The Vampire Prince and His Brat | On Hold

Chapter Two | Meeting the Brat Part II

A furry shawl.

The desktop lamp.

A small chest of drawers

Leviathan batted each and every one of the objects to the side, uncaring as some of them broke on the worn flooring. It was like swatting flies to him. Nothing could compare to the training he'd been put through over the years, so he just looked on blankly at the scene in front of him, standing there, stoic and calm as piece after piece of clothing or furniture came sailing towards him. He'd heard the rumours about her. There was nobody who hadn't – the reclusive brat of a noble girl... but he hadn't quite expected her to be that bad. He'd been expecting a snobbish stuck up brat. One who didn't throw temper tantrums. One who, after a little bit of training, could've passed for a somewhat haughty queen.

Sighing quietly, he caught the next few items of clothing launched at his head, passing them back to the trusty blonde who always accompanied him everywhere. "Pack them away," he ordered, eager to be rid of both his least favourite blonde, and the brat throwing a tantrum in front of him.

"I'm not going anywhere, jackass!" A heavy, decorative ornament slammed into his waiting hand. "Least of all with you!"

Leviathan sighed again, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands. He was the Crown Prince – he had his pride and dignity to uphold, especially in front of his fiancée. Somebody had to set a damned example of what was expected of royalty.

"Your Highness," his knight spoke, glancing distastefully at the absolute child in front of them. "Do you wish for me to collect her?" he asked, staring at him with those dark brown eyes of his. It was something he'd always liked about Ridian, his esteemed knight. He was blunt, to the point, and downright scary when he needed to be – much like himself. Though he had no idea about how to deal with ladies, but then again Kaliana wasn't much of a lady herself.

Ladies were supposed to be refined and dignified. Two things Kaliana lacked. Majorly... Not that she apparently knew it. Either that or she was just determined to be as much of a nuisance as possible. Leviathan wasn't sure on which he'd bet.

"She is my fiancée," he grumbled, staring at the puffed out cheeks and the red tint to his fiancée's face. It made her look oddly alike to the little furry chiraz he'd once kept as a pet when he was younger. "It wouldn't do for her to be manhandled by another." He shook his head, cursing under his breath at the thought of all the gossip which would soon be circling the palace. It was going to be a nightmare. An absolute nightmare. "Enough of this little tantrum." A scowl appeared on his face, eyes like ice as he strode across the room in a few long strides, blinking when a slip of clothing slipped past his guard, smacking him right in the face.

The silence that fell was deafening.

After all, it wasn't every day the Crown Prince – one of the strongest vampires in the entire kingdom – had a lacy black bra draped over his head, courtesy of his future wife.

Sniggers escaped a certain blonde's lips, stormy blue eyes clashing with the glinting green ones of his childhood friend. Leviathan scowled at him, glaring him into submission, before he turned and did the same to his fiancée.

"Enough, Albion." A rolled up newspaper cracked down on a head of blonde hair, the sound audible as the third and final of his personal guard dealt with the annoyance that was Albion.

Leviathan's scowl only darkened, irritation making his eye twitch when he realised his glare was having zero effect on the brat in front of him. Then again, some of the effect might have been lacking thanks to the bra on his head. He plucked it off his head with as much grace as he could muster, throwing it straight at Albion's face with a flick of his fingers. "Pack that away too," he ordered.