Chapter 4
1303 Words
✨Theodore's POV✨
The leopard growled as another arrow pierced through its neck. Jiraiya brought out another white arrow, which he fired again. This time, with its full speed and pressure, it caught the leopard in the left eye.
"Now, use the sword to finish it up," Jiraiya said, as we both emerged from our hiding place.
"You don't expect me to go after that deadly animal?" I said, shrugging my shoulders.
"Give me that," Jiraiya snarled, snatching his sword from me.
His eyes blazed with intensity as he approached the wounded leopard. With swift, precise motions, Jiraiya plunged the sword into its heart, ending its suffering.
The leopard's lifeless body slumped to the ground, its once-vibrant fur now tainted with blood.
Jiraiya turned to me, his expression stern.
"You should have trusted me," he said.
I raised an eyebrow.
"Trusted you? You almost got me killed!"
Jiraiya's gaze narrowed.
"You're not even skilled enough to finish the job."
His words stung, but I knew he was right.
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Arcadia Kingdom:
👑King Tarsus's POV 👑
I stepped out of the palace and went directly into my chambers, seeking solitude from the weight of my thoughts. My mind was consumed by the image of my son, Theodore, and the ache in my heart grew unbearable.
My kingdom, once a symbol of prosperity and peace, now lay fractured and divided, courtesy of the monster I had married.
My wife's grasp on power had tightened, suffocating the land and its people.
But I pretended, day after day, that all was well.
The thought of Theodore's banishment had devoured my soul, leaving a hollow shell of the queen I once was.
Tears streamed down my face as memories flooded my mind:
Theodore's laughter, his bright smile, and his curious gaze. Where was he now? Was he safe?
I collapsed onto my bed, overwhelmed by grief and helplessness. My kingdom, my son, my very existence – all torn apart by the woman I had trusted.
I wiped away my tears, composing myself.
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🐲Naomi's POV🐲
I stood up from the chair, my gaze lingering on Tarsus's retreating figure as he disappeared into his chambers. His worried expression was a thinly veiled attempt to conceal his true emotions, but I saw right through it.
Amusement danced on my lips. Soon, he would be nothing but a memory, and I would reign supreme.
I made my way to the guards' quarters, seeking out Egremold, my loyal and ruthless accomplice. His loyalty was bought and paid for, secured with promises of gold, Greek drachma, and ample barley.
I delighted in bursting into his room, catching him off guard. The thrill of seeing him bare always stirred something within me. This time was no exception.
As I entered, the room seemed empty. But then, the bathroom door swung open, and Egremold emerged, a bath sheet elegantly wrapped around his waist.
My gaze roamed freely over his chiseled physique, drinking in the sight of his broad shoulders, defined chest, and smooth, masculine skin.
For a moment, I forgot to breathe.
Egremold piercing eyes met mine, a hint of surprise flickering across his face.
"My Queen," he said, his tone neutral.
I couldn't respond, transfixed by the droplets of water glistening on his skin.
His gaze narrowed, a silent warning.
"Her Majesty, what brings you here?"
My eyes remained locked on his, the tension between us palpable.
"Egremold," I said, my voice low and conspiratorial. "I have a task for you. One that requires utmost discretion."
Egremold's eyes sparkled with intrigue. "I'm at your service, my queen."
"I want you to ensure Theodore, Tarsus's son, remains... distant. Should he return, eliminate him Immediately."
Egremold's gaze flickered, but his expression remained steadfast.
"As you wish, my queen."
With Egremold on my side, Tarsus's fate was sealed.
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I stepped gently into the room, finding Draco deeply engrossed in his sorcery techniques. His passion for magic was truly remarkable.
As the palace's most skilled sorcerer, he had been granted the largest chamber, providing ample space for his arcane pursuits.
"Son, I've sent word to Gorvoth," I announced. "He'll arrive soon to further your magical education."
My words seemed to fall on deaf ears, as Draco merely stared at me without response.
I wasn't surprised; this was a familiar behavior.
He spoke only two to three times a day, and sometimes remained silent for the entire day.
I sat there, observing him. Suddenly, he rose and approached the door, rapping his hand against it. One of the guards rushed inside.
To my astonishment, Draco gestured for the guard to sit, using his hands to beckon him. I gasped, shocked by this unprecedented display of courtesy.
Never before had Draco offered a seat to anyone, not even me, his own mother. And certainly not to a mere guard.
He glared at me like he wanted me out of his room
I didn't hesitate, I stood up walking out of his quarter..
✍🏽Author's POV✍🏽
As Naomi departed, Draco waited patiently for her to leave, his eyes gleaming with sinister intent.
Once she was gone, he swiftly turned his attention to the guard, who sat silently, obediently following his orders.
Draco retrieved a crimson cloth and bound it around the guard's eyes, ensuring his vision was obscured. Next, he produced a razor-sharp knife from his locker, its glint echoing the malevolent spark within his eyes.
The guard remained still, his face a mask of submission, as Draco's hands moved with calculated precision.
Draco moved closer to the guard, the knife glinting in his hand. With a swift, merciless motion, he plunged the blade into the guard's chest, striking true and finding its mark in the heart.
The guard choked, blood bubbling from his lips as he struggled to draw a breath. Draco's grip on the knife remained firm, and with repeated, savage thrusts, he ensured the guard's life slipped away.
Blood pumped from the wound, splattering Draco's face with warm, crimson droplets. He stepped back, his eyes fixed on the guard's faltering form.
The guard's body jerked, then stilled, his eyes frozen in a permanent stare.
Draco's laughter echoed through the room, his stained yellow teeth gleaming with malevolence. He stepped closer to the guard, whose labored breathing grew shallower by the second.
With a twisted grasp, Draco plunged his hands into the guard's wounded chest, fingers closing around the punctured heart.
Blood gushed from the wound, drenching his hands and arms as he ripped the heart free.
The guard's body jerked, then stilled, his final breath escaping in a faint whisper.
Life fled his eyes, leaving behind a vacant stare.
Draco held the heart aloft, its rhythmic beats ceasing as the last traces of life faded. He gazed at the organ, his eyes aglow with an unholy light.
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Draco mixed the blood with purple smoke, hallucinogens, and other dark liquids, concocting a sinister potion. He raised the bowl to his lips and drank the contents in one swift motion.
As the liquid coursed through his veins, he unleashed a maniacal laugh, his mouth agape, revealing stained and yellowed teeth. The thought of his evil plans unfolding brought a twisted gleam to his eyes.
His mind consumed by ambition, Draco's sole focus was on eliminating his father and claiming the throne of Arcadia.
He craved the power and title of the youngest king the realm had ever known.
With his dark ritual complete, Draco felt an intoxicating rush of power course through his veins.
His eyes burned with an unnatural energy as he envisioned his father's demise.
"The time of reckoning draws near," he whispered, his voice dripping with malice.
As he spoke, the shadows around him seemed to deepen, as if darkness itself was responding to his call.
To be continue...
- Writer
