My Dead Prince

Chapter 6: Alone With the General

In utter disbelief and agitation, Raven paces back and forth with frenetic energy, gnawing on a nail as she attempts to process the words spoken to her during their journey to the palace. Suddenly, two maids emerge from the shadows, bearing items for Raven's daily wash. Accompanying them, they select an outfit that is more comfortable for her to wear while soaking in a tub and scrubbed down by three other diligent maids.

Observing intently as the maids carefully rummage through the various dresses available, Raven ultimately settles upon one more conservative. Once out of the bathtub, the head maid adorns Raven's visage with makeup and styles her hair into an intricate bun adorned with lifeless roses arranged around its circumference. After brushing off any residual lint or dirt from her dress, the head maid picks up a laundry basket before bidding farewell alongside her fellow servants, who respectfully bow to Raven before departing.

Returning to the main chamber of the palace, Raven selects a book from one of many shelves lining the walls and begins reading it when suddenly she hears footsteps approaching from behind. Her heart racing with trepidation, she turns to see another maid standing nearby, illuminated only by flickering candlelight. Without hesitation or explanation, the maid beckons for Raven to follow her deeper into the palace corridors.

Surprised that they are not taking one of the secret tunnels known only to those within their inner circle, Raven obediently follows behind as they traverse through several hallways until finally arriving at a set of grand double doors leading into what appears to be an expansive bedroom-c*m-office space replete with maps adorned with flags marking various territories. As Raven enters hesitantly, the doors slam shut behind her sending shivers down her spine as she approaches a shelf filled with manuals detailing gruesome killing techniques employed in wartime.

Undeterred by the macabre contents of this room, Raven is drawn towards a set of sliding doors that reveal an enormous bed in the center of the space with two grand candles flickering high above the walls. Her eyes widen with delight as she surveys a shelf filled with war helmets, armor, weapons, and even what appears to be a collection of skulls arranged artfully on the middle shelf.

Having previously indulged in a bout of exploration, Raven was seated on an office chair. With bated breath, she waited for any visitors to grace her presence. Her ears perked up as a key unlocking the door reverberated. Heavy footfalls followed soon after, accompanied by a distinct dripping noise.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Raven cautiously peeked around the corner. Crucifix stood, holding aloft several heads of creatures he had recently vanquished. A grim sight indeed! The fierce warrior's visage was painted with fresh scars and blood from his latest conquests. His bulging muscles glistened under the dim light while black blood dripped from a deep wound on his chest.

Raven's eyes widened at the ghastly sight before her. She could not help but utter words of concern for Crucifix's well-being. "You should still stitch it so you don't leave a trail of blood," she suggested gently.

Crucifix merely chuckled at her suggestion and assured her he would be fine. He excused himself to clean up before disappearing into another room, shedding his armor.

Eager to assist him in any way possible, Raven waited patiently outside while she heard the water running from within. She peered inside and saw Crucifix's nude form standing under the showerhead. Their gazes locked momentarily before Raven blushed profoundly and quickly closed the door to afford him some privacy.

A sly remark escaped Crucifix's lips as he teased Raven about her apparent interest in him despite knowing full well that he was one of the most feared predators in their realm. Flustered beyond belief, Raven hit her head against the wall in frustration.

Regaining composure, Raven eventually entered the room with a medical kit to tend to Crucifix's wounds. The towering warrior sat on a chair draped in nothing but a towel around his waist. Raven coughed softly, pulling out a needle and thread to stitch up the wound.

Due to Crucifix's height, Raven found it challenging to reach the scar. However, Crucifix's soul amulet glowed yellow around his neck, allowing for better lighting in the otherwise dimly-lit room. Despite the difficulty of her task, Raven persevered with admirable grit and skill.

Crucifix's Point Of View

As she approached me with the needle, her petite frame trembled nervously as she attempted to reach my chest. However, due to her diminutive stature, she failed in her initial endeavor. I couldn't help but chuckle at her futile attempts, causing her to glare at me before climbing onto my lap. She cleaned the area with a methodical and meticulous approach before slowly pushing the needle through with palpable focused intensity. As she hummed while biting her lip, I couldn't help but admire her precision in stitching.

