forum Kingdoms of metallic scarlet ((one-on-one//private// 18+))

Started November 04, 2023 by @ElderGod-Carrots

tune

Dominic stayed quiet as he was shown around the palace making note of where the important rooms were and the ones he could more or less forget about. There was no use trying to remember where each guest room was, or a certain tea room that he liked the look of when he would not be frequenting them often, if at all, during his stay. Sure, he liked to explore, to try and find new places and hideaways from the rest of the world around him, but there was something about how this palace wasn't his own that made it uncomfortable for him to want to explore. Even being in the astronomy tower, no matter if the princess had granted permission for him to be in there, would really feel the same as his own.

It was strange. Since it had just been him and his father, the Verillian palace had never quite felt like home. Not since there was an absence where three of his closest people should be. There were two rooms that remained untouched by the world, gathering dust on the old chestnut cabinets and beds that his brothers should have outgrown. Time passed around them, where the clothes began to decay, eaten away by moths, just as the once vibrant curtains had done. Where the windows slowly grew clouded over by sun damage that not even the best cleaners could remove. Not that they tried. There were strict orders for those rooms to be left alone. No one was allowed in or out. Well, no one but Dominic, even though he shouldn't really have been in there. As a child after his brothers' deaths, the crown prince had spent many nights asleep in their beds, savouring the last of their scents, the last blankets and pillows they had once touched. Octavian had caught him after a few weeks and banned him from the rooms, but that hadn't stopped him. Dominic only became sneakier about it.

As he followed the princess around the palace he wondered if he would ever see those rooms again. It didn't matter if they were covered with dust and grime now, if they no longer held the smell of his brothers or mother's perfume from the nights she spent cuddled up with her boys, it had been their space. A family space. Any trance of that had vanished the day that three died, along with the part of Dominic's heart never to be replaced. It didn't matter how many lovers he had, or how many apologies he was given, it would never, ever, replace what was lost.

Dominic's attention peaked and was drawn from his thoughts when they neared the armoury. Now that was more like it. He could have pouted when Ariella practically banned him from picking a weapon until his arm was healed, "My arm is fine. I've fought with worse." Not a lie, but he left out the part where it hurt like hell to lift his sword for a while, "I'll be perfectly capable of lifting a weapon by tomorrow afternoon." He needed to get his hand back on the smooth steel that he loved so much. Had to get back to training. If he was to defeat his father he needed to keep up his training. Needed to make sure he was prepared. That the army of Araniel was prepared, too. Maybe he could speak to the captain of the guard at some point, train with him, and learn about the army that he would be fighting with.

Wandering by the dungeons, he almost smirked. Dominic refrained. Even though he had left Verillia, there was still the part of him that his father had trained and ingrained into him settled in his soul. A part that many knew the prince for. The fact that he was a vicious killer, a man with no mercy for the prisoners that his kingdom housed. A man who came out of cells grinning when he was covered in blood and basked in the sound of screams. It wasn't something he was proud of, but Dominic wouldn't deny that it ran in his blood to enjoy torture. The only difference between him and his father, however, was that he would never lay a hand on someone who was innocent. Never touch a child, a woman, or anyone of that nature. His father was a different story, and their similarities ended at the line of who they liked to inflict pain upon, "I'm sure I will visit soon enough," He slipped a hand into his pocket, "Please, direct us to the gardens."

Ariella's eyes shifted to the wound covered by bandages and sleeves. Her eyes lifted back up to him. "You will wait until your stitches come out. If you do not, you risk prolonging the injury or even contracting an infection. An infection will keep you away from the front and far away from any fighting while you heal or succumb to the infection. Then all of this would have been for nothing." She put her hand on her hip, eyebrow raised as if begging for him to disagree with her. "Five days. You will let your arm heal for five days and then we will see if the stitches can come out. I'll remove them myself." Stitches were easier to take out than they were to put in, and she was proficient in both. She would be able to tell any signs of infection and judge how well the wound was healing. They never even had to leave his bathroom. She could do it just as well in there as she could in the infirmary.

"Just because you can't train, doesn't mean you cannot do anything. You can still train my brother without having to lift a sword yourself. You can sit down with Eric and my father's war general and discuss strategies. You know everything there is about your father's army. How they move, how they operate. Tell them. Tell them Verillia's weaknesses and their strengths. Where you think they will strike first. Your father has lost the element of surprise now that we have you. What will he do instead?" Dominic was useful for more than just his sword. His mind was just as, or even more, important. He knew everything there was about the Verillian army. Verillia may be stronger and more powerful, but knowledge may yet help them win this war. If Araniel's army could exploit those weaknesses, they might yet have a chance to win.

The glass doors to the gardens opened and Ariella was hit with the onslaught of floral perfumes. She tried, and failed, not to make a face as the scents assaulted her nose. It was too strong and too many and she knew a headache would be upon her soon. She only hoped they didn't stay too long here and continued in the courtyard. Her nose was sensitive to particular scents and the garden happened to be one of those. She dreaded every time she had to be here.

"Araniel's soil is rich and fertile. Our garden holds many flowers you won't find anywhere else. This is but a taste of what we have to offer. There's a botanical garden on the west side of the city much larger than this one. You'll have to see it someday." Without Ariella, for she wouldn't even be able to make it halfway through before her headache would be too grave and her nose too runny. He would have to go by himself or with someone else as a guide.

Ariella walked down the steps into the garden along the main path. Just in the center of the garden was a water fountain. The water fountain was three tiers with two pegasuses at the top, wings flared and rearing at one another. It was beautiful. Ariella would spend more time at the benches surrounding the fountain if not for the headaches she received. She dipped her hand into the cool water, her fingertips skimming along the surface. Just as she looked back at Dominic, her face scrunched and she let out a small sneeze. "Sorry," she almost squeaked as she pressed a hand to her nose. She really needed to get out of these gardens.

Dominic could have whined like a Gods damned child. Five days? Five whole days where he wasn't able to pick up a sword? What kind of fuckery was that? That wasn't fair. The sword was his whole life. Fighting was his whole life. He was a soldier, what else did Ariella expect him to do with his free time? He didn't know how much free time he would have, really, because meetings with Galen and the court would take up most of his time with only small breaks in between. He needed to train, needed to keep in shape- as if five days off wouldn't do him good in the long run.

Really he needed the break. The prince had a habit of training until he couldn't do anything else. Until he was so tired and out of it that he had no choice but to pass out in his chambers. He trained until his legs were jelly and the metal was heavy and someone needed to drag him away from the training ring. And sure, he could try and train Everand while he was out for the next few days but the chances were that the other prince wouldn't even pick the weapon up. Fuck, he might not even look at a sword or a bow until Dominic was able to show him how it was done. He seemed like the type to disregard fighting in its entirety, and there really wasn't much that Dominic could do. He had a feeling, too, that Ariella would pound his head in if she caught him with a weapon in hand between now and when the stitches were out. He wouldn't put it past her to do something of that nature. Well, if she could reach, that was.

He chose to stay silent and wallow as Ariella directed them to the gardens. Flowers always cheered him up. Anything of that nature cheered him up. The prince loved the sun. Verillia was one of, if not the southernmost kingdom on the continent. They experienced the hottest weather but regardless of that, nature thrived and adapted in ways it would never have done so in other kingdoms, such as Araniel. Plants that grew here would not grow back in Verillia, and vice versa, making the prince excited to see what types of plants he would find in the gardens that he had not seen before. He wondered if there would be big, towering flowers with colours bright and electric, and was lucky that it didn't take long before they reached their destination. Where Ariella tried not to breathe in the scents, Dominic did the opposite, taking in a long, deep inhale as he practically tasted the smells that graced his nose and senses. It was warmer in the greenhouse gardens, and it reminded him of home.

