The Dragon Prince's Beloved

4.

The bathwater soon turned dirty. I watched as it swirled towards the drain, carrying along the traces of dirt on my skin; remnants of the hell I’d been through. I scrubbed and washed my body as hard as I could. I felt as though I've been stained. My flesh didn't even feel like mine at all. I was disgusted with myself.

Underneath my tainted skin, my blood was still boiling. Images flashed in my head, each more gruesome than the last. None of them would be a righteous enough punishment for the vile and cruel Lady Dimera. I wanted to claw at her throat and watch as the blood seeped out of her wounds while I stabbed her repeatedly in the stomach. Perhaps I could feed her to the monstrous Jeremiah. He certainly seemed to relish the thought of devouring someone.

I peered out of the single window to my right, watching as the sun painted the sky a beautiful mural. From where I sat, I could see tall mountains rolling off in the distance, capped with the tiniest hint of snow at the top. A town stretched out towards the bottom, reaching down towards the palace.

Perhaps I shouldn’t indulge in such gruesome thoughts. It wouldn’t do well to harbour such dangerous thoughts in my head.

I vowed to myself that if Lady Dimera ever touched me in the way she did today, I would surely retaliate. No one had ever violated me as much as she did today, and it disgusted me in nearly the same way as it hurt me.

Rising from the large bathtub, I briefly wondered how it was possible for servants to be allowed such luxuries as baths and new clothes. Maria had told me that they get a new set of clothes every other day of the week, but always in red; never another color.

I proceeded to dry my wild, untamable mop of grey hair as I walked out of the bathroom. I sat at the corner of the little room that would be shared between the four of us. There were four beds in the room, not large enough to make our sleep comfortable, but definitely not uncomfortable. There were only two books on a single table in the room. And three boxes, which probably belonged to Maria and the twins, whom I'd learned were named Gillian and Gladys. A single mirror was placed beside the window, nearly as tall as I was.

There was a single wooden window as well, with a single wooden door that Maria told me was locked from the outside at night when they went to sleep. I wondered why though; perhaps the prince was scared of having his slaves escape from him.

The silence in the room was deafening. I sat alone, staring at the walls before me. This was the only time I had been alone since I was captured by the sickening prince. I had almost forgotten what it was like to sit in silence and dwell on my thoughts.

Suddenly, all the emotions I had been holding down came back in a rush. The anger, the pain, the sadness, the thirst of revenge. I slipped slowly towards the edge of the bed beside me, and let the tears flow freely. The full weight of my situation pressed down on me, making me feel small and insignificant. I was trapped, with nowhere to go and nothing to do but obey.

Growing up, I had managed to master the art of not showing my feelings freely to outsiders. My mother was the only one I ever felt comfortable showing my emotions to; not even Father had ever witnessed me cry. Perhaps that was the reason why despite seeing them both killed, I didn't cry. Physically. But on the inside, I was a burning inferno, yearning for something to burn to ashes. My heart was torn to pieces, and the pain was almost insurmountable. I dragged my knees up towards my chest, choking on my tears.

I cried so hard that I felt embarrassed by myself. None of it should have happened; none of it. If anyone deserved to be killed, it should have been me. Not Mother, with her dark curls and beautiful smile, or Father with his wise eyes and sheepish grin. My soul ached from the realization that they would never speak to me again. Never again would I hear Mother’s soothing voice as she stroked my hair, telling me everything would be alright. Never again would I see Father sitting outside while the sun set, his eyes narrowed, deep in thought. He’d never call my name again, or call me his princess as I sat beside him.

The image of him made me wipe my tears hastily. Now wasn't the right time for dwelling in my sorrow. I had to be strong. I remember him once telling me that ‘The strongest among any people was the one who could rise above their pain and anger’.

Sniffing loudly, I wiped the tears from my eyes once again. From the pile of the already dirty clothes I'd removed, I grabbed the locket Mother had given me and stared at it a bit longer. It felt cold to touch, and there was a strange aura of mystery around it. Upon closer inspection, I noticed for the first time that there were tiny carvings etched into the face of the locket. It was a strange inscription, and I faintly recalled that I had seen the language before. But I couldn’t quite put my finger on where that was.

Sighing deeply, I kept the locket by the edge of the bed and drew the red dress placed there towards me. Maria had given me the dress before they left. I slipped into it, my pale skin standing out because of the color, and then tied back the locket to my neck. Awkwardly, I stood in front of the mirror and stared at my reflection.

A frail, petite young woman stared back at me, with eyes that were oddly mismatched. The right was grey like my hair, while the left was brown. Back in the village, I was used to the faint whispers that tailed me wherever I went. They weren’t negative, of course. Nearly everyone spoke of my eyes in awe, for they had never seen someone like that before. Many called me beautiful, but I never quite got that thought to stick in my head. Or perhaps Mother simply never let the vain thoughts to grow in my head.

