Seventh King

Flinch

Over the years the pain came and went, I'd learned how to hide it better, more so from fear of father taking note of it than from shame. I wasn't embarrassed per say, it's just... I didn't like people asking questions that I can't answer. Sure Z and Kota knew but they didn't pry all to much after all, they both kind of understood what I was going through. But if it were to happen in public-if I let it show in public, Father would be forced to acknowledge it, and that... that'd be Hell, the amount of effort and media focus that would get alone would be more than I could handle. Not to mention the manhunt that would ensue for the Soulmate of the Prince I can't- I don't even want to think about what that'd be like.
In all honestly what was the point in this Soulmate malarkey? All they ever did was hurt me, and what if I never found them? Then what, I'd just be stuck getting hurt by someone I don't even know and from something I can't even control?... Maybe dad is right, maybe I oughta just give up on this, I mean honestly what good has it done me? I stared in the mirror. I sighed once more before heading back out to the training room with Father.
I guess I started to forget what it felt like to not hurt. Father's training hurts from start to finish. And when I'm not training, I'm aching from training. When I'm not aching from training, im hiding in my room and flinching from my soulmate's pain.

There's a lot of it. More, I think, than there should be, but considering my own situation, I didn't really have anything to compare to be sure.

On the worst days, Father's training and my soulmate's pain line up.

"Stop flinching!" Father. "Do you think your enemy would show you mercy? Do you think you can afford to hesitate in the middle of a fight?"

I bit my lip until it bled, because it feels like my arm is being twisted behind my back, and there's nothing I could do to make it stop. Father came at me again, sending my small body skidding back across the mat.

When I pick myself up, my nose was bleeding-which must look odd to him since I got hit in the chest, and the mat isn't hard enough to bloody my nose like this I flinched when I felt Father's rough hand grab my jaw and force it upward so the man can have a closer look. I could taste the blood as it ran into my mouth, and feel the heat off the energy that danced around father's body.

Xexes spits a curse and released me roughly. "Ignore it, Azazel."

My nose had stopped bleeding by the time I tried to wipe it on my arm. "I can't. It always-"

"I said ignore it!" Father's voice becomes a roar. "It means nothing. It's a pointless distraction, and it will not get in the way of your duty. Do you understand?"

"But-"

Father looms, hands glowing with flame. "Do you understand?"

They love you. They will, when they meet you. I scraped together what little courage I had. "But Mom told me-"

Father's hand cracked across my face, sending me tumbling to the mat again. "It's only use is to train yourself against pain. The life of a King is a life of pain-ignore it, Azazel

When I tried to stand, I nearly fell again when I felt another phantom punch, this time to my ribs. My legs buckled, but I held firm and tried to muffle the wheezing in my breath.

Never, Zel. They'd never hurt you.

As far as I know, all my soulmate has ever done is hurt me.