Well, at least there were now two places in the palace that he would be able to frequent and enjoy. Three, if one counted the training grounds, but he was currently banned from those thanks to a certain princess by his side. All the flowers were stunning. Different shapes and sizes and colours, decorated in patterns that he had never seen before. For the second time that day, something resembling a small smile graced his lips as he took in the gardens as they walked, enjoying the warmth as well as the scenery.

Dominic huffed a very faint chuckle, "Bless you." He said in response, lazily wandering to the water's edge as he trained his eyes on the fountain. It was magnificent. A fine work of art, really. His hand dipped into the water as he leaned over and watched his reflex, "The gardens are beautiful. I have a feeling I will be back here sooner rather then later."

Ariella almost laughed at the pouting prince at her side. It was laughable. The prince was well over six feet tall. He was abnormally tall, freakish almost, how he towered over everyone. He had a muscular build which only told everyone around him how much he trained his body. Ariella doubted there was an ounce of fat on his body. So the mere thought of his pouting was entertaining, but seeing him pout him person, now that truly was amusing. Had she not thought that he would have pushed her into the fountain, she would have poked his pout and turned it into a smile. But he could have pushed her into the fountain with a touch of his finger. And Ariella didn't particularly feel like getting soaking wet today. Or explaining to everyone as she passed by them in the halls to her room why she was wet.

Spring had come and so had the heat, their kingdom shedding the last of the winter cold. Soon it would be warm enough to venture out to the spring she found years ago. Warm enough that the cool spring would soothe the skin and a dip in the water was appreciated after the ride through the heat and blazing sun hitting the skin. It had been Everand and herself that had found it. Their guards had turned their backs as the siblings had stripped to their underclothes and jumped in the water. Since then, they had brought clothing suitable for the water but their guards always turned their backs to them. Not for Everand's modesty. His didn't matter. It was for her, Ariella. They would not soil their minds with the imagine of her in a bathing suit. Even with her reassurance that it would stay between them.

"You'll have to come back another time. And preferably without me. My allergies don't allow me to spend more than a few minutes here," she said, already rounding the fountain and walking towards the exit on the other side of the gardens. Just beyond the gardens, the hedge mazes were just behind. Ariella was in no way trying to attempt to go into them. She used the mazes for kissing boys she certainly shouldn't be kissing. It wasn't a place she wanted to bring Dominic into.

"You're already familiar with the front gate so we'll go around the back. It's where we house the stables and there's multiple trails and a smaller, second gate leading out into the woods behind the palace." It was a short walk to round the side of the palace and reveal the back of the palace. There were the stables, horse trails, and a couple of livestock pens. The smell intensified as they neared. And, ironically, it didn't seem to bother Ariella. She spent enough time around the stables that the stench no longer bothered her.

Instead of skipping around the stables and continuing to the other side of the palace, she ducked inside of the stables. Her maids would throw a fit later when they saw the mess at the hem of her skirt but she didn't particularly care. The stains would come out, or they wouldn't and the dress would be thrown away or cut to scraps for another gown. She might be able to petition for it to be donated to the local theater. She tried to donate all of her old gowns there. Over half of the stalls were filled with horses, including the horse that Dominic had ridden into. Ariella swiped a carrot and held it up to the horse, scratching his chin as he took it from her.

"He'll be alright," a voice called out as a stable hand walked out of a stall. "Some rest is all he needs. We'll feed him well and let him out to stretch his legs but I wouldn't recommend taking him out for a ride for some time. I could recommend another stallion for you if you're looking to ride." It had to have been obvious that they weren't, what with how Ariella was dressed, but he was kind enough to offer anyway.

Ariella turned to him and offered him a kind smile. "We're not looking to ride today, Emory, but thank you. I just wanted to check on the horses, and see how Buttercup is doing. I was wondering if Lady has had her pups yet as well." Lady was a Weimaraner that her father often used for hunting. A few months after a particular hunting trip, Lady began showing signs that she was pregnant. Everyone has been anxiously waiting to see if the pups she has is from one of the other hunting dogs or some beast or other she found in the woods.

Emory smiled. "Not yet. I told you, I would send word as soon as she did." He began walking through he's table, Ariella following behind him. As they passed by Buttercup's stall, he handed Ariella an apple to feed to her mare. She held it up to the horse, murmuring to her as the mare ate. She hadn't ridden Buttercup in quite some time, a lot longer than she would like to admit. She had been dealing with so much as of late she just hadn't had the time to take her out. Buttercup exercised daily but it wasn't the same as taking her out on a trail or into town. She would need to ride her soon.

A Buttercup finished the apple, Ariella moved on until they reached a seemingly empty stall until she looked in it. Lady was sprawled out on a bed of blankets, food and water at her disposal, and very much pregnant. As Ariella stuck her head in there, Lady popped her head up and grinned at Ariella. Or, grinned as well as a dog could. Ariella stepped inside the stall and knelt on the ground to put the dog. Her grey fur was sleek and soft under her hand. Lady nuzzled her head into Ariella's lap until the princess was sitting down on the bed of blankets and Lady halfway on top of her. She certainly didn't fit very well on Ariella.

Dominic would definitely be returning to the gardens if he found some time on his hands. They were so beautiful, and grand. There would be spaces in there that were begging to be explored, calling his name as if enchanting him with their colours and scents. Maybe he was just going crazy from the overload of fumes in such a space, but he didn't care. The gardens were magnificent. Had Ariella not shown him the astronomy tower first, he would have said that this was his favourite place in the Araniel palace grounds. But, as it stood, his love for the stars would always outweigh the love he had for the plants on the ground.

There was something so mysterious about the night sky that nothing else was able to compare to. It could have been from the fact that he had grown up with his mother loving the stars, showing him the wonders of the universe as if they were able to explore them themselves, or maybe it was simply because they were beautiful. Dominic didn't know, but his love for them was greater than life. A part of it was the connection he felt with his mother whenever he did study the wonderous beings. It was as if she were next to him once again, looking over his shoulder, guiding his hands on the telescope into position until he was pointed at the star he wanted or the galaxy. Phantom hands of the mother who had been the most amazing person in his life. Phantom memories that made him feel like a child again.

The prince could see himself coming out into the gardens at night if he couldn't sleep. Of course, there was the matter of the guards. Would they let him out at night? He didn't know. But he was determined to try. If he could sneak away or be allowed to come during the quietest hours of the day when he didn't have to deal with people or war, to be surrounded by one of his loves and gaze upon the other, it would be a slice of heaven. Chances were he would fall asleep on a bench if he went on his own, but in here it was unlikely that anyone would here him scream from a nightmare. Perhaps it was for the better to venture into the greenhouse at night, then. For everyone's sake.

Reluctantly, Dominic followed Ariella out of the gardens as they ventured to their next stop. He didn't want to leave but at least he would be able to come back without fear of being punished for doing so. Octavian had hated when his son spent his free time doing something he enjoyed rather than studying or training. Eventually after the first few punishments the prince had gotten the gist and stopped trying to have fun or visit the places he liked in the palace. That was until he grew older and found more confidence in himself. Sure, the punishments were worse if he was found out, but being older meant that he was able to handle it rather better. Well, 'better' wasn't the right word, but the aftermath wasn't as terrible in the end.

His horse was a stunning black stallion with a lightning bolt shape across its left eye. Dominic had been riding the same horse since he had been able, and his stallion, Tywyll and he had formed a strong bond over the years. Tywyll nickered when fed the carrot and soon Dominic was at his horse's side not a moment later, resting his forehead against his strong face and muttering something under his breath in Verillia's native tongue. He turned to the stable hand, Emroy it seemed was his name, and gave him a small nod. Anything soft that might have been present in his features from the gardens had faded away into his stern features once more, "Thank you for taking care of him." He said, but offered no other words to the man.

