Page 19 of Reign of Betrayal

“You will bow to your Royal Highness when he greets you. Disrespect him again, and you will get a backhand,” my guard growls.

I shoot him an irritated look. I can handle my subjects. I don’t need anyone to do it for me. I don’t need anyone for anything, as a matter of fact. I will have words with him later about this.

“Now, that’s quite enough. I am sure this prisoner was just spitting the blood out of her mouth, and I am sure she was about to bow for me. Isn’t that right, prisoner?” I ask, smoothly.

She isn’t looking at me now. She is staring straight ahead, refusing to meet my eyes. That just won’t do.

I take a step closer to her kneeling body. I place my fingers under her bloody chin and raise her blazing gaze to meet mine. She looks at me with such hatred. I smile widely at her fierceness, her boldness, and her recklessness when faced with someone like me. “Right, prisoner?” I ask again, raising an eyebrow.

She jerks her chin out of my hand. “Yes.” Her tone is as cold as shards of ice as she remains there on her knees.

“You can stand now, if you want—unless you like being on your knees in front of me,” I tease. “But if that’s the case, let’s make this more interesting.” I toy with my belt buckle, mockingly.

She scoffs in irritation at me. I swear I see the faintest blush rise onto her cheeks as she stands quickly. Kylo chuckles, and I join him with a low laugh.

I continue down the line, inspecting the rest of the prisoners.

“Alright prisoners, wrists out,” I command. “My guards will be placing marcanite shackles on you. We don’t need you getting any ideas while we head to the palace.”

One by one, my guards fasten the marcanite manacles around their wrists, neutralizing any magic they might possess. Then, we march them out of the underground prison.

The rideto the castle is long, quiet, and thankfully, uneventful. The prisoners behave surprisingly well, and thank the gods and goddesses, we have not encountered any beasts or any Necrums on our journey.

After a tiring ride, we finally reach the palace. As the carriage halts, Kylo and I jump out. The moon hangs high in the night sky, shrouded by feathery clouds that mute its light. It casts an eerie, dimmed glow on our surroundings.

I step up to one of the carriages and unlock the door, releasing the four prisoners. Extending my hand, I help three of them down. The fourth and final prisoner comes into my view, and it’sher. She looks at my hand and scoffs. She doesn’t take it as she exits on her own. I can’t help but grin, amused by her stubbornness.

Once all the prisoners are out of the carriages, I face them.

“You will now be brought before your king. Be on your best behavior. If you are not, you will be sent back to the Hollows to live out the rest of your miserable lives in that hellhole.”

I spin on my heel and head toward the palace. The prisoners trail behind me like lost pups.

Suddenly, cold metal presses against my neck. “This is for killing my brother! You are all corrupt! Death to the royals! Death to you all!” The female prisoner’s scream cuts through the night as I realize that it’s her shackles around my neck.

I immediately duck, shifting my weight back, and flip her over my shoulder onto the dirt. Before the woman even has a chance to get off the ground, my sword is in my hand, and I bring the blade’s side against her throat. It slices through flesh and bone in one swift, clean motion, severing her head from her body. Blood spurts all over my face from the impact of the sword to her neck, while her body thuds to the ground. My breath comes heavy and fast—she caught me off guard. I am never caught off guard, and I don’t know what to think of that. I turn to the rest of the prisoners, all of whom look at me, wide-eyed, jaws on the ground.

“Let’s not get any ideas, prisoners,” I warn, wiping the blood from my eyes. “Or your fate will be worse than hers.”

I leave the body where it lies, blood pooling across the ground, and head toward the palace. Each thud of my boots against the cobblestone pathway is a reminder of the past sins I have committed, while the wind whispers of who I’ve committed them for.

After following the path for a moment, we walk through the heavy wrought iron gate until we approach the front doors of the palace.

The towering structure looms monstrously against the dark horizon. Its sheer size intimidates newcomers almost as much as the magical power, we royals, wield. The white, haunted stones and sky-reaching pillars gleam under the eerie moon, giving it an ominous feel—an unwelcoming hello to the prisoners at my back. The palace is adorned with gold and red accents, which are a stark contrast to the white, hinting to the nefarious secrets hidden behind the thick front doors.

Inside, I lead the prisoners through the halls until we reach the throne room. My father, the king, sits on the throne. His wife and my two sisters are nowhere to be found.

I signal the prisoners to come in and line up before my father. They all bow before standing upright—even her. I take my place, standing next to my father’s throne.

He stands to address the prisoners. His golden crown sits proudly on his head, giving him the illusion that he is almost my height. His shoulder length black hair sways with his movements.

“You have been chosen to compete in the Royal Trials. Only my inner circle and palace court know about it.” My father clasps his hands, and strides toward the prisoners. “I need a single champion.”

He walks the line of prisoners, his sharp gaze assessing each one.

“There will be several rounds. The person who wins the trials will be my champion. I need someone that is reliable, deadly, cunning, and most importantly… someone who can follow commands without question.”

Once he reaches the end of the prisoners, he abruptly turns – making his way back to his throne to sit.

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