Prince of Fire

Chapter 6

Part 2

The Creature of Nightmares

One Year Later

Drunk and highly intoxicated, Laurent Vallah, the Crown Prince of Valhara and Prince of Fire, stumbled through the carved wooden doors of the royal library.

The prince spent his day sulking down white marble hallways where stone faced guards stood watch here and there. If not for their blinking eyes, Laurent would have dismissed the guards as increadilby human-like statues clothed in armour. They stood unnaturally still, one hand holding a steel lance, the other hovering within reach of the swords sheathed at their hips. As he passed, they bowed with expressionless faces. Their movements, their posture, even the way they blinked was the same. Like their minds were one, their brains crafted by the same inventor. Laurent paid them no heed.

The servants however... He kept an eye on them. Not to observe their work or whether they carried out their assigned tasks correctly, but to see who could be persuaded into his bed with a little bit of charm and who would refuse him- not that many dared refuse the wants of the prince.

Then his father dragged him into a meeting with some of the more prosperous lords of Valhara. It gave him a splintering headache. Lord Mayer complained of the lack of crop growth in his south-eastern territory. Lord Lovell boasted of the training the young men received in the Northern Fangs- the cold, unforgiving mountains bordering the top of the continent. Beside ruling the Lovell Lunar, the man oversaw the training in the mountains; he was one of the greatest lords in Valahara. Lord Ashton could not stop talking of his newborn son and the glory he would bring to their western land once the youngling took over the title. And Lord Morgan... Laurent was fond of the small, chubby man and his red stained cheeks (he always had suggestions for good wine and some cider) but today he was unusually annoying, opposing every idea the King portrayed to solve the man's insect problems. The little devils could not leave his grapes alone, he had claimed.

Laurent was relieved to leave the room and its lords behind. He was even more relieved when Lord Morgan sought him out with a bottle of the finest wine he claimed to have produced. The young prince consumed the entire bottle at once. It did taste divine, the alcohol a welcoming burn as it trickled down his throat.

But even that was not enough to take his mind from her. In one month's time, it will be the anniversary of her death. One year without the person he had loved the most.

One rotten, wasteful year. All he had done was drink and bed his problems away, pretending he cared for nothing and no one. His mother's illness had worsened and she was stuck in her tower day and night with no visitors allowed, save for one maid and the King. Not even her own son was permitted to see her.

And the King... He had become worse with each passing month. He punished Laurent whenever he saw fit, even if the prince did nothing to anger him, did not disobey his commands, did not step out of line. There seemed to be no reason for most of the punishment save for the sheer enjoyment his father received from it. Laurent's back was a mess of red, blistering scars.

Today was an especially difficult day for the prince. On top of the meeting and aimless wandering, he woke from a nightmare. He was back in Coralle, on the day of his and Victoria's birthday. They danced and kissed like they had one year ago. Then, exactly as it happened in real life, she was killed, her life fleeting as he held her and cried.

The entire day the scene would not leave his mind, replaying itself over and over, seizing control of his thoughts. Her last words kept echoing in his ear. That first and last 'I love you'.