Dominic didn't want to leave Tywyll but at least he seemed to be in good hands. The prince felt more than a little bad for ridding his stallion to the brink of exhaustion but they had to get out of there. At least now they were both safe. He followed Ariella through the stables until they reached the stall, and Dominic leaned against the post with his arms crossed as he watched the dog and the princess, "She looks about ready to burst."

Emory watched Prince Dominic silently as he went to the stallion. He was a beautiful horse, carefully bred, and suitable for a prince. The pair of them suited one another. They complimented each other, just as Ariella and Buttercup complimented each other. Ariella was headstrong and didn't always think before charging in. While her mare, Buttercup, was mellow and had a calm temperament. They balanced each other out. The prince and his horse were perhaps a little more alike than the princess was with her mare. Both were tall and strong, but the stallion needed to be to be able to carry the weight of the prince. The prince was gentle in a way with his horse that he had never of. Of course, he had heard the rumors of Prince Dominic's cruelty, but he was gentle with the stallion. And there was a kindness in his eyes as he looked at Ariella. Albeit, some irritation there as well, but Ariella always seemed to get on everyone's nerves. It was a talent of hers. Perhaps the prince and princess would balance one another out as well.

The stable hand simply bowed his head in response. No words were needed to respond. The thanks were more than Emory had been expecting from he prince and it was nice to be appreciated for his work. He followed Ariella as she made her way to Lady's stall and opened the door for the princess to go inside. He had a small smile on his face as he watched her and Lady interact with one another. His smile brightened as Ariella looked up at him and flashed her pearly white teeth at him. She always did have a pretty smile.

Ariella turned her gaze to Dominic as he walked over to the stall. She ran her hand along Lady's belly, stroking it soothingly. "Any day now, hopefully. I'd love to be here for the birth. It's fascinating to watch. And I want to be the first one to see so I can name all the pups." She had been here years ago when Lady had been born. Only Lady's mother had been bred. Where Lady just decided to get knocked up. They would have to keep a closer eye on her after she gave birth to the pups to make sure she didn't get herself knocked up again. "We're not sure what the pups will look like. They might be a cross breed of one of the other hunting dogs. Or they might be half wolf. We'll find out in a few days I suppose."

She looked down at Lady and she nuzzled Ariella's hand. "Someone was naughty. Yes you were." She spoke in a voice that was only used for small children or in her case, a dog. Ariella and children did not get along very well so she never had the chance to use such a voice with them. So it was reserved for Lady, whom she babied more than she should have. She had been warned by multiple people to stop spoiling Lady but how could she not when Lady looked up at her with those eyes and she just wanted to give her love? At least Ariella didn't sneak Lady into her room anymore. Everand had told her off for that one.

She eventually managed to untangle herself from Lady, who looked absolutely devastated as Ariella made her way out of the stall. Emory was shaking his head next to her. "You spoil her too much. Soon enough she'll be useless hunting." The smirk on his lips said that he was anything but mad at her. He had always had a soft spot for Ariella and Lady. He had been the one to deliver Lady when she was born.

Ariella wasn't bothered by this. "Well, if she becomes useless, I suppose I'll just have to take her in and care for her myself. She can stay with me in the palace." They both knew it wouldn't happen. Not only would her mother throw a fit, but every maid who walked to and from her room would. The hair would shed and get all over the place, more so than Ariella's hair already did. Lady would certainly make a mess of her things and possibly even use the bathroom in her room. And not to mention the smell. There was no way Ariella could get away with it. Her maids loved her but they didn't love her that much.

Emory snorted. "Good luck with that. I think she's better suited here. And you know you can visit whenever you want to." Ariella knew that. A couple of years ago, she would have visited to see him. But those days were long over and they were nothing but friends now. And while she appreciated their friendship, she only ever visited to see the animals. His company was just an added bonus.

"I will see you when Lady gives birth." Ariella stepped over to Dominic, looking up at him as she took his arm. "Come, we still have the training yard to see. Which you are not allowed to use until those stitches come out."

Not many, barely even a handful, of people knew about the prince's true nature—the softness behind the cold exterior. The maids knew, only because they were the few that had seen Dominic at his weakest and most vulnerable, but the rest of the court had only ever seen the aggressive man. The man with a short temper who lashed out when things didn't go his way. His horse, even if it was a fucking horse, was one of the only other things in his life that had seen the gentleness that he was capable of.

There was something about Emroy that Dominic didn't like. He didn't know whether or not it was the smirk that he had on his face, the way he spoke about the princess and how he acted like they were close in a way that lovers might have been. Regardless, the prince wasn't a fan. He wasn't one to get jealous, especially when it came to those that he had just met, so what was it about Ariella that had his jaw tensing at the sight of the two of them? Pushing those thoughts away, he focused back on the dog. She was a fine specimen and whatever half-breed the pups were going to be would be strong hunting dogs regardless.

He had never really been a dog person. Saoirse had been a lover of dogs, but Octavian was not. In fact, the king wasn't a fan of many animals apart from horses, but even then, he only ever interacted with them when he needed to. Where Dominic liked to ride Tywyll, his father preferred to ride in his carriage. The bastard was far too pretentious to be seen riding a horse like a common soldier or his son, of all people. And the prince certainly preferred cats over dogs any day of the week. They were gentle creatures when treated right. Cuddly and darlings and they always seemed to cheer him up. Often he had taken in the strays off the street and hidden them away in the tower, feeding them and caring for them. If Dominic couldn't take care of himself then he was going to do his best and care for the cats in his life instead.

Luckily, though, Ariella was untangling herself from Lady and standing. Good, he was ready to leave. As much as he didn't want to leave Tywyll, his horse was in good hands, he could tell that much. He didn't speak, watching the two converse until Ariella was at his side and grabbing onto his arm. Usually, he would have protested, but at the same time, with having Emroy there, he made sure to keep the princess a tad closer than he had been before. Gods, even though he didn't know Ariella, didn't want to be with her, he didn't know why he was so jealous of the man. He was a stablehand. Even if there was anything between the two which- it seemed like there might have been in the past, potentially not anymore, he couldn't tell- it was impossible for them to be together due to the difference in status. It was stupid for him to be feeling this way, and it wasn't until they were attached by the arm again did those feelings dissipate.

Dominic huffed once more at how he wasn't allowed to use the training grounds, "You are unfair. I have trained with worse injuries than a stitched-up wound." Because at least the wound was stitched up rather than open to the elements. On the battlefield, there was no choice but to fight even if injured, unless there was the opportunity to get to an infirmary. And Dominic would often go without attending to the nurses in case there were more important injuries that were worse and needed to be seen to. He could survive, he was strong, there were some soldiers who were not.

Ariella tipped her head up at Dominic as she felt him pull her subtly closer. She said nothing, though the question was present in her eyes. She would have thought, that if he did anything, he would have pushed her away or held her as far from himself as he could manage. And yet he did the opposite. She couldn't discern why. Nothing had happened, there was no threat nearby that would make him want to protect her, though she doubted he would do even that. Pushing the thought away, she gave Emory one last smile as they passed by him out of the stables.

She looked up at him once more, eyebrow quirked and clearly amused. "I didn't know princes such as yourself whined as if they were a child," she said with a smirk. "And just because you have trained with worse injuries does not mean you should be doing that. You will let this arm heal. I don't want to see you back in the infirmary. And especially not because you reopened your wound, thus prolonging the healing and then you will be out even longer." She stopped and turned to him, eyes narrowing. "If you end up back in the infirmary because you've reopened your wound, I'll have you bared from the training grounds and any equipment until that wound heals." She couldn't actually do that and yet she did. And she was scary enough when she was mad that the guards would listen to her. And if they didn't she would convince her brother to back her up and then he would definitely be banned until further notice.

