The uncontrollable power lurking beneath Princess Alethia's skin can either be the savior of the Four Kingdoms or its destruction.
Princess Alethia was raised on three principles: (1) Mercy is for the weak, (2) Emotions are an unwanted distraction...
A/N: Look up above at the gorgeous man called Aydin. Get ready for an intense ride. Note that it's not my artwork. Credit belongs to another artist. Comment, vote, and comment again just because lol :)
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Aydin lifted his golden goblet high in the air, throwing his head back as he let out a bellowing laugh. "Let us pray for another night like our previous one. Beautiful women, tankards overflowing with ale, and constant laughter! Who knew you lot of buffoons could bring such good luck?"
The soldiers laughed heartily, thrusting their wooden tankards to the ceiling in agreement. Aydin jumped down from the table, draining the last of his ale. He took several steps forward before he felt his lieutenant, Lance Gunner, grasp his arm.
"Unhand me." Aydin waved a careless hand as he moved to exit the door of the castle barracks. "I'm tired of looking at your ugly faces. I'm going to find a woman to charm. Something I'm sure you know nothing about, Lancey boy."
Lance rolled his eyes, reaching out to place a strong hand on Aydin's shoulder. "You've said enough. You should retire to your quarters. Before you end up passing out in the barracks."
"What are you?" Aydin leaned forward, gripping a nearby chair for support. He narrowed his eyes at Lance, whose light brown eyes glared at him. "By the goddess's lovely bones, are you my father?"
"You're a fool." Lance shook his head, steering Aydin towards the exit. The soldiers moved aside to let them through, jeering at Lance for cutting the night short.
One of the men gulped down ale before jokingly stating, "Maybe Lance is trying to keep the general's poor excuse for drinking a secret."
"At least I've got a pretty face," Aydin said as he flipped off his men. "All you've got going for the lot of you is my good name."
Laughter filled the air mixed with the sounds of armor clanking to the ground as the soldiers settled down for the day. An overwhelming stench of unwashed sweaty bodies, strong ale, and smoke filled Aydin's nostrils. He took a deep breath; it smelled like home. He laughed as Lance pushed him towards the door and shoved his discarded spear back into his hands.
As they approached the exit, the doors banged open, cutting off the deep rumbling laughter. The room fell unnaturally silent as a haggard young man leaned on the door. His breaths were loud as he gasped, frantic eyes searching until they landed on Aydin.
"Your Highness." The young man gulped. "There's been horrible news."
Aydin's back snapped straight at the words. The scraping sound of wooden chairs dragging across the floor erupted as the soldiers behind him stood. His grip tightened on his spear. "Explain."
"A village on the northern outskirts of the Raworth Pier was attacked." The boy slid to the ground, sweat dripping down his face. "No survivors or sign of the enemy."
