Dove thrashed and yelled as the thugs forcibly restrained his hands behind his back, the coarse rope biting into his flesh like a venomous serpent. His pleas echoed through the air, a desperate cry for freedom amidst the grip of danger.
"I'm just a commoner. I don't have any money with me. So let me go before actual harm comes your way," Dove hollered, his voice laced with a mix of fear and defiance.
The leader, a towering figure with a seven-foot frame and a visage adorned by a deep scar that traced a jagged path from his left eye to his chin, roughly grabbed Dove's shoulders, shoving him backward. Stumbling under the guard's force, Dove instinctively reached out his right hand to steady himself, only to be reminded of the cruel reality of his bound wrists.
As the tension in the air thickened, a pulsating heat surged within Dove's head, throbbing with an uncomfortable intensity. He fought to keep his eyes open, resisting the weight of exhaustion that threatened to consume him. Each breath felt like a rasping struggle, the dry air scratching at his throat, while his neck throbbed with stiffness and pain.
His tongue darted out to moisten his parched lips, and he exerted all his strength to yank at the ropes binding his hands, hoping for a moment of reprieve. But his efforts only resulted in an intensifying ache, the knots tightening with an unforgiving grip. Frustration mingled with anger, fueling his determination to break free from this predicament.
"Why have you captured me? What is the reason for this?" Dove's voice rang out once more, defiance tinged with a flicker of desperation.
"You need to learn to shut your smart mouth, commoner. Or should I say, your highness?" The thug sneered, his words dripping with malice.
Dove's throat tightened, fear coursing through his veins. They knew his secret, exposing the truth he had desperately tried to conceal from the kingdom.
A figure emerged from the shadows, stepping out from behind a towering tree. It was the royal advisor, the orchestrator of this treachery.
Dove's stomach clenched, his heart burning with a mix of anger and betrayal. "You? Has my stepmother instructed you to do this? Listen, it's still not too late. Think about your wife and kids. Let me go, and I'll ensure you don't face severe punishments."
"We must get rid of you, and this is the perfect opportunity. Your stepmother didn't set me up for this. The old cow still needs you to be alive until you turn eighteen for legal issues. I'm doing this for myself, not for her, to finally complete my revenge," the advisor revealed, his voice laced with venom.
"Revenge?" What had Dove ever done to the old man? Was it political? "If you're after the throne, why target me? I'm not sitting on it right now."
"Fear not. Once I get rid of you, your stepmother will be next. It's about time someone did something about you filthy royals. The palace has been keeping the people's money, and for what? Their spending? So they can throw some fancy balls and wear expensive dresses? Do you realize that more than half of the kingdom's treasury comes from the poorest of people in the kingdom? Your stepmother hires thugs like these who beat them to a pulp if they aren't able to pay the taxes on time just so that royals like you and her can keep living extravagantly. Your entire family makes me sick! "
"Okay, I'm not saying that you're wrong, but how do I come into this?" Dove asked.
"All the political arrangements, the corruption, and the unjust spending are reason enough. On top of that, there is the day my brother died."
"Your brother?" Dove asked, appalled. He was struggling to piece together bits of information and barely grasping the threads of the conversation.
The old man clenched his hands into fists. "Your father took my brother's life!"
"No, my father was not a murderer. I refuse to believe that."
"In the war against Ellesmere, my brother was the chief commander of the royal guards at the time. He had to throw himself in front of an attacker's blade to save your father. Just because the king had some 'divine right.' God save the king!' 'Protect the king always.' Fuck that notion! Why is your father's life prioritized over my brother's?"
"How is it my dad's fault that your brother was killed in combat? And the royal guards willingly sign up to protect the king. No one forces them," Dove said.
"The heck he did! The king was the target, not my brother but he was the one who had to give up his life. I suffered because of your family and now I want your entire family to suffer as well. Who do you think gave the queen the idea of removing your sister's medication?" he smirked with pride.
Rage filled Dove's heart. "You fool! He was a willing soldier. He wasn't forced into the service." He kicked the advisor on his left thigh with all his might. The advisor hit the ground with a loud thud. Two of the thugs rushed and engulfed Dove in their grip to prevent him from causing any further damage.
The advisor rose to his feet and spat at Dove. "My associates are planted everywhere within the kingdom just waiting for my command to dismantle the monarchy while I decide the most amusing way to kill each one of you."
Dove gritted his teeth, the tension coursing through his body. In the distance, the faint sound of a horse neighing reached his ears, echoing through the stillness of the night. It carried the promise of a passing carriage, a glimmer of hope in his desperate situation. This was his chance, the opportunity he had been waiting for to escape the clutches of this deranged advisor.
Dove's voice pierced through the air, a desperate cry for help carried by the winds of uncertainty. He strained his ears, hoping against hope that the occupants of the approaching carriage were benevolent souls who could offer him salvation. The weariness settled deeper within him with each passing moment, his parched throat protesting as he swallowed, the meager saliva providing a fleeting moment of relief in the desert of his mouth.
His captor snatched a dirty bandana from his pocket and gagged Dove with it, effectively silencing him. He threw Dove over his shoulder and ran to hide himself and Dove from his potential rescuers.