Ariella took her patients very seriously, even ones as impatient and infuriating as Dominic. Her patient's health mattered more than anything, even if he technically wasn't her patient. She would have stitched him up had her father not been on his way. They might not be able to keep her out of the infirmary but that didn't mean she was going to throw her passion in their faces, not when they so disapproved of it. She was only willing to test them so much.

As they rounded to the other side of the palace, the entirety of the courtyard on this side had been turned into a training ground. There was a building a little farther off, closer to the wall that encased the palace, that held the barracks. It was large enough to house all the soldiers that guarded the palace, given that they doubled in rooms. The training yard was emptier as it was further into the day. A few guards who were not on post were getting their workout in, a few jogging around the training yard and a few in a ring sparring. The best time to train with he other guards would be right before sunrise. Ariella had found that out a few years back. Every now and then she would watch from the windows in the palace above. She couldn't help it if dozens of attractive guards were working out without half their clothes. She might as well watch.

As they came to a stop, Ariella said, "Well, this concludes our tour. I'm sure my brother and father will want you back shortly." She made no move to let go of him just yet. She still stood there, peering up at him, and clutching on to his arm. "We shouldn't linger here. I don't want to tempt you to join them while you're incapacitated."

Five days was not entirely necessary. Four, perhaps even three days, and the stitches might have been able to come out and he could have resumed his usual activities. But not only did she want to see how he would react to this, which was amusing, but he had been through a lot these past few days. Just because his body was ready to step back into the ring did not mean his mind was. The extra day or so might be necessary just to let him rest. The physical body was not her only concern, it was his mind too. And after his nightmare last night, she wanted to give him more time before training his body. Perhaps the nightmares would go away and he would be able to sleep peacefully without exhausting his body or taking any other measures.

Even if Ariella had asked him why he pulled her closer, Dominic wouldn't have been able to give a straight answer since he didn't entirely know why he did it himself. Really, he shouldn't be jealous over a stable hand, of all people, because when it came down to it he would have easily been able to beat him off. He was bigger, stronger, a Gods damned prince. Not that any of that mattered, or that he was really concerned about it since he wasn't interested in the first place. But the way Emroy had looked at Ariella sent his blood boiling no matter how hard he tried to tell himself it was because of something else. It didn't matter if he could ignore the real reason that he was practically seething at the thought of his hands on her.

Strange when he had no claim over the princess and never would. He wasn't here to seduce the princess by his side, wasn't here to form a marriage. Chances were they would die by the end of the war– at least Dominic was certain he would die at the end of the fighting. Being on the front lines came with the risk of death and by now he was best friends with it. Death seemed to never leave him. From his family to friends, to even himself at times during his younger years when it had come close to claiming him due to no fault but his own. Death was an old friend, and he had no doubt that they would meet again soon enough. So why he was so pressed about the thought of Emroy touching her was beyond him.

It didn't do wonders for his mind, especially when his thoughts turned to memories of the night before when she had been in his bed wearing practically nothing and almost begging for his attention. The thought of taking Ariella in the stables crossed his thoughts, somewhere only mildly private, somewhere Emroy would certainly hear, perhaps not see. Although, the thought of the stablehand seeing her come undone due to his hands, his words, his touches was certainly a thought he enjoyed. Especially if Ariella was screaming for him over and over rather than the stablehand. Fuck. Dominic turned those thoughts away quickly, face still masked in cool calmness no matter if his mind was running a thousand miles. No. No attachments. No desires. No claim on the woman on his arm even if they seemed to fit together better than expected.

"I'm not whining," He replied as they entered the courtyard and he finally saw the training grounds. He certainly was, he was just denying it, "I'm simply stating it is unfair to keep me from training when I am perfectly capable of doing so. It's barely even a scratch," It was definitely more than a scratch, "You need not worry about me."

Considering his ongoing nightmares– which Dominic had a strong feeling Ariella would realise tonight– there was certainly reason to worry about the prince. Dominic hadn't been in a good space since the death of his family, and with the war, he doubted he would ever get back to where he used to be when he was a child. Whatever light may have been in his eyes had long since vanished. His mind, heart and soul had fractured far too many times for him to believe that the pieces would ever be put back together, "I believe lunch is in order before any more talk of war strategy." Even though he definitely didn't want to go back into that room so soon.

Ariella and Emory had a fling two summers back. Emory had been new to the palace and she was the only one who had really taken he time to get to know him. She had been drawn in by his knowledge of the outside world. Emory had been from one of the outer villages of their kingdom and Ariella knew nothing about life beyond the borders of the capital city. He would tell her stories as she would walk Lady or take a ride on Buttercup. Eventually, their friendship had evolved into something more. She was sneaking away from the palace to meet with him in the stables. They had spent more time than she would admit in an empty stall in a less than signifying position. Nothing that would ever "soil" herself, as her mother called it, but it would have certainly gotten Emory thrown in jail had they been caught. And they had been. Her brother Everand had caught them kissing in a stall with his hand up her skirt. And after a very lengthy lecture from her brother, she had decided it was best to end whatever she had with Emory. it could never go any further, why risk breaking each other's hearts?

After a time, they had slowly slipped back into their friendship with one another, and now two years later, their tryst was nothing more than a passing thought. Neither of them looked at each other like that anymore. Or at least, Ariella did not. She found a friend in him and nothing more. She saw him less and less as time went on, her mother taking up more of her day. It had been weeks since she had last been in the stables and even longer since she had taken her mare out for a ride. The last time she had stopped in was to check in with Lady. But after finding she wasn't quite ready to give birth to the pups, she had made her exit fairly quickly.

"You are whining." Ariella almost laughed. he was like a child who had his toy taken away and she was refusing to give it back to him. "That is much more than a scratch. A scratch wouldn't require stitches and yet here you are, your arm stitched up and wrapped in bandages. You had an infection starting when you came to us. We were able to treat it before it spread but had you been a day or two later, we might not have been able to save you. So you will rest and you will stop complaining about this or I will keep those stitches in you even longer, thus keeping you from the training yards."

She snorted, which was very unladylike from her. "I have a feeling I will do nothing but worry about you as you are my patient. For some odd reason, my gut tells me you are going to be in the infirmary more than you should be. Or I'm going to have to drag your ass to the infirmary because you'll be too stubborn to go there yourself."

It wasn't that she worried he would lose his fights. It was the opposite of that. She worried he wouldn't know when to stop. When enough was enough. If she hadn't threatened him, he would have jumped in the ring by now and only hurt his arm more in the process. "I'd like to not see you in the infirmary, or have to drag you there, so heal and try not to get injured more than you already have been." Ariella knew it would be impossible once the war did start. Dominic seemed like the sort of man who would go to the front to fight. When he did, it would be out of her hands. There was no way her father would let her travel to the front as a medic. She would be stuck behind these walls, her talents wasted while their soldiers were dying when she possibly could've helped save them.

Her stomach growled at the thought food and shuffled so he wouldn't be able to see her blushing face. She hadn't realized how much walking they had done, or how much of an appetite she had built up. "Lunch sounds wonderful. Shall we?"

It was hard not to whine when Dominic's whole life had revolved around training and fighting for the vast majority of his life. If he wasn't dealing with his father or political issues that he was needed for then he was in the sparring ring, taking out his anger on the soldiers around him. They had all come to know that he was the most aggressive man that they had ever had to fight. Worse than the captain, definitely worse than his father when it came to battle.