"Please...you're one of those 'rub some dirt on it' men," Raven remarked with a hint of amusement. "Your armor tells me, so it's just a flesh wound vibe."

"You may have a point there," I replied thoughtfully. "I haven't had the company of a woman in quite some time."

"Why not?" Raven asked curiously.

"I prefer solitude; I've been betrayed before," I explained simply.

"I can see that, but you should enjoy your high status at least," Raven suggested. "There is more to life than murder and war."

"And what would you suggest that is?" I queried skeptically.

Raven blushed slightly as she finished up the stitching toward the top. "Anything you want to do, I suppose," she offered tentatively. "You seem like an okay guy besides all the killing."

"Does my penchant for violence bother you?" I inquired.

Raven chuckled softly as she held onto the kit with both hands, still seated on my lap. "Not really; you do what needs to be done," she answered candidly.

Witnessing a woman conversing with me without quivering in fear at my feet was strange. The rush of power bestowed upon me didn't intimidate Raven; instead, it seemed to intrigue and tantalize her simultaneously- which was both exhilarating and dangerous for me. With a warm smile, Raven's violet eyes shone as she set the kit aside before preparing to hop off my lap.

"Did you hear the request that he made of you to come over here?" my inquisitive tone prompted a response. "If I'm correct in assuming his trust in your character, then it would seem so," came the reply. Raven nodded, conveying her understanding. "Tell me, have my actions or words caused you any discomfort yet?" I asked, curious for feedback. "Not at all; if anything, I find myself intrigued by your presence," Raven declared confidently. The topic soon shifted to clothing, and Raven teasingly questioned whether any ordinary garments were available. Her lithe figure gracefully moved towards the wardrobe, where she began perusing its contents with interest. I observed her with amusement from my seat, ultimately rising from it and walking behind her to join her inspection. "What is your verdict? Do I pass the test for having 'normal' clothes?" I jested with a smile. She chuckled before responding, "I don't think you own any." As Raven trailed her fingers along the hangers, she inadvertently backed up against me, and I could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. Taking note of this dynamic shift between us, I suggested getting nightclothes for her via phone to avoid any awkwardness later on. She readily agreed and bit down on her lower lip while agreeing with my plan.

Afterward, we retired to bed, and Raven settled herself onto the mattress while reading one of my torture books from my collection - something which piqued my interest further about this woman slowly revealing more aspects of herself to me with every passing moment. As she awaited for fresh clothes to arrive courtesy of our maidservants, she lay prone on top of the duvet cover draped across our bed frame; candlelight flickered across her smooth skin while her feet dangled in mid-air out of restlessness.

A knock resounded at the door, and I rose to answer it, with a maid standing on the other side holding Raven's silk nightgown in her grasp. After taking hold of the item, I locked the door behind me and tossed it over to Raven, who was grateful for the gesture. Setting aside her book, she removed her makeup using some freshwater we had placed nearby before turning around to face me; there was a slight blush on her cheeks as she struggled to reach the zipper on her gown. She pouted playfully, looking up at me with an imploring expression. "I need you to ask," I said coyly. My response was firm and direct: "I don't take hints, only clear language."

"Very well then," Raven acquiesces, her tone hinting at resignation. With a graceful turn, she beckons me to follow her as we make our way to the bedside. I trail behind her, my eyes fixed on the sway of her hips as she leads me deeper into the shadows.

As we finally reach our destination, Raven turns to face me with a look of anticipation. "Mr. General..." Her voice trails off, leaving the rest unsaid as she gestures towards the zipper at the back of her dress.

Without hesitation, I step forward and undo the fastening, feeling the cool metal against my fingers as I slowly pull it down. As Raven's dress begins to slide off her shoulders, I am struck by a sudden urge to touch her skin - to feel its warmth and softness beneath my hands.