My ears were also slightly pointy; very slightly. It wasn’t something one noticed when staring directly at me, mostly because I kept them hidden. When we were kids, Alan used to tease me that my ears were like that because I had an accident when I was a baby. He once told me a story that involved a sharp knife, a dark room and a clumsy attempt at trimming my hair. When Father heard the tale, he made him apologize to me over and over again until I told him that he was forgiven.

The gown was exactly my size, and my petite figure was pronounced in the red gown. I looked at my reflection in the mirror with a muted expression, turning this way and that. My grey hair stood out, my most prominent feature. Next were my high cheekbones, my slightly pursed lips and a slightly upturned nose.

A movement at the door snapped me out of my thoughts, and I looked up to see Maria coming in. "The Prince has summoned you to his War chamber, Arrelia."

I groaned audibly, blinking at her. Why would the Prince summon me?

"I don’t know why he summoned you," she said, shrugging nonchalantly. "Out here, we don’t ask questions; we just do."

I blinked at her. Once. Twice.

"How did you...,"

"Don’t ask me how," she said. "Just do as you’re told. The prince does not like to be kept waiting."

I was exhausted. My feet ached so much that I suspected they would give out underneath me at any moment. Every single part of my body felt heavy, but I knew they wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t care even if I was bleeding from my eyes. When the Dragon Prince called, you answer his call without question.

"Lead the way," I said, masking my contempt.

We walked down the long hallway, the only sound between us being our footsteps. The hallways were now lit with candles and light sticks. They lit up as we approached, somehow sensing our presence. I looked back as we walked, and saw that the candles extinguished themselves once we passed. The magic was heavy in the air, and I had to keep reminding myself to close my mouth.

We passed the same paintings we’d seen earlier, but I didn’t stop to admire them again. Maria led me down the same way we came, except when we returned to the main hallway, she led me straight ahead.

"Maria," I called softly. Ever since the threat, I noticed that she was more welcoming towards me. "This is the Dragon kingdom, is it not? I mean, I didn't see the king." I was rambling, and I knew it. But I couldn't stop myself. "If he is the Dragon Prince, then definitely the King is still alive, right? But I don't see him anywhere. And I haven’t heard anyone mention him"

"Oh, that?" Maria began, softening her large strides. "This is the Prince's castle. His Highness, the King of Tanamoot gave this castle to the Prince on his sixteenth birthday, to celebrate his coming of age. Castle Triton was named after his grandfather actually.”

"So where is the king?" I asked.

"In the capital," she replied. "That’s a few hundred miles east of here."

"So the prince is the ruler here?"

"Prince Eragon is the ruler of this castle," she said. "The king hardly ever comes down here."

"Eragon?" I said, puzzled.

"That is the Prince’s name," she said. "You know that, right?"

I shook my head.

"Well, now you do."

"So, you're saying this entire part of the kingdom belongs to Prince Eragon? Is he the only son?"

She turned to regard me with a quizzical look.

"Where exactly are you from?" she asked.

"My village is called Belimore," I replied, feeling a twinge in my chest at the name.

"I’ve heard of it," she said. "That’s west of here. Just across the border, right?"

"Yes," I replied sadly.

"Prince Eragon is the fifth Prince, but the most beloved by the king," she replied my question finally. "I suggest you stop inquiring about him, however. Lady Dimera has spies everywhere. And when she finds out you're still prying for information on the Prince, you’ll have to answer to her. She can be quite jealous when it comes to something she likes."

I rolled my eyes and pressed them in annoyance.. Why do they think I'll ever be interested in the man who lead the attack to destroy my village and killed my parents?

Instead of saying anything, I kept quiet and kept walking along. Suddenly, we rounded the long corridor and came to a stand in front of a tall oak door. Two large dragon sculptures stood sentry on either side of the doors breathing fire. The flames were the only light source in the hallway, but they didn’t feel hot, oddly enough. Three guards on each side of the door watched us as we approached, spears standing stiff beside them.

The dragons must have been nearly fifty feet tall, and I had only a moment to marvel at them before Maria knocked on the door.

"You can go in," she said. "Lady Dimera gave me a task I need to attend to."

With that, she turned and hurried back down the hallway, leaving me alone in front of the door. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the doors open.

The room was round and cavernous; several tall pillars lined both sides of the room, carved so that they appeared to be bound by dragons. A single stone table was placed in the middle, around which several men were gathered. I counted eight of them before my eyes fell on the prince. He was standing on the other side of the table, both palms resting on the edge while he looked up at me.

I took a step forward, painfully aware of their eyes watching my every move. The Prince’s gaze was the only one I focused on, however. He had changed into a red woollen overcoat with gold trimmings lining the fabric. His hair was pushed back, although it was threatening to fall over his face once again. I was aware of his dark, silver eyes watching me. I swallowed nervously.

"You summoned me, your grace?"

He almost smiled; almost.

"Wait there," he said. "We’re almost done here."