But then again, Octavian didn't like getting his hands dirty unless he was punishing Dominic himself. Half the time he didn't even do so, simply watching as the court members had their way with his son and making sure that the punishment was deserving of whatever the fuck he had done to earn it. It had gotten to the point where the prince practically had his own cell in the dungeons below the palace. Every time he was taken to the block furthest away from the other prisoners that may have been kept under the grounds, taken in through the back entrance so they wouldn't see that their beloved prince was being tortured just as they were. And every time the cell was left bloodied and he was left a little more broken than he was when he entered.

By now Dominic felt as if he were a vase that had been smashed to pieces over and over again, to be reassembled and put back together as best as he was able only to be broken once again not long after. Each time he came out with more cracks in the foundation, his soul and his heart had been shattered a thousand times over Dominic didn't know if he could handle any more. But he was forced to take it. Forced to take the punishment, the abuse, and had no choice but to reassemble the pieces. There were far too many missing that he doubted he would ever be whole again.

And training was the only thing that had kept him somewhat sane over the years. It was an outlet. A way for him to disperse his anger in a manner that wouldn't hurt anyone unnecessarily. Of course, there would always be injuries to whoever went up against Dominic in the ring, but there was a respect between him and the soldiers. Everyone knew what they were getting into when it came to fighting in the ring, especially up against Dominic that even if either one got hurt, they understood it was a part of the deal. Now he wasn't allowed to do so and so yes, he was going to whine about it.

Dominic grumbled in his native tongue, only adding to the fact that he was clearly whining and upset but he wasn't going to fight Ariella about it. An argument with her was not something that was on his agenda. He guessed he would have to play by her rules while he was in her company. Unless she really did something to piss him off, or annoy him, which was starting to seem very easy to see. Regardless, he forfeited. He would be at the front of the fight in the end.

"Fine," He huffed, "No training till the stitches come out. But they're coming out as soon as they are able. I need to get back to training." His thoughts were turned away by the rumbling of Ariella's stomach and he almost chuckled at that, "We shall." Her family was probably waiting for them in the dining hall, too. It was certainly time to eat, and he was sure that the queen would be wanting to get Everand and Galen out of the study.

Ariella decided to keep to herself that she was fluent in his native language. Or as fluent as she could get without being a native. She was actually fluent in five other languages besides common. She had started the process of teaching herself a sixth a few months ago, but she had been neglecting her teachings for a few weeks now. It wasn't that she didn't want to learn it, it was just that there were other things taking precedence at the time being. She mashed her lips together, hiding her smile as he confirmed that he was indeed whining. She supposed she could take the soldier out of training, but she couldn't take the training out of the soldier. She would bet on her favorite tiara that any dedicated soldier would respond similarly to him. Perhaps they wouldn't whine as much as he was, but they would be just as put off by being banned from training for a few days.

She walked them through the front courtyard, smiling at the workers they passed but said nothing to them. Had the prince not been with her, she likely would have stopped and spoken with them for a few minutes before going inside. But he was here and it was uncommon for anyone of her status to befriend the help. She didn't need to give the prince any reason not to help them further. It would be petty to abandon them simply because Ariella had a few unlikely friends but she wouldn't put it above some royals. Some of them believed they were better than everyone else when the reality of it was that they weren't even good enough to lick the dirt off their people's boots.

She was silent as they walked through the halls. If she wanted to, she could have rambled on about the architecture that had gone into building the palace or gone into detail about the lives of the artists of the paintings and sculptures. But she did none of that. She had done her duty, she had given the prince a tour of the palace and had been close enough that her mother would be satisfied. Over the next week or so, Ariella would spend time with Dominic as her mother forced her to, and then come up with some excuse as to why she didn't like him and wouldn't marry him like Eveline so obviously wanted her to. this was what she did every time her mother brought someone home for her. She kept as much distance as she could allow without her mother getting onto her about it. Then after an allotted time, she would complain to her mother about something she didn't like about him and overexaggerate about how she could never marry a man like that. Then she would try to convince her mother that she was better off single and that would start a whole new argument. It was a never-ending cycle. Dominic would be no different.

As they entered the dining room, Ariella noticed that everyone was seated at the table but the two of them. She had long left go of his arm before reaching the dining room. Her mother's little spies would have already reported back to her that Dominic had escorted her around like a gentleman. There was a fifty-fifty chance that her mother would ask her why he wasn't escorting her into the dining room but she would just make some lie and all would be well. Speak of the devil, "There you are. I was just about to send a maid for you. You two took an awful while."

Of course, her mother would comment on how long they had been with each other. "Apologies, Mother, we stopped at the stables to check on his horse and see Lady. I got a little distracted." It wasn't as if this was a ginormous palace and there were thousands of square footage to cover or anything like that. And they hadn't even gone into every room. They had skipped out on quite a few, as they would just become repetitive.

Her mother tsked. "You should stay out of those stables, darling. I mean look at your gown." Ariella looked down at it. Sure it was stained but they would most likely come out. It was a shame, though, this was her favorite color. She would hate to ruin the gown. But there would be other uses for it if it was completely ruined. "I'm sure they will come right out, Mother." She sat down in her seat that was conveniently right next to Dominic's once more. She looked across the table at Everand who's jaw was clenched. He looked angry, though he hid it well. Ariella knew his tells. He couldn't hide that from her. She gave him a questioning look.

Later, he seemed to say. Later indeed. if he didn't come find her, she would find him. Preferably before Dominic went to bed. She didn't want Everand around just in case his nightmares came back. It was bad enough that Ariella knew, no one else needed to.

Even if Ariella had stopped to speak to the workers of the palace, Dominic wouldn't have minded in the slightest. Sure, it would delay their lunch, which was only mildly infuriating when he was hungry and wanted something to eat, but he understood what it was like to be friends with those that, as a royal, their parents deemed it inappropriate to speak to.

The maids who tended to him were the few in his life who understood what it was that Dominic had been put through by his father. It had been entirely by coincidence the first time around when the head maid, Fiona, had found him as a child, curled up in his bed and bleeding from the injuries to his back. Usually, she didn't tend to his chambers during the late hours of the evening but his room had been forgotten about in favour of cleaning to prepare for a ball. So when she had found the young prince sobbing into his pillow, the soft dragon plushie clutched to his chest and blood pooling onto the white sheets, she had stopped her duties immediately. Luckily, Octavian had gone to sleep by that point and so no one had known she was there. A good thing, too, for when the young prince had explained what happened, Fiona had been worried that she would be cast out if he knew Dominic had spoken a word to her.

That night she had stayed with Dominic. She cleaned up his wounds as gently and carefully as she was able until there was no more blood on his body. The prince could still point out which scars on his back was from the very first night she had tended to him. Fiona had read him a story and stayed all evening with the young prince curled up to her side. She had no children of her own and cared for him as if he were her own son, and Dominic saw her as a mother figure throughout his whole life.

There had been other maids who helped over the years. A small handful that he trusted not to tell a soul about the abuse. It broke them all to see their prince hurt in such a way, to change in such a way due to the pain. They all wanted nothing more than to rip the king a new one, but for the sake of staying by Dominic's side, they had refrained. When Octavian found out years later that the women had been tending to his son, he had killed them all. Dominic had had to spend the night in the infirmary due to the injuries had had received. That night, they hadn't been from his father.

When they made it to the dining hall Dominic straightened his shoulders a tad more in the presence of the king and queen, offering them a bow of his head in acknowledgement as he took a seat beside Ariella. Would every meal be like this? He figured it would be. Somehow he doubted that Eveline would let them be separated, "Apologies, Your Majesties," He said not a moment later, "It was my idea to go to the stables. My horse is very dear to me, I wanted to be sure he was doing alright." Because there was something in the way the queen spoke to her daughter that made it clear Ariella would be in trouble for her dress. He would take the blame for it, just this once, "The food smells wonderful."

