The King's dead

Minerva had just laid on her bed when a knock came to the door. She rolled over, and a crease formed on her forehead when she saw the shadow of a man beneath the door. The lights in the corridors made it possible for her to see the black, shiny stud boot.

Adjusting her dress, Minerva grabbed a candle stand from her bedside table. Moving towards the door, she placed her ears on the surface of it to listen for any danger.

Vincent stood outside the door Edwin had shown him was Minerva's room. He could hear the pitter-patter of her feet, and a smile formed on his lips.

After his father's mean remark against his mother, Vincent couldn't find the heart to visit her for the night. Instead, he would go to the base camp, where his men were waiting for him. But that would be after seeing Minerva.

The door slowly and quietly pulled open, and a small head full of red hair popped out. Amber eyes went wide when she saw who was standing at the door.

Immediately, Minerva scurried out of the room and shut the door quietly. Her chest heaving from excitement and surprise at the same time. Vincent allowed his eyes to roam her body, taking in the silk nightdress she was wearing, which contrasted beautifully with her creamy skin.

He had personally sent a letter to Camila Woods to make sure Minerva had everything she needed. He made sure her clothes would be made from fine silks, satins, and cotton.

“What are you doing here?” Minerva asked after a few minutes of silence. Her eyes on her feet, too shy to meet the prince's eyes.

The lit up long corridor was quiet while they stood there, lost in each other's thoughts.

“I came here to see you. You don't like it?” He asked.

Minerva's eyes immediately snapped up to look at him. “I do. It's just, you don't have to come by this time of the night, and you're a prince.” She looked away. Minerva hadn't felt so sad the way she was now after seeing him.

It was as if her life were fast-forwarding. She hadn't got the time to mourn her father, and hadn't settled down in the Academy. Then there are the dragons and Vincent's unwelcoming sister, and his advances towards her. He's royalty. She's nothing but a pauper and an orphan.

“Prince Vincent,” Minerva exhaled. “It's best if we don't see each other. For now.”

Hearing her address him formally, Vincent's jaw tightened as he stared at her with nothing but questions in his eyes. “Why?” He demanded from her, and she shook her head with a tight smile.

“We’re different. I have my dreams, you have yours—”

“What if I want you to be part of mine?” Vincent asked. His eyes darkened when he saw her purse her lips. He just wanted to capture them and show her how much he wanted her.

“Good night, Prince Vincent,” she wished and stepped back into her room, shutting the door with a quiet click. Her heart was heavy as she lay back on her bed.

Vincent stood like a statue outside the door, his shoulder stiff and crestfallen. Unable to fathom why Minerva suddenly changed, he turned around just to find Edwin Hawkins standing at the far end of the corridor. His golden eyes burning brightly like molten lava.

“She did the right thing, Vince. None of your family members will accept her in the first place, especially your father and grandfather. They're always persistent.” Edwin reasoned, but Vincent heard none of it.

Vincent threw an irritating glare at Edwin and shook his head, walking towards the staircase with Edwin behind him. “I know what I want and there's nothing they could do to change that!” He growled. His boot hitting the marble floor with all the strength and anger in him.

Edwin shook his head. “Vincent! The more you want her, the more danger she'll face. What happened on the field that day is spreading like wildfire—”

“I can protect her! I'm not a weak, lousy fellow, Edwin. Why all this? Why these conditions now that I interested in someone? She's mine! Better keep her safe here.” Saying that, Vincent stormed out of the building angrily.

Edwin exhaled and looked towards the direction of the third corridor. “Come out.” He drawled lazily.

Camila stepped out of the shadow with a frown on her face. Her footsteps hurried, and she came to stand in front of Edwin. “Tell me that was about the girl?”

Edwin grinned, “it was.”

***

“Have everyone been stationed at the borders?” Vincent asked as he marched towards the direction where the cat people were first seen a few days ago. For a long time now, the cat-family shifters have been coexisting peacefully with them. Nights before his arrival with Minerva, he heard that they were looking for something. Now, Vincent has neatly carved a plan to know what the cat people are hiding or what they are looking for. This plan also means catching them unexpectedly.

“Yes,” Philip replied and tightened his belt, tucking his and the prince's swords in a scabbard, they made for the direction the others were quietly waiting for the prince's signal.

Vincent didn't bother about bringing a rider because he didn't want the plan to be exposed to the cat people, hence, putting themselves at risk. He was still dressed in the clothes that he used to meet his parents at the ball.

As for Minerva's sudden change of heart, he would let her be. Just for now. Edwin was right about what he said of his father. The king is quite persistent, and he's the reason Dalton hasn't been happy since he turned a hundred years old.

Vincent had totally forgotten Philip was with him. Then there was a swoosh sound coming from behind him.