And so, without thinking twice, I let my fingers roam over her bare flesh, tracing gentle patterns along her arms and down her back. As goosebumps appear on her skin, I can't help but revel in the sensation of being this close to her.

But even as the heat between us grows more intense, I realize this must be where it stops. We cannot go any further - not when there is loyalty involved and lines that cannot be crossed.

With great reluctance, I force myself to step back from Raven's embrace, watching as she slips out of her gown and into something more modest. And yet even as she approaches me again in a black nightgown that accentuates every curve of her body, I know we can never be together in the way we desire.

At Raven's question about my loyalty and whether or not others have had similar opportunities to be with me like this before, I answer truthfully: "No. Many do not get my opportunities; that is the only difference."

But I cannot deny our attraction when she asks if she can be one of those opportunities. "If I chose to, yes," I concede.

However, even as Raven's disappointment is palpable and her eyes search mine for any hint of a change in our circumstances, I know my loyalty means more than anything else. "I do not share," I tell her firmly. "This is why I will not do anything to you that way."

Despite her downcast gaze, Raven nods in understanding, accepting the situation. And yet even as she does so, I find myself drawn towards her again - pulling her close and whispering into her ear: "What?"

I must express to you, my dear acquaintance, that if we proceed with this particular action, there is a distinct possibility that I may unintentionally cause your demise. This is an outcome for which you are not adequately prepared. As she gazed upon me with her alluring violet orbs, she appeared to be filled with desire and yearning; however, after giving it some thought, she ultimately concurred with my cautionary words and retreated to one end of the sleeping quarters. A hearty chuckle escaped my lips as I settled into my chair and began charting out the various maps necessary for the forthcoming military campaigns.

Raven's Point Of View

As I clambered onto the bed, my face turned away from Crucifix, and an acute sense of embarrassment overtook me for having made a pass at him. Pouting with a hint of self-recrimination, I muttered to myself about deserving such retribution: "I suppose this is what I get for trying to make advances... wouldn't that be tantamount to cheating even if it was sanctioned?" With these thoughts swirling in my mind, I settled into a comfortable position on the bed and wrapped myself in a warm blanket. The rustling sounds of papers being shuffled and books being written emanated from Crucifix as he busied himself with his work.

Fatigue began to set in; my consciousness wavered between sleep and wakefulness. At one point, I heard Crucifix move to the other room and shut a drawer before returning to sit on the opposite side of the bed. As I cracked open one eye, I saw him staring intently at a mysterious clock ticking away with alarming regularity.

Without warning, Crucifix shifted closer to me and pulled the blanket around his waist, revealing his chiseled chest. Folding his arms behind his head, he gazed at the ceiling while I pondered how he could eat or perform other physical functions when his mouth remained perpetually stitched shut. My curiosity took hold as I asked, "Do you have a tongue?"

To which he responded matter-of-factly: "No, nor do I possess ears."

Intrigued by this revelation, I probed further: "Then how can you understand what I'm saying?"

"Through vibrations," came his succinct reply.

Feeling somewhat guilty for having hit on him earlier, I apologized for making things awkward between us. To my surprise, however, Crucifix seemed almost relieved: "It's quite refreshing to have someone express interest in me romantically."

Moved by his candor, I smiled at him as he turned to look in my direction. His eyes glimmered with an otherworldly intensity that made me feel both exhilarated and unnerved.

To distract myself from this strange sensation, I burrowed deeper into the blankets only to be pulled closer to Crucifix's body, my leg entwined with his. As I lay on his chilly chest, my fingers traced the jagged scars crisscrossing his torso while he averted his gaze.

An almost feral growl reverberated through my mind as Crucifix tightened his grip on my side, reminding me of a predatory prince. Clearly, he struggled to control himself around me more than anyone else.

As we lay together for what seemed like hours, I felt myself drifting off to sleep even as I sensed Crucifix watching me intently with hunger in his eyes...