It took every ounce of her self-control for Ariella not to snap her head in his direction. She didn't understand why he was covering for her. She hadn't done anything that had warranted him to cover for her. She knew how to handle her mother. The dress would have been an incident soon forgotten. Even if Eveline remembered to chastise her later, she would have forgotten about it a day or so later. As soon as the gown was out of sight, it would be out of her mind.

Ariella truly did hope the dress was salvageable. Pink was her favorite color. It complimented her well and didn't wash her out, depending on the shade. And the gown itself was beautiful. Her seamstress had spent many hours designing and piecing it together. She would hate for all that work to go to waste. If the dress was truly too stained to be saved, she would always commission another gown. It would vary slightly, as the seamstress never made the same dress twice, but Ariella would still pick the same color if it was available and help choose the fabric of it. The seamstress would ask her a couple of questions and then a few days later, a new gown would appear in her closet.

Eveline smiled at Dominic. "I'm glad to hear that your horse is doing alright. He's a brave little thing, taking you all the way here." Galen took a big gulp of his wine to refrain from saying anything. It was a miracle in itself that he didn't roll his eyes. His nerves were already set from watching his daughter stride into the room with the prince. She was his last girl. She didn't know the ways of the world, not beyond what her books would tell her. And her books were hardly accurate about how society functioned. Her visits to the city were hardly enough to give her insight either. He worried about her. He worried Dominic would ruin her. He was nothing like the men she had fancied, because yes, he knew about most of them. Dominic came with more baggage than he believed her able to handle. His world was pain and misery and death. And he wanted to keep her as far away from that as possible. Unfortunately, war called for desperate times.

"Please, eat," Evelin encouraged, unaware or purposeful ignorance of her husband's turmoil. "You must be starving. Touring the palace certainly works up an appetite. I'm famished just thinking about it." She wasn't of course. She took a laxative tea to help her keep skinny but that wasn't something discussed beyond hushed whispers among staff and court.

Ariella took a long drink of her wine, inwardly cringing at her mother. Sometimes she wondered how she wasn't a drunkard having to deal with her mother. Then again, she wasn't around Eveline this much. She was often able to get away with not eating lunch with her and sometimes even breakfast if she played her cards right. But her mother was likely forcing them all to eat together so she could continue to put Ariella and Dominic in close vicinity. If it didn't mean she would have to listen to her mother complain about her drinking habits, she would have asked the maid to leave the bottle on the table for her.

Dominic didn't really know why, exactly, he covered for Ariella. He had no reason to do so, it didn't matter to him whether or not she was chastised for her dress by her mother. She had every right to do so, since well, that was her child, but instead he had taken the blame. Said it was his idea to go to the stables when she had led him there. Something in his gut told him it was the right thing to do, even if being in the queen's bad books for a little while. Really he could make it up to her by taking Ariella out for lunch or a picnic, pretending to court her like Eveline so clearly wanted her to do. It would make her forget the whole matter within seconds by just suggesting it.

Although, by the look on Galen's face, that might be a horrible idea.

He was well aware that he came with baggage. That he wasn't a good person. Dominic was a man who had killed and would kill again without care in the world. To him, it didn't matter. He would gladly enter the dungeons and the torture chambers with a knife in hand and wouldn't come out until the other person was screaming. It was what he was good at. It was what he enjoyed. He liked, no loved the feel of metal swiping through skin, the feel of blood dripping down his hand as the other person begged for his life. Dominic had been killing since he was a teenager, thanks to his father, and after months of rejecting the idea that he hated what he did, he had learned he loved it. Craved it in ways he didn't know was possible. Galen had every right to be worried about his daughter being around him. And in all honestly, Dominic didn't know if he particularly wanted her around, either. She had seen him after a nightmare, his most vulnerable, when they didn't know each other. Where the fuck did he go from there?

Dominic wasn't going to deny himself the food any more when he was hungry and dug in to the delicious beef and vegetables in front of him. It was delicious, as always, and so as the family chatted around him– well, mainly Eveline chatted to them all and her husband responded here and there, along with Everand when he seemed to get himself together, he might have even called it pleasant.

He had always eaten by himself back home. Octavian dined on his own or with his court members and never with his son. Dominic wasn't allowed near the great dining hall when he was there. He had always been claimed to be a 'nuisance' or a 'disturbance.' Even as he grew older and didn't speak out of line as much as he did as a child he dined by himself. If he wasn't eating in his chambers he was dining in the astronomy tower. The prince would push as much food onto his plate as possible and head to the tower as quickly as he could. Then, on the little balcony on the top, he ate and watched the sun set and the stars rise above.

The prince wondered if, in another life, they would have dined as a family. All together around a table, chatting and laughing. Would they have had big dinners like the one he was seated at with the Araniel family? Or small dinners, perhaps, where Saorise snuck her way into the kitchens and cooked for them all instead, small and quiet and intimate. He would never know. It was simply a daydream, a life he would never receive.

Everand's words were still echoing in her head as she got ready for bed. He had left her room only a short while ago. After lunch, her father had whisked away Dominic and her brother back into his study. She hadn't seen any of them again until dinner. Her father would have taken them all back into the study again had her mother not gotten on to him about hoarding Everand's and Dominic's time. Ariella had managed to slip away after dinner before her mother could manipulate her into spending more time with Dominic. the tour had been enough and there were things that she wanted to do. Things she couldn't do with a prince glued to her side.

She had just finished smoothing down her skirts when Everand found her. She was lucky that the scribe she had just been had already managed to disappear back into the library. Running a hand through her hair, it was as if she had never been in the supply closet wrapped around a scribe. She had needed an outlet to let out her stress and he had been more than willing. And she also needed a reminder to herself that her mother didn't control her life. That she had a say in who she was with and wasn't with. It was an illusion, of course, that Ariella was in control. This was her losing control, even if she didn't recognize it. Everand would have, and he would have given her that disappointed look. He had stopped lecturing her a long time ago about her lovers. As long as she was safe and she didn't get caught, there was nothing he could do. Telling her to stop would only cause her to seek them out more.

He had been in her room for a couple of hours, catching her up on the content of his meeting with Dominic. With every word spoken, dread grew in her stomach. If they didn't call their allies, they would never win this war. She needed to write to her sisters. Her three eldest sisters were married into monarchs in other kingdoms. Her oldest sister was a queen now, and the other two were married to second and third sons. They were family. And if they called on them for aid, they had to come, surely. They were family after all. And family always came when there was trouble. Hopefully.

Ariella did not like to talk about her relationship with other sisters. She was only on good standing with two of them, and even then, only one of her sisters was in frequent contact with her. While her sisters had better relationships with their parents than she did, there was still a level of resentment there. They had all been abandoned by their parents until they had come of age to be useful to them through marriage. the only difference was where they had accepted their role, Ariella had fought it. She had never been the typical, proper princess and they resented her for it. They were angry at her for acting out, for not falling in line as they had.

"You need to be careful, Ari," Everand said, "Father is beginning to get desperate. They have been lenient with you in terms of your marriage, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He is not above marrying you off to secure an alliance."

The only question was, which alliance was worth severing any last affection Ariella had for her family?

Drained wasn't a strong enough word to describe how the prince was feeling that evening.

Even though Dominic had been trained for the role that he played in the grand scheme of things, it still wasn't enough to ever prepare him for how tired he was. Or maybe that was simply because he was always tired, it was only made worse by the war preparations. The maids had called him depressed. Fiona certainly had. It was her favourite word to describe the prince of Verillia.

