The duke's obsession with the three princes

Chapter 10: A Line Crossed

The long, echoing corridors of the palace seemed emptier than usual that night. Alistair walked with a purpose, each step deliberate and steady, his dark eyes filled with determination. He had just left Cedric’s chamber, ensuring his brother was safe and finally resting. But the storm brewing inside him refused to settle.

His patience had worn thin—no, it had snapped. Duke Alaric had pushed too far. Alistair could endure many things, including the lewd remarks and inappropriate advances that the duke directed at him personally. But Cedric? His youngest brother? That was a line the Duke had no right to cross.

As he rounded the corner, he spotted Alaric near the palace’s west wing, lounging in his usual careless, provocative manner, leaning against the wall as if he owned the place. The duke’s signature smirk spread across his lips as Alistair approached.

"Alistair," Alaric purred, his eyes glinting with something dark and unsavory. "To what do I owe this pleasure? Perhaps you’ve come to show me more of that—"

Before the duke could finish his sentence, Alistair’s hand shot out, grabbing Alaric by the collar of his fine coat. With a swift, powerful motion, he slammed him against the nearest stone wall, the impact echoing through the hall.

Alistair’s face was inches from Alaric’s, his usually composed expression twisted with controlled fury. “Enough,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. His grip on Alaric’s collar tightened as he pinned him there, using his strength to ensure the duke had no room to escape. “I’ve had enough of you.”

Alaric, to his credit, remained unnervingly calm, his expression still full of amusement as though he found the whole thing entertaining. “Oh?” he purred, his eyes glimmering with excitement. “I didn’t know you liked it rough, Alistair. This side of you is… thrilling.”

Alistair’s eyes narrowed. “You can do whatever you like to me,” he continued, his voice like steel, “but you will leave my brothers out of this. I won’t stand by while you torment them.”

Alaric’s smile only widened. He seemed to relish the fury radiating from Alistair. “My, my, showing your true colors now, aren’t we?” he teased, leaning closer as much as Alistair’s grip would allow. “It’s turning me on.”

Alistair’s jaw clenched, his eyes blazing with barely suppressed rage. The duke’s words were like oil on a fire, only adding to the deep, seething anger inside him. But he knew better than to let the man’s provocations drive him to reckless violence. He wasn’t like Damien—he didn’t lose control. He was a prince. He had responsibilities.

And one of those responsibilities was protecting his brothers from predators like Alaric.

“You can’t intimidate me,” Alaric continued, his voice sultry and mocking. “You think you’re so noble, so righteous, but deep down, I know there’s something else lurking beneath that cold exterior. Something wild. You’re just like me.”

Alistair’s fingers twitched, tempted to strike the man, but he held himself back. “I am nothing like you,” he spat, his tone venomous. “Stay away from Cedric and Damien, or I swear I will personally see to it that you are thrown out of this palace.”

Alaric merely laughed, soft and low, a maddening sound. “Oh, but why would I leave? Things are just starting to get interesting. Besides,” he added, leaning forward to whisper in Alistair’s ear, “you don’t scare me.”

Alistair shoved him back against the wall one last time before releasing his grip. He stepped away, his body tense with barely contained anger. “This is your final warning,” he said coldly. “I won’t let you harm them.”

Alaric watched him with that same infuriating grin, his eyes gleaming with perverse amusement. “We’ll see about that, Alistair.”

---

Meanwhile, under the cover of darkness, Damien slipped through the halls of the palace, moving with the practiced ease of someone who had done this far too many times. He didn’t bother with the main exits—those were always guarded. Instead, he ducked through a narrow side passage, one of many he had discovered during his years of sneaking out.

This was his habit, his escape. Whenever things became too suffocating in the palace—whether it was his duties, his father’s expectations, or, more recently, the unbearable presence of Duke Alaric—Damien would slip away to the woods. Out there, in the vastness of nature, no one could tell him what to do. He could be reckless, wild, free from the suffocating weight of royal life.

He had been doing this for years, ever since he was old enough to understand that the palace was a gilded cage. At first, his sneaking out had been small acts of rebellion—climbing the walls to get fresh air, wandering the palace grounds in the dead of night. But as he grew older, the need for escape became stronger, and soon he found himself sneaking into the woods beyond the palace grounds, disappearing for hours, sometimes even days.

Tonight, the woods beckoned him once more, offering their familiar solace. As he emerged from the palace through one of the hidden doors, he breathed in the cool night air, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. Out here, he didn’t have to be the second prince, the one constantly compared to Alistair or overshadowed by Cedric’s innocence. Out here, he could just be… Damien.

The moonlight filtered through the trees as he ventured deeper into the woods, his steps light and swift. He didn’t care if anyone noticed his absence—not that they usually did. The king never paid much attention to his escapades, and the servants had long since stopped trying to keep track of his comings and goings.

As for Alaric, well, the duke could chase someone else tonight. Damien wasn’t in the mood to be ogled or propositioned by that lecherous snake.

“Ugh, that disgusting bastard…” Damien muttered to himself, kicking a loose rock as he walked. His thoughts drifted to the duke’s endless advances, his perverted comments, the way he always seemed to hover just a little too close. It made Damien’s skin crawl.

But out here, none of that mattered. Out here, he was free.

And so, Damien wandered further into the woods, leaving the palace—and all its problems—behind him for a few fleeting hours of peace.