Dragon Prince

**Demon Prince

**

1**

Castle in my Mind

Sileas remembers so little about the countryside, but she remembered everything about her home, where her parents still reside. Safe and comfortable in a villa that her grandparents called inadequate and small. But her villa was home and perfect. And that’s all she ever let herself think about as she stood painfully still on the hall.

She ignored the pinchy shoes, the tight corset, or the uncomfortable pins in her hair. Her wedding dress had added most to her weight than her actual body weight, but she forced herself to think of something else. To remember something else other than here, which often means she’s thinking of home. Home home, not the cold mansion her grandparents lived in, but the villa that overlooked the ocean and welcomed in the warm breeze of the sea, where her parents lived their days in sunshine and warmth. A place that first embraced her and didn’t want to let her go.

Her mother would be sitting by the organ, her small but fast fingers played the melody of her childhood. Upbeat yet peaceful. Not too fast or too slow. The mere sound of her music would bring anyone in the villa to a hum or a skip as they tried to dance and follow her music. No one would be able to do the court dance with that song, but one could waltz to it.

Then her father would bring in tea with such ease, even though he was raised with titles and money. He loved making tea and preferred to serve the whole family his own concoction of tea. The taste of his tea was common but better and more distinct. She had drunk hundreds of other teas, but none of it was like the one she grew up with, countless of tea parties and lessons yet none of it were able to emulate her father’s tea.

All of them would be in the sitting room where the windows are the largest. That sitting room would be facing west rather than east to avoid the blazing heat of the morning sun as it rose but would meet the waning heat of the sunset and its wonderful orangey hues. Her mother loved sunsets more than sunrises anyway

If she strained hard enough, she could imagine herself entering the room and the warm faces of her favorite people would smile towards her direction. She had no nanny as her mother was a commoner and a human. She raised her closely and warmly. The only servants that tended to her were her mother’s own personal maid, Letiana, with her soft chuckles and warm hands that often brushed her hair.

“Stand straighter” a voice behind her stole her from her thoughts. From her home.

Sileas pulled her shoulders back. Her mind tries to remain in the setting sun of her home with the scent of the water palpable on her tongue.

An older woman with silver hair and lilac eyes stands beside her, and she could practically burn Sileas with her body heat. But she doesn’t move away or took a step back. She met the woman’s stare instead as the woman reminded her of her father, but less of the harshness.

“Remember what this means to our family, who you represent. Do not shame us.”

“Yes, grandmother” She answered politely. Her father’s eyes and nose are facing her.

Erimine looked at her with such coldness, it rivaled the heat of her physical body. “Do not” She hissed lowly. “Disappoint us.” A reminder. A threat. She had grown up with it for so long that the line between those words have blurred.

“I wouldn’t dare to” Sileas smiled, easy and warm. Her mother started to play her favorite tune in the organ. Her father inviting her to drink tea first before he’d asked her to dance the waltz with him.

Erimine’s cheek twitched. A growing wrinkle on her cheek from her slanting eyes. “Do not move an inch till he comes.”

“Yes, grandmother.” She tasted her father’s tea, and the flavor calmed every tense muscle in her body.

“Keep your mouth shut.”

“Yes, grandmother.” The smell of her home tickled her nose and made her giggle so strongly her father had to hug her still.

Erimine gave her one more glare before finally leaving her alone.

Sileas stared at the double doors. She ignored the sound of the multitude of people she doesn’t know and focused on the scene in her mind. Erimine have taken things from her but not this. Not the happiness and joy so rampant that it seemed to exist in the air around her or in the notes of her wedding organ. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine her own mother playing on that organ instead of a stranger.

A heavier set of footsteps came towards her, unfamiliar and new, but she doesn’t move to look towards its direction. She already knows who it could be.

The strong scent of ash and phosphorus greeted her as well, the strength was enough to make her memory slip, and the scent of her home faded from the forefront of her mind. This made her look at her groom.

She had never seen any other shifters other than her father. Her father was strong, but she has never seen him become violent or use his strength. This man beside her looks as if he wielded violence and strength with ease. His jaw is tight as if preparing himself to wield it on her.

She didn’t move but stared instead. Admired the wild and violent beauty of the crowned prince, who would soon be King. Her fiancé that she only saw a handful of times before today. She didn’t think he’d be this rugged. He didn’t shave so his Draconic silver facial hair are jutting out. His own head of hair is slicked back as if an afterthought. Deep set eyes that held so much rage and a strong nose that looked as if it could be stone on his face, but it was perfect.

The crown prince is absolutely a man of beauty and strength. She knows about the rumors, but she barely cared about any of them.

He could hurt her or kill her, but she doesn’t care.

He could call her names and ruin her title, but she doesn’t care.

He could violate her, but she wouldn’t care.

The crown Prince Eitr doesn’t look at her, and doesn’t seem to want to acknowledge her presence, and that’s okay to her.

Relief flooded her body. Her hands that clutched at her bouquet eased, but she could feel some of the stem is wedged under her nails now. She faced the door with ease and waited for the familiar sound of a large organ to echo and proliferate behind the doors.

Decorated guards opened the door for them. The groom walked further than her with his longer strides and he doesn’t waver, he even met everyone’s gaze with his vicious one. She, on the other hand, tried to keep up but doesn’t panic and kept her even grace in her strides.

She stifled the urge to laugh or the urge to look at her horrified grandparents but couldn’t stop the smile from showing.

All eyes were on them, but it was such an odd image. She’s sure of it, with her groom who looks as if he wanted to murder everyone in the room, stomping towards the altar, and a bride with odd black hair with silver streaks and an amused smile, tried to catch up to him.

The Priest of Aegir looked panicked for a moment but made no voice of it.

And the scene in her mind, momentarily forgotten.