"You're depressed, my dear. You need some healing teas, or sunlight, or a break from your father." She had said nearly every night after comforting the young prince from his nightmares. Every time he dismissed them, and every time she sighed, shook her head, and didn't press him further. It only made it worse, she had realised after a night of bandaging up wounds that had been inflicted on the young man by himself rather than his father when he was reminded of the situation. No, she was there for comfort, and if he wanted advice, he would ask for it. He rarely ever did, but it was there if he needed it.

So when he had climbed into bed not long after dinner, had shut the curtains and surrounded himself in a huddle of blankets, Dominic's mind was on the woman that had become his second mother. Especially when Fiona's words were echoing in his brain, and he knew she had been right. He was depressed. The situation at hand was making things all the worse. His mind had been on her when he fell asleep, too tired to stay awake for longer then necessary.

There were screams from down the hallway, and Dominic knew it was Fiona and a couple of maids who had been found to be helping him in the evenings after his beatings. He had known it was a bad idea to keep letting them continue caring for him. He had known they would be found out eventually and yet he still hadn't stopped them from coming. He should have been firmer. Harsher. Told them to fuck off like his father told his maids so he was left alone. He should be caring for himself. He should be able to be alone. 'Pathetic. Stupid.' His father was right

A knife dragged down Dominic's back and he screamed himself, blood dripping down onto the cobbled floor that was a mess of dried crimson. It hadn't been cleaned over the years, accumulating over and over as a testament to how many times he had been there, in the same situation because of his own actions. It was Octavian who was carving the words he spoke into his back, repeating them as he wrote them, "You're weak. You couldn't even handle yourself you had to get other people to clean you up. What kind of a man are you, hm? Certainly not one that could rule. It's pitiful, Dominic. Your mother would be so disappointed. As am I."

There were more loud screams between Dominic and the only people who seemed to care about him these days, tears dripping down onto the floor, flooding the ground and mixing with blood. Soon, he heard no longer the screams of Fiona and the other women he had cared for, and the young prince had only screamed louder until he had no voice.

It was one of those screams that pulled him from the nightmare once more. Dominic was wrapped in the blankets, sweating and breathing heavily, tangled in the shirt he was wearing that was now hanging loosely off his shoulder. He couldn't breathe. Air didn't- couldn't get into his lungs quick enough, tears threatened to spill and his heart was racing too fast for it to be safe. Gods, he felt like he was going to throw up, or scream again.

Ariella had finished braiding her down her back, learning her mistake from the night before. It had taken her almost an hour to demat her hair. She could only imagine what state Dominic had found her in when he had woken up. Her hair a mess and tangled, her body tangled in the sheets and spread out over the bed as if she owned it. And there may have been a wet spot on the pillow where she had drooled slightly. It must have been a horrific sight. There was a reason her hair was braided nightly. By the time she would have tried to go to bed last night, his screams had torn her from her bed. There hadn't been time to braid it. And he certainly wouldn't have let her back in if she had gone to her room to braid her hair.

She had made the smart decision and put on a pair of underwear for bed. While it wasn't her preference and she truly hoped she wasn't awoken because of his nightmares, it was better to be safe than sorry. The last thing she needed was to expose herself to this stranger completely. He seemed to have slept better when she had come to his room. He hadn't had a nightmare, or at least not one that had awoken the entire floor and alerted the guards. Perhaps they would all get lucky and it was a one time occurrence, but Ariella had never been very lucky.

She slipped into bed, feeling the silk sheets cover her body. She laid her head down on her pillows and closed her eyes, and waited. She waited and waited but sleep did not come to her. Not with her brother's voice in her head. Her time was coming to an end, it seemed. She had fought off her parents as much as she could, fought off any suitor they sent to her. And she had done a damn good job of it. But war called for desperate measures, and as their last unmarried daughter, she would make a wonderful bargaining chip. Her brother would be as well as he was the future king of Araniel. Marriage alliances were one of the easiest to make if you had the children for it. And Galena and Eveline had seven children.

If her father and Everand hadn't written it up already, missives would be sent to her three sisters soon enough. They were married to princes and kings of other nations. Their marriage had been for alliances and trade and they would come when Araniel called, or at least she hoped they did. If Verillia attacked Araniel, who was to say they wouldn't attack other nations? And if Ariella married, that would be a fourth kingdom added to the mix. Five kingdoms, five armies against Verillia. They couldn't lose. But that was the best-case scenario if Ariella was married off and her sisters' husbands came with an army to support Araniel. If they didn't, she wasn't sure what would become of her home. She didn't know what would become of her own home if she didn't marry. She was caught between duty and freedom, the love she held for her kingdom and the longing to be free of responsibility.

Exhaustion eventually won. She had slept little this past week. What with fights with her mother keeping her up and anger, and thoughts of war and Dominic's nightmares had kept her up last night. Her mind and body had finally given out on her and she slipped into a restless sleep. But it didn't last long. It had been perhaps only an hour or so since she had fallen asleep before screams jolted her awake. Like the previous night, she had thought it was an attack on the palace before she got her bearings and remembered the prince's nightmares. She sprung out of bed and ripped the door open, waving off the guards as they rushed towards the door. She had this covered. She reminded them the importance of keeping this to themselves. Her father had enough stress on his hands and thinking the prince was incapacitated because of his nightmares would only add on to his plate.

Ariella raised her hand and pounded on the door. "Dominic!" She yelled through the door. "Let me in!" She needed to get her hands on a master key so she could get into his room. She knew at least one of the guards had one of them. If he didn't open this door in the next five minutes, she would demand one of the guards open it for her.

The banging on the door was only distant in his mind. Dominic knew it was Ariella and he thanked himself for putting the shirt on before bed. Despite not liking having to wear it, he had known this would come again. The nightmares never ended. No matter how hard he tried to forget– whatever drug he took or drowned himself in alcohol – they were ever present, relentless. They never went away and he doubted they ever would. Nothing would save him from the torment that his mind cast upon him in all hours of the day. Nothing and no one.

He didn't care for the princess seeing the scar on his chest that peaked over the hem of the fabric, the one he had received the day his life turned into a living hell. It wasn't the most pleasant reminder to hold if she was to ever ask about it, but that situation was easier to explain than the rest. The ones caused by his father. By himself. Those were scars he wished for no one to see. Gods, he hated even looking at them himself and actively avoiding looking into mirrors to see them. If he didn't have to look then maybe he could forget. Maybe he could try and disregard everything that happened. Maybe he could attempt to move on.

But there would be no moving on when his father was planning a war against an innocent kingdom. No moving on when every moment he was reminded of where he came from, his kingdom, and who resided there. He was the Crown Prince of Verillia. Dominic could not simply disregard that title and the result was the dreadful reminders of what he had left behind. Who he had left behind.

Dominic didn't answer Ariella. He couldn't breathe let alone talk to her and tell her to fuck off. The prince pulled at his hair, tugging the strands as if the pain would take away from the horribleness going on inside his mind. It didn't. If anything it made it worse. His father's words rang through his mind and all he could think about was how he brought death to everyone he had ever cared about. His mother. His brothers. Fiona and the maids who had treated him with kindness despite the fact he had been harsh with them at times, the women who had stayed with him through the long nights of torment, patched him up after torture and in the end for what? Nothing. They had died because of him. His family had died because of him.

The prince rocked gently where he sat in the bed, eyes crunching shut and shaking his head as if he could physically get rid of the thoughts in his mind. Nothing worked. Tidal waves of guilt rushed over and through him, eroding at the damn that kept his sanity in place before he had a proper melt down and started crying. He didn't need Ariella to see that. He didn't need anyone to see that. Not again. Because the minute that they did and he saw the pity on their faces, or the second they started trying to care for him they would end up dead, too.