Dove's struggles intensified, a desperate fight against the binds that held him captive. The rhythmic crunch of the carriage wheels gradually ceased, and a hush fell upon the scene.
A figure emerged from within the carriage, commanding Dove's attention with his striking handsomeness. His features exuded a regal aura, a few years senior to Dove. Immaculately groomed blonde hair was slicked back, revealing chiseled cheekbones and a strong jawline. Beneath a gentle brow, his hazel eyes danced with flickering golden specks.
Clad in regal attire, the man's physique emanated strength and definition. The vibrant emerald color of his garments complemented his fair complexion, hinting at his royal status.
'He must be a royal, perhaps even a prince,' Dove pondered, a glimmer of hope flickering within him.
As the man made his way toward the bushes, three guards accompanied him, their presence adding to the air of authority and protection.
"Is anyone here? Hello?" The man's voice carried a note of urgency, a deep furrow forming between his brows as his eyes narrowed in concern.
Dove thought of an idea that might help him get the prince's attention. Using his awkward position, he jabbed the thug holding him using his elbow near his abdomen.
He kicked over the tree trunk nearby with full impetus. The prince turned towards the sound. Dove repeated his movements twice before the thug recovered and stopped him.
Dove let out a muffled cry of pain as the man exerted his massive weight over Dove's feet, and he struggled to move his hands and legs. And the more he moved, the more the rope bit into his skin.
After what seemed like eons, the prince cut through the shrubs and the bushes to reveal Dove and the guard behind him. Dove pleaded with the prince with his eyes to help him escape.
"What is the meaning of this? Let the boy go!" The man yelled.
All six thugs gathered around Dove. The royal advisor followed closely behind. They took a fighting stance, raising their swords in the air, ready to attack the man.
The prince had his sword ready.
Even though he and his guards were outnumbered, they did not flee.
Holding the sword over his left shoulder, he waited for his opponent to make his move. In a traditional kendo stance, his opponent quickly slid forward and cut at his left arm. However, the prince's sword had already intercepted his, allowing him to trap his blade on his hilt and execute a stab.
The thug, also the heavier swordsman, attempted to overpower the prince using his increased armor to cover the normal vulnerabilities.
However, his plate was cumbersome and became more restricted during swings. The prince danced past the swing of the sword gracefully. He landed a blow behind his knee with the arming sword to send the thug off balance. Once he landed on the ground, the prince swung his sword backward and sawed him off from his abdomen. A pool of blood surrounded his body.
Bile rose in Dove's throat as he took in the thug's state. The guards quickly dispatched the rest of their opponents.
With a determined expression, the prince reached out, his hands deftly working to undo the tight bindings that held Dove captive, his fingers gentle yet purposeful.
"Don't worry," the mystery rescuer reassured in a voice that carried both strength and compassion, "I'll help you."
Unbeknownst to him, a lurking danger concealed in the shadows, the advisor poised his sword for a treacherous strike. Hidden from the prince's sight, there was no way for him to anticipate the imminent threat.
"Your Highness, watch out!" one of the man's guards bellowed, panic lacing his voice. But their warning came too late, the words lost in the chaotic symphony of unfolding events.
A deep bruise tore through the prince's already-injured hand as a deep slash marred his flesh, eliciting a gasp of anguish that hung in the air.
The prince's breath caught in his throat as he swiftly spun, his eyes narrowing in determination. With a powerful thrust of his sword, he engaged in a fierce duel with the advisor, their blades clashing in a symphony of steel. The prince's movements were fluid and precise, seamlessly transitioning from one attack to the next, never allowing the advisor to find his footing.
The advisor desperately parried and attempted to counter, but the prince pressed on relentlessly, refusing to relinquish the advantage. His unwavering resolve fueled each strike, driving the advisor further on the defensive.
Finally, with a calculated maneuver, the prince's blade slipped past the advisor's guard, the swift motion transforming what could have been a fatal strike into a deep gash across the advisor's neck. The air filled with the sound of choking and gurgling as blood poured from the grievous wound. The advisor dropped to his knees, his trembling hand reaching futilely to staunch the flow before growing still. His eyes closed, sealing his fate.
After quickly surveying the area for any remaining threats, the prince hurried to Dove's side, his sword becoming a tool of liberation as he skillfully cut through the ropes that bound him. With the bindings removed, the prince's touch turned tender as he placed his hand affectionately on Dove's cheek. Dove flinched momentarily, startled by the sudden contact, but didn't resist.
"Have you hurt anywhere?" the prince inquired, concern lacing his voice as he searched Dove's face for signs of distress.
With a shake of his head, Dove indicated that, aside from the rope marks and a few bruises, he was unharmed. Relief washed over the prince's features.
"Okay, good," he responded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
Expressing his gratitude, Dove declared his intention to return to his place, but as he took a step forward, the prince intercepted him, catching his wrist and encircling his torso with a firm yet gentle grip.
"Not so fast, little prince," the prince asserted, his voice carrying a mix of determination and intrigue, "I can't let you leave so soon."
A/N
Hi thanks so much for the read! If you enjoyed please leave a vote or a comment that's the best way to support me! Thanks so much xx, Anne.