He looked over his shoulder and saw that Philip was gone. Red hair appeared for a fleeting moment and the atmosphere shifted as if a barrier had been placed around him.

He frowned, the flesh between his brows forming a crease as he stared blankly at the spot Philip was standing a few seconds ago.

Minerva was here in the woods. That was precisely what Vincent thought because he had never seen anyone with such hair as red as hers. But his unanswered question was: What was she doing here?

Before Vincent made a move, he first thought about his men, who were already stationed at the border? If the cat people just took Philip, then those at the border won't be safe. Nevertheless, that was among the reasons they have been training for a long time.

Heading back to the direction he came from, Vincent marched towards another part of the forest. His face was cold as ice, expressionless and rueful. His fingers were already in a fist, and the cat people won't be so stupid to attack him except otherwise.

Phillip’s scent stopped at the very spot Vincent was now standing, and his eyes skimmed the place, checking if there was something suspicious and of course, there was.

“Prince Vincent! It seems you don't know when to stop prying into other people's problems." A man with dark brown hair said with a smug on his face while staring at Vincent hastily.

Vincent's eyes met with slit like eyes. A man stood beside him, cladded in a black cat fur hood which covered every part of his body except his face.

“Where's Philip?” Vincent asked, his voice hushed but cold.

The man's jaw locked when he heard Vincent's threatening voice. Besides, it was a plan to distract Vincent from disrupting their plans tonight. Before Vincent could move towards the direction they had held Philip in chains, he immediately blacked the dragon prince.

Blue veins popped up on Vincent's forehead as he tried to suppress his anger. If he does anything rash, his men will be the one to suffer from his actions.

“You should move out of my way, or I'll do it.” This time, the man took the risk and attacked Vincent. Not prepared for what was about to happen, the man's blade sliced through Vincent's skin beneath his eyes. Tearing it open for the briefest moment as it started forming dark scales.

Grabbing the man's neck, Vincent raised him up and slammed him into the nearest tree. The man in the hood pushed up again, rushing towards Vincent. He caught hold of the prince's hand and was about to stab his knife into his flesh when cold air hit his skin.

Losing himself for a span of few minutes, Vincent hit him in the guts and the man doubled over. His body rammed into another tree, and he instantly tasted blood in his mouth. Curling into a ball on the ground, warm liquid flows out of his nose without stopping.

Vincent glared at the young man on the ground, whose skin was glowing under the moonlight. He was a water dragon shifter, and Vincent wondered what led to him being a dog for the cat people.

“What do they want, and why are you helping them? Turning your back on your kinds to serve such a lofty set of people?” Vincent asked. This young man was nothing but a traitor to his fellow water dragon shifter.

The man laughed hysterically and gagged, puking more blood. His eyes meet Vincent's, cold and hard, as every trace of pain is now gone. “None of us will be able to escape him, Prince Vincent. Not even you or your king.”

“It seems I know the “him” you're talking about, young man–”

“No, you don't,” he interrupted Vincent. “He wants his prize back. He'll get her, and you won't be able to do anything. Just wait and see.” The young man sneered.

Just then, Stan hurried towards Vincent and came to a sudden halt when he saw a water dragon shifter on the ground.

Vincent turned to look at his right-hand man with a tight frown. “What are you doing here?” His voice thundered against Stan’s ear, and the latter immediately bowed his head in respect. Stan was supposed to be at the border and not lurking in the middle of the forest.

Going on his knees, Stan presents a small dagger which was crafted from the scale of a dragon. It was a tradition that the Gaels had held on to for generations. After a king dies, the dagger is presented to the next in line to the throne.

Vincent stared at the dagger in shock and disbelief. Taking the knife, his fist slammed into Stan’s jaw, which sent the head of security flying a few feet away from him. “What kind of play is this, Stan!” Vincent yelled as black scales started forming around his neck and cheeks.

Stan immediately went on his knees again and this time, his head was resting on the ground. “The King is dead.”

Vincent dropped the dagger, which fell to his feet. His expression was filled with sorrow and nonacceptance that his father was dead. The man he had yelled at a few hours ago and left at the ball?

The young water dragon shifter was also caught in the element of shock and surprise as he looked from Stan to Prince Vincent.

The Prince dropped to his knees with a heavy heart as the scales on his skin slowly disappeared. Had he known his father's days would've ended today, he wouldn't have left him alone at the ball with his stepmother, who was not to be trusted.

His fingers found the hilt of the dagger which was made from Sapphire. “How did it happen?” Vincent asked. His voice sent chills in the air and the surrounding temperature dropped to the lowest.

“He was murdered. By the Gaels Governor when His late royal highness was drunk. Her royal highness fell unconscious when she heard the news from a maidservant.” Stan replied, his head still on the forest ground which was covered with dried twigs and leaves.

“Your presence is demanded at the castle. The councilmen are waiting.”