The men turned back to face him, ignoring me completely. On closer inspection, I realized that the table before them was actually carved in the shape of a kingdom. Great mountains rose and fell unevenly, with several valleys and dark forest surrounding them. A few stone pieces carved in the shapes of walls, dragons and strange rectangles were arranged haphazardly all across the table.

"Your grace," one of the men said, "We should be heading east. Attacking the western village was successful, but we should turn our attention east. Your brothers...,"

"My brothers are not of any concern to me, general Donovan." the Prince said. "My only concern is how to expand my empire."

"So long as you remain tied to the capital, you cannot expand your empire the way you would want," the man called Donovan said. "Your brothers are all turning their forces west. You should look to the east instead."

"Are you suggesting he rebels against the crown?" another man said astonishingly. "That is an open act of treason!"

"I said no such thing, Oberon," Donovan replied sharply. "It was a mere suggestion. Our kingdom gives us the prime opportunity of being able to expand in whichever direction we should choose to. Should His Majesty choose to hand over the crown to anyone else...,"

"We are not here to discuss the succession of the crown, Donovan," Prince Eragon said calmly. "Be careful of your words, lest you shall be accused of treason. My father has given us free reins to expand his kingdom however we might deem fit. The attack on the village was proposed by him, which is why I went ahead with it. I do not question my father, and you should not presume that I will allow you to do that."

"My apologies, your grace," he said quickly, bowing his head. Briefly, the Prince’s eyes darted towards me, as if to say ‘You see how much power I possess?’

"In any case, I will have to discuss with the King before we make any abrupt decisions," he said. "I shall be leaving for the capital tomorrow. Lord Corbin, you will be joining me on this journey."

"It will be an honour, your grace," the man standing to his right bowed deeply. "I shall start making preparations for that immediately. Do you plan to ride a horse this time too?"

"Yes,"

"I'll see to it then, your Grace."

"That will be all," the Prince said. The men immediately bowed before turning towards the door. I stepped aside immediately, to avoid being trampled to death by them, as I wondered what other source of movement he has if he obviously doesn't ride a horse. That was clearly a lousy question the man had asked.

"Lord Corbin," the Prince called. The man rushed towards him at once.

"How many men were slaughtered?" he asked.

"Hundreds," he replied. I winced at the statement, realizing what they were talking about.

"And who gave the order to kill?"

"Your grace?"

"My orders were to raid and capture," the Prince said calmly. "I do not recall ordering any man to kill."

"My Lord," he bowed his head, "I do not know who gave the orders exactly."

"See to it that you find out before dusk," he said. "That will be all."

"Of course, your grace," he bowed once again, hurrying out of the room. I was left alone in the room, while the Prince’s gaze returned to me.

"Something on your mind?" he asked, c*****g his head to the side. I looked away.

"Nothing that concerns you, Your grace," I said. I heard his sharp intake of breath, immediately regretting my sharp mouth.

"That will be forgiven," he said. "But remember that I am not a man who forgives too often."

"I’ll be sure to do that," I said.

He gazed at me quizzically, probably thinking of something terrible to say to me. "I see you're getting used to being here. Perhaps, I can make you my personal maid once I show you to father."

He straightened up then, just as the door was suddenly thrown open. Lady Dimera stepped into the room then, a soft smile on her face which disappeared the moment she saw me. She had changed into a grey gown which closely resembled the red one she’d worn earlier, same plunging neckline and all. I stiffened at the sight of her.

"I’ve been waiting for over an hour," she said, returning her gaze to the Prince. "Lord Donovan just informed me that the meeting was over."

"You know you’re not allowed in here, Dimera," Prince Eragon said, frowning at her.

"My apologies, My Prince," she said, falling into a deep curtsy. "I merely wanted to hear from you."

"I’ve been told that both of you have met already," he said, his eyes darting towards me. I stared down at my feet.

"I’ve had the displeasure," Lady Dimera said, walking around the table and latching herself onto the Prince’s arm. "Come, My Prince. A stroll in the garden would do you some good after all this war talk."

"I was just telling Arrelia that she will be coming with me tomorrow to the Capital," he said, pretending not to have heard her. My head snapped up immediately, and I felt something clatter down to the pit of my stomach.

"Her?" Lady Dimera pointed at me with a shriek.

"Indeed," the Prince replied. “I expect her to be ready as soon as possible, I intend to show Father one of my captures from the war. We leave at dawn. And I’m sure Maria will give her a hand so she can get ready."

"Well then I’m coming as well," Lady Dimera turned to face him. "You promised me I could go with you next."

"I know,” he said, kissing her softly on the forehead. “And you will. Next time."

With that, he sauntered out of the room with his sword dangling beside him. I remained rooted to the spot, my head still spinning from the news.

"You think this is funny, don’t you?" Lady Dimera’s voice was dripping with contempt. "You must find it all amusing, right?"

"I... I never...,"

"We shall see how this goes," she said, stalling out of the room with her gown flowing behind her. Something about the way she spoke made my heart quake with terror. If she hadn’t made it clear already, I had just made a very powerful enemy.