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: I literally cannot wait for y'all reaction to this chapter, especially the ending haha. Get ready for a small surprise :) Don't forget to vote, leave behind your reactions, and follow. Enjoy the story!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Ren barely slept through the night. Between the rustling leaves, howling wolves, and snoring of a certain redheaded princess, he wasn't able to do anything but close his eyes. The onslaught of sounds was just the tip of the mountain of problems looming over Ren's head.
The main problem being Alethia.
As the sun rose, Ren finished saddling up the horses and laid Alethia across one of them. He craned his neck, looking at the sleeping royals on the forest ground. Thick clouds were filling the sky, allowing a small amount of sunlight to peek through them.
Although Sephirah had managed to go fishing for food, they couldn't rely on that in a desert. If they were going to make it across the desert in one piece, they needed more than a couple of scrawny fishes. Without cloaks and mouth cloths, they would die of sand inhalation or burn in the brutal sun before the desert clan had a chance to attack them. Ren ran a hand through his loose hair, his scalp prickling as his fingers pulled apart tangled knots.
He looked at the two royals again, annoyance flickering through him. Sephirah had a leg thrown over her boomerang, and her arm was splayed out on the pile of green leaves beneath her. Loud snoring sounds erupted from her open mouth, drool spilling onto her chin and down the side of her tanned face. Meanwhile, Aydin had fallen asleep leaning against the jagged bark of a tree, three silver flasks discarded at his side. His spear was between his legs, and he had his arms wrapped around it.
Ren was taking a step toward Sephirah when his eyes caught on the tiny, dirty brown linen bag hanging from Aydin's leather belt. Sitting between a pair of daggers, it dangled in plain sight. Ren turned, light-footed on the foliage beneath him as he moved in Aydin's direction.
Not making a single noise, Ren flipped his dagger out of its sheath. A caw from above startled him. Ren glared up at Sephirah's strange bird. The creature cocked its head, shiny beak holding a plump purple berry. He scoffed at it, and the bird's wings rustled as it took flight.
Aydin's breaths were deep and even. His skin was pale, and the bags under his eyes were prominent. With a quick, smooth motion, Ren sliced through the brown yarn tied to the prince's belt while holding the bottom of the bag. No need to alert the sleeping idiot with the sound of jingling coins.
Birds began their dreadful morning symphony as sunlight shined weakly through the darkened clouds. Ren shuffled backward away from the prince, shoving the linen bag into his left boot. Aydin stirred in his sleep, hand colliding with a flask at his side. Ren turned around, bending down to shake Sephirah's shoulder as he listened to the prince groan.
Pompous fool.
"Don't take the last slice!" Sephirah swung out a flaming arm, and Ren ducked. She sat up a moment later, mumbling incoherent words as she rubbed a lit hand over her eyes.
