The things we do for hate

Derek's Deadly Decision

New chappie!!!! Surprisingly shorter than before...but c'est la vie. I'll try to make it longer next time XD

Thanks for reading!!!!

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Your Highness this, Your Princelyness that, was all that Derek heard as his deceased father's most trusted adviser droned on about some rebels that were trying to upstage the adviser's power and influence. Truthfully, the Prince could care less, just had to remember to knight those rebels for doing such a good job of annoying the middle-aged man. All he ever did was talk, the Prince wondered for what reason did his father keep him around, his head rested on his wrist as he nearly dozed off in the middle of the man's prepared monologue. Louis had to gently nudge him on the shoulder everytime he fell into the land of dreams. Derek mouthed "Thanks" once again before he continued to pretend to be interested.

How many topics had they gone through now? The advisor's upset pride, the Prince's new laws to allow orphans to live in the palace (which the advisor thought were absolutely ridiculous but knew better to say so to the Prince's face), the latest trouble the self-proclaimed enemy of his Highness, the Catastrophe had created, blah blah blah...

"-Your Highness," the man continued in his exasperating nasally voice, the one that had continued to annoy him to no end, "that pestering thief has just recently invaded the house of Gilden, the chief of your bodyguards. It has been reported that there was nothing stolen, however, if you ask me it was a murder attempt!"

"You just contradicted yourself, Count," Derek said, an almost bored expression on his stone-like face, "You've told me countless times about the havoc the THIEF Catastrophe creates. How can it be a murder attempt if the Catastrophe's a thief. He would have no interest in murder.

Count de Quions, the advisor, froze at the stare the prince gave him, sweating profusely. But he quickly recoiled and recollected himself, "That may be true, your Highness. But the Catastrophe is your self-proclaimed enemy, and wouldn't stop until you have been degraded to his level. And will do so, even if it meant resorting to unethical tactics."

"Really? Then what's the problem?"

"The head of your guard and his men were humiliated last night trying to protect, you Highness." The Count continued to get across, "I think you should put out an award for whoever catches that annoying little bug, dead or alive."

Derek raised an eyebrow at him, this man really wanted to catch this person. The sixteen year-old didn't mind, none of the thief's exploits had ever affected him, so he wasn't worried. In fact, he actually wanted to meet the person that ran circles around the people entrusted and trained to protect his life so easily. He looked forward to that day. It would happen. He was sure of it.

"Really? Why should I? It's not like if he has showed any interest in harming me, just making it so the people won't suffer as much from the outrageous taxes you've imposed under my name recently." He yawned, resting his arm on the golden armrest, smiling at the flabbergasted expression that the Count displayed.

Coughing slightly, the advisor tried to plead his case again, "You never know, Your Highness. Tonight is your 16th birthday Masquerade ball, am I correct?"After receiving a nod he continued."Royals and noblemen and women from all over the world will be in attendance. Wouldn't that be the optimal occasion in which the thief could ruin your image by robbing these guests?"

The Prince snapped up, his bored stare now turning into a questioning glance, "What are you saying, Count?"

"What I'm saying is, Your Highness, I will make it that tonight the thief will lose his head by morning, with the help of your guard of course." The Prince sighed, knowing this was probably the best thing for him and the kingdom but actually sulking about the reminder of his ball.

"Anything else you would like to say to ruin my mood?"

The Count flinched, "Well yes, about the cake for tonight's festivities..."

"What about it?"

"It just so happens that the chef who was supposed to make the cake was one of the guards that chased after the Catastrophe last night, getting his finger cut off." The frightened count probably expected the Prince to blow up at the nnews, but was even more unprepared to what actually occurred.

Derek slouched back into the velvet cushioned chair and plainly said, "Make our guests make the cake."

"Guests? You can't be serious, your highness! Those children can barely write let alone cook. If anything, allow my personal chef to prepare it. It's common knowledge that the eldest would do anything to get rid of you."

His eyes fluttered open on their own accord, as snake-like slits and just as deadly, "Are you saying a fifteen year-old, a twelve year-old and a nine year-old would plot my demise?" Rising out of his chair and crossing the threshold between him and the now-cowardly advisor, facing him with all six feet of his presence, the Prince breathed, "Tell me, if they were going to kill me, don't you think they would have done it already, with the various opportunities to do so? Especially today, when Kit and I fell through the window. He did have to but went out of his way to save me!"

That monologue was the most anyone heard the Prince say at one time in 3 months.

In his squeaky voice, "There were too many witnesses, especially with the child's siblings being held in the room. If they poisoned the cake, they could get away before you or anyone else ate it."

"I sincerely doubt that. I'll go observe them myself.

"But your Highness, the ball is in just a few hours. You need to prepare. I will watch them in your stead." The advisor took his chances with this one, bowing as respectfully as possible.

Derek had won this battle, accepting the advisor's leave, giving him his consent, satisfied with this outcome.

Little did he know this decision would prove fatal.