm inside his mind, though it only made his heart leap in panic again. His breath hitched as the door creaked open slowly, but before he could scramble away, a familiar voice broke the silence.

“Cedric?”

It was Alistair.

The eldest prince stepped into the room, his tall, imposing figure silhouetted in the dim light. His expression, normally stern and composed, softened ever so slightly as he took in the sight of his younger brother huddled on the floor, trembling and gasping for breath. His aloof exterior cracked just enough for concern to slip through.

“Cedric…” Alistair’s voice was calm but firm, a steady anchor in the midst of the younger prince’s turmoil. He quickly crossed the room and knelt beside his brother, his movements smooth and controlled, though there was an urgency in his gaze. “Breathe. Look at me.”

Cedric’s wide, tear-brimmed eyes met Alistair’s, and for a moment, the panic stilled, if only because of the sheer presence of his older brother. Alistair, despite his distant demeanor, always had a way of commanding the room, and now, his firm but gentle presence seemed to cut through the haze of fear.

“Slowly, Cedric,” Alistair instructed, his voice low and steady. “Breathe with me. In… and out.”

Cedric tried, but his chest still felt tight, his breath shaky. Alistair didn’t falter. He placed a hand on Cedric’s shoulder, grounding him, his touch light but reassuring. “You’re safe. Nothing is going to happen to you. Just breathe.”

Cedric forced himself to focus on Alistair’s voice, on the rhythm of his breathing, trying to match it. Slowly, painfully, his breaths began to even out, the tightness in his chest loosening, though his hands still trembled slightly.

Alistair stayed beside him, silent but watchful, waiting until Cedric’s breathing steadied, until the younger prince no longer looked as though he might collapse from the panic. Only then did he speak again.

“What happened?” Alistair asked, his tone soft but direct. “Why are you in this state?”

Cedric wiped at his eyes, his body still tense, though the worst of the panic had passed. “I-I don’t… it’s just…” He hesitated, his voice weak. How could he explain what had happened? The way Alaric had cornered him, the way he’d felt so powerless?

Alistair’s gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing as he pieced it together. “It’s that damned duke, isn’t it?” There was an edge to his voice now, a protective fire igniting behind his usual composed demeanor.

Cedric nodded, unable to meet Alistair’s gaze, ashamed of his own weakness. “He… he said things, and… I just… I didn’t know what to do.”

Alistair’s jaw tightened, a flash of anger crossing his face. But it wasn’t directed at Cedric. No, this anger was reserved for Alaric, for the man who had put his brother in this state. “That snake,” Alistair muttered under his breath, his hand still resting on Cedric’s shoulder, grounding him.

Cedric looked up at his brother, his eyes filled with uncertainty. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t be like this. I should be stronger, like you.”

Alistair’s gaze softened again, and for a brief moment, the distance between them vanished. “There’s no shame in feeling fear, Cedric. What matters is that you don’t let it control you.”

“But I couldn’t do anything,” Cedric murmured, his voice breaking slightly. “I just… froze.”

Alistair sighed, his hand moving to ruffle Cedric’s hair in a rare moment of brotherly affection. “You did what you could. And that’s enough. The duke… he’s a problem, but you don’t have to face him alone.”

Cedric blinked, surprised by the tenderness in Alistair’s words. His older brother, usually so stoic and distant, was showing a side of himself that Cedric rarely saw—a side that cared deeply, even if he didn’t always show it.

“You’re my brother,” Alistair continued, his tone firm but kind. “I’ll always protect you. No matter what.”

Cedric’s heart swelled with gratitude, a warmth spreading through him that eased the lingering fear. He nodded, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes. “Thank you, Alistair… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Alistair stood, offering his hand to Cedric to help him up. “You won’t have to find out.”

Cedric took his brother’s hand, letting Alistair pull him to his feet. The room still felt a little too small, the shadows a little too close, but with Alistair there, Cedric didn’t feel quite so vulnerable anymore.

“Now,” Alistair said, his voice returning to its usual authoritative tone, “rest. I’ll deal with the duke.”

Cedric wanted to protest, to say that he didn’t want Alistair to get involved, but the exhaustion from the panic attack was already pulling at him. He nodded, trusting his brother’s strength, and allowed Alistair to guide him to bed.

As Cedric lay down, Alistair stood by the door, watching over him like a silent sentinel. “Sleep, Cedric. I’ll keep watch.”

And as Cedric’s eyes closed, the last thing he saw was his brother’s calm, protective presence, a quiet reassurance that no matter how dark things seemed, he wasn’t alone.

Alistair would always be there.