Forbidden

Chapter Three

In the realm of Astualt, the annual Street Ball Feast was a cherished tradition, beckoning young adults from far and wide. As the event approached, the town transformed into a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation. Residents donned festive attire, their faces aglow with enthusiasm.

Anna trailed behind Marina, her eyes captivated by the exquisite gowns and delicate accessories showcased by market vendors. Groups of young ladies whispered in huddles, their voices trembling with excitement.

"Have you heard? The three princes of Astualt will attend this year's street ball!" one exclaimed.

"Does that mean we might have a chance at becoming the next queen?" another asked, her voice barely containing her eagerness.

Anna lacked the company of these girls, but she was grateful for Madelyn's friendship. The street ball had always been Anna's dream, but Marina's strict rules had always denied her freedom.

"If Marina won't let you attend, I'll sneak you out," Madelyn had promised, her voice determined.

Anna was puzzled over her confined life; the incense Marina made her burn at night. her father's mysterious departure on that rainy day. Marina's words still lingered: "Try to forget him, Anna. He was only here briefly."

As they walked, the wailing voice of Mrs. Bentley drew Anna's attention. The round, chubby woman showcased a gold hair band adorned with precious stones.

"This would suit Angel perfectly," Mrs. Bentley said, gesturing to Anna.

Marina corrected her with a glare. "That's not her name."

"Names are free you know." Mrs. Bentley protested, but Marina inspected the hairpin, finally approving it. "It's not bad."

As Marina secured the hairpin in Anna's ponytail, Mrs. Bentley exclaimed, "Isn't she pretty? Even, the demons would covet her.

Marina's eyes darkened. "Watch your words, woman."

Mrs. Bentley retreated, laughing nervously.

As they left the stall, Anna seized the opportunity to mention the street ball. "Mama, it's only a week away. The three princes will be attending."

Marina's expression remained impassive. "All the more reason you won't attend."

Anna persisted, giggling. "Who knows? I might catch a prince's eye."

Marina's voice firmed. "Give up such ambitions, young lady. Nothing good comes from associating with the cursed."

The Royal Castle of Astualt loomed over the kingdom, its grandeur a testament to the monarch's absolute power. The castle's interior was a maze of secrets, with whispers among commoners suggesting it would take years to uncover all its hidden passages and chambers. Those who ventured inside spoke of an eerie atmosphere, as if the castle's opulent halls radiated an unsettling energy.

Rumors had long circulated about King Calhoun's alleged possession by a dark entity. This dark secret had remained hidden for over a decade, known only to the royal family.

Calhoun's rise to power had been contentious, with many questioning his right to the throne as an illegitimate child. In reality, he was a puppet king, controlled by the influential Lord Eldrid Tharold.

In Astualt, three powerful families held power: the Calonias, Vynnars, and Tharolds. The Tharolds, however, wielded unparalleled influence, with Eldrid pulling the strings from behind the scenes.

To secure Eldrid's backing, Calhoun had married Elsa Tharold, forsaking his first wife, a daughter of the Vynnar family. For seven years, Calhoun ruled with caution, hiding his true nature.

But one fateful morning, a sense of foreboding settled over the kingdom. A putrid stench of blood filled the air, signaling a drastic change within the king. Calhoun's thirst for blood became insatiable; executions skyrocketed, and the courtroom ran red with the blood of his opponents.

Overnight, the once-weak king transformed into a ruthless tyrant, defying even the Tharold family's control. Rumors of his possession spread far and wide, striking fear into the hearts of Astualt's citizens.

The possessed king's depravity knew no bounds; he forcibly took a humble farmer's daughter as his own, fathering a son with her. Four years of unrelenting terror and oppression ensued.

When the evil entity finally left Calhoun's body, the damage was done. The royal family shunned the third wife, branding her the consort of a monster and the mother of a demon child.

A sinister conspiracy unfolded, culminating in her tragic execution.

As the first light of dawn crept over the palace walls, the grand halls and corridors stirred to life. Servants scurried about, lighting candles and lanterns, while footmen polished silverware and grooms readied the royal carriages.

In the private quarters, Prince Shoran stirred, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His maid, Melisa stood beside his bed with a basket, a warm smile on her face.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Melisa said, helping Shoran sit up.

Shoran yawned, running a hand through his unruly hair. "What time is it?"

"Breakfast with the family is in thirty minutes, sir," Melisa replied, efficiently assisting him with his morning routine.

Shoran expression darkened. "Must I attend?"

Melisa's eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'm afraid so, Your Highness, you know how peculiar the king is with the Royal breakfast, yet you always appear late. You will get on the king's bad side if you appear late to the breakfast today again."

Shoran sighed, resigned. Tension filled every breakfast gathering, the sharp eyes waiting to catch on every one of his little mistakes, the tongues waiting to criticize him at any slight chance, and his stepbrothers locked in a silent struggle for power.

As Melisa tied his cravat, her fingers brushed against the deep thick scar on his right upper shoulder. She blew gently on it, sending a shiver down his spine. He caught her gaze, and for an instant, they shared a connection that went beyond servant and master.

"Does it still hurt much?" She asked almost in whispers.

Shoran closed his eyes, taking in the moment. "Yes, mostly on rainy nights," Shoran said, his voice low.

When Shoran's mother passed away, Melisa was brought into the palace to serve the young prince as his maid. Shoran and Melisa shared a deep connection that went beyond mere servitude, a bond built on trust.

After the hot morning bath, Shoran was dressed in simple yet elegant clothing made of velvet in beige colors with minimal embellishments.

Shoran has always been peculiar about what to wear to avoid attention from other Royal members. Despite his handsome features, such as piercing blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones, he deliberately dresses in a full and careless manner to avoid provoking his brother's resentment.

He was seated in front of the large mirror with Melisa dressing his hair to fall to his shoulder length. He stares at Melisa's reflection, her perfectly curved face lodging a pair of bulgy eyes, a pointed nose, and a small lip.

"Melisa, you look lovely today." He said in a low tone.

Melisa's cheeks flushed, but she maintained her professionalism. "Thank you, sir. Shall I help you with your coat?"

Shoran nodded, watching as Melisa expertly draped the coat over his shoulders.

"You know, Melisa" Shoran began, his voice hesitant, "sometimes I wish I could escape these... obligations."

Melisa's eyes met his, understanding reflected in their depths. "I know, sir. But you have duties to fulfill."

Shoran's gaze lingered on hers, longing to confide in her, to break free from the suffocating protocol.

"Let's get through breakfast, shall we?" Melisa suggested, her voice soft.

With Melisa by his side, Shoran steeled himself for the ordeal ahead. Here's the scene:

Kayl, perched on a tree branch within the palace grounds, his eyes fixed on Shoran and Melisa walking toward the breakfast hall. He shifted into his preferred form, a sleek black bat, and settled beside Xaren, who was also in a bat form.

"Observe, kayl," Xaren whispered, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. "The Third Prince, he must be the third prince. I can sense the keeper's energy as if it is him."

Xaren, also in bat form, tilted his head. "Shouldn't you learn to address me as your Master? You're surviving on my energy; it will take years to repay that favor."

Xaren's gaze narrowed. He would have to put up with Kayl's humiliation to get back to his normal self. He calmed his demon and, with a sly smile, replied, "Forgive me, Master, I must have forgotten my place for a moment."

Kayl ignored Xaren and watched as Shoran and Melisa disappeared into the breakfast hall, Kayl's attention turned to the palace's intricate stone carvings.

"The Royal Family's facade is crumbling, Xaren. Tensions simmer beneath the surface. The keeper must have taken advantage of these cracks and possessed the king."

"Although my Master loves to be at the center of power, he never took advantage of the cracks. King Calhoun summoned him."

Kayl fluttered his wings, slightly surprised. "A mere human can not summon the keeper; how did he manage to summon him?" He asked.

"I wouldn't know the details." Xaren spatted. He looked over at Kayl for a while, lost in thought.

Kayl noticed his gaze from the corner of his eyes. "Do you have anything you wish to tell me? Quit the gaze, it's annoying." He said.

Xaren's voice dropped to whispers of concern. "Have you thought of the unsaid danger? You do not know the depth of the power surging through him, what if you dissipate before you could have him? The full moon is only four days from now, you should start taking action."

Kayl's eyes glinted in the morning light not bothered by Xaren's words. "Not yet. I'll observe, wait for the perfect moment to strike. I can't dissipate that easily."

With a flick of their wings, the two bats vanished into the palace's shadows, unseen and unheard.