Ariella pounded her fist on the door two more times before stilling. She flattened her hand against the door and leaned her ear against the wood, trying to listen for any movement inside the room. She was trying to listen to see if she could hear Dominic shuffling around the room, either towards the door or away. She was listening for any signs he was crying or anything else of the sort. But she heard nothing, nothing.

Panic seized her. What if something had happened? What if he was hurt? She wasn't walking away. Not until she had seen with her own two eyes that he was alright, alive and whole. "Dominic, please," she pleaded through the door, "Please, let me in." Now Ariella wasn't one to beg but she was now. She had barely met the man but she couldn't deny the terror that was seizing her. What had caused these nightmares for him and what was her kingdom in for? Dominic was a fierce soldier and a powerful man. Whatever it was that had caused this, her people were in greater danger than they realized.

There was no answer. There was nothing. It was almost like he didn't hear her or he was choosing to ignore her. But either way, she wasn't waiting around to see what happened. If he snapped out of it and eventually came to the door, or yelled through it and told her to fuck off. That could take all night, it could never happen, and she wasn't going to wait. She was going to act, and she was getting in that room. She turned back to the guards who were all hovering nearby. "Which one of you has the master key?" They looked between them. Ariella narrowed her eyes. "Give me the key or I will try to kick down the door. And when I inevitably get hurt, I will make sure my father knows that it's your fault for allowing this to happen."

Mentioning her father usually worked unless they knew how little he seemed to care about his daughter. And thankfully, most of the staff and guard truly had no idea. So threatening to tell her father had one of the guards pulling out the key and handing it over to her. She took it from him and turned back to the door without a second look. She slid the key into the lock and turned it, listening to the soft click as it unlocked. Keeping the key in the door, she pushed open the door and slipped inside.

She had only opened the door enough for her to be able to get inside. Whatever was happening with Dominic, he didn't need the guards catching a glimpse of him. She clicked the door shut behind her, her eyes squinting in the darkness as her eyes adjusted to it once more. She found Dominic sitting on the bed. She could make out his form in the dark, rocking back and forth. She walked across the room over to the bed, not so quiet that she would sneak up on him and provoke him to attack like a wounded animal, but not so loud that she was clomping across the floor. Her presence was known and she only prayed that he would recognize her. She wasn't sure what condition his nightmare had left him in.

Ariella sat on the bed and moved so that she was kneeling in front of Dominic. She didn't reach out to him, no matter how much her fingers were itching to pull him into a hug. She didn't know if he wanted to be touched. When Ariella was in a state of hyperventilation, touch only made everything worse. She wouldn't be the reason he spiraled further than he was now. Instead, she just held out her hand towards him and said, "Dominic, may I touch you?"

Your fault.

It’s your fault.

It’s all. your. fault.

How could it not be his fault? If he hadn’t been born like his father had wanted in the end, he wouldn’t have caused the death of innocent women. If he hadn’t been such an idiot, if he didn’t fuck up so much like his father said, he wouldn’t be punished. The death of his family… his mother, his brothers… did they think the same, too? In death were they watching at how pathetic he had come? Did they think he deserved this just like his father believed? Like he believed? They probably did. It wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest if they enjoyed watching the pain. He was the reason they were dead, after all. The assassin’s had come for him to begin with. If he had been alone they would still be alive, happy.

Another wave of guilt rushed through his blood and he couldn’t help but shake where he sat. Dominic wanted out of his body. Out of the world. He would forever be a broken man. Behind the cold wall of stone was still a child who had never healed from his past and had never been given the chance. With the war he never would be given the chance to heal. If they won he would be king and thrust into the world of royal duties that he had been trained for and there would be no time to heal.

The door clicked open and he registered it faintly. Ariella had stopped screaming his name and demanding to be let in, and he glanced over towards the door creaking open and saw the small figure creeping in. That was her. How had she got in?

It didn’t matter. The nightmare yesterday had been horrible but at least it had only been about him. The nightmares about others always were worse. That was evident by how he was shaking.

A grown man. A strong man. Reduced to nearly tears over his memories. Dominic brought a hand down over his mouth in an attempt to hide his shuddering breathing but it didn’t go very well. Ariella moved towards him and crawled onto the bed before she was in front of him. He brought his gaze up from where he was staring at the ground until he looked to her. Even in the dim light the fear was clear in his eyes. A glossy brown from the tears threatening to spill that he somehow managed to hold back. He didn’t need her to see him crying. This was embarrassing enough. Crying would only add to it. He couldn’t shake those ingrained thoughts his father had drilled into him.

Slowly, Dominic placed his free hand in her outstretched one. He was still shaking. Still couldn’t breathe but he removed the other hand from his mouth and spoke barely above a whisper, “It’s- it’s all my fault-“

There were tears in his eyes. That was the first Ariella noticed as she neared him on the bed. His body was shuddering and he was holding his mouth as if he was trying to contain a sob. She didn't know what could have possibly reduced a man to this. The very man she had heard stories about, his ferocity and mercilessness. And yet he was here, shaking and rocking and on the verge of tears. She saw nothing of the man she had heard about. Something else was in his stead. It broke her heart to see.

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding as his hand slipped into hers. She gripped it tight, placing her other hand on top of his and holding it to her heart. She placed his hand on her beating heart, hoping to let it ground him. She was real. She was real and she was here. She wanted him to focus on her and not whatever memories were plaguing his nights. For it could only be memories that could be so vivid to reduce a person to this. Slowly, she reached a hand down his arm, her fingers skimming over the skin. Her eyes followed the trail of her fingers, lifting as they reached his shoulder when her eyes locked on something. A scar. It was jagged and only the tip of it. She couldn't see the rest as it disappeared under his shirt. Questions and curiosities seized her mind but it was something to return to later.

Ariella cupped his cheek gently, her thumb stroking the skin. She leaned in closer but didn't increase their contact. She was inches away, much like the previous night, only the tension was utterly different. She shook her head. She didn't know what he was talking about. She didn't know what he believed was his fault. She didn't have a right to speak on this, not without the details, but she did so anyway. What mattered most was calming him down, not sticking to the facts.

She shook her head. "It's not," her voice was just above a whisper, calm and soothing. "It's not your fault. I see you, Dominic. You are kind and good and this is not your fault." But did she see him? They had only known each other for two days, how could she know who he truly was? Call it instinct, intuition, but the rumors she had heard did not seem so real not that she had met him. He had plenty of opportunities to hurt her. She might have even deserved it, barging in on him now twice in a row. He had put up with her. He had been kind to her mother. And he came here. He had come to Araniel to warn a kingdom he had no ties to, no obligations to, because it was the right thing to do.

"I see you, Dominic." Ariella tightened her grip on him ever so slightly. She still had one hand on top of his, gripping his wrist as she pressed it to her heart. Her hand on his cheek slipped down to touch the side of his neck, the tips of her fingers running through the hair on the nape of his neck. "I see you."

Dominic could hear his father's voice in his head as loud as the gulls on the coast of Verillia. The screaming. The voices of the man who had ruined his life before it could even begin. They morphed into the voices of Fiona. Even though she would never say such things that his father had, in fact only speaking the exact opposite, it was hard to distinguish when he was in the state that he was in.

Pointless. Waste of space, of life. Stupid. Idiotic. Pifitful. Pathetic. Insufferable. You weren't good enough. You will never be good enough. You will always be a letdown, a failure. Your fault. The deaths are on your hands. They will always be on your hands.

His ledger was nothing but red. Dominic had caused so much pain to so many innocent people. If he had just died like he was supposed to have done when he was a child then there wouldn't be so many people dead now because of him. If Fiona hadn't found him in those bathing chambers she would be alive. If he had turned away those maids who tended to him most nights they would still be alive. If he had simply subjected himself to the fate of the blade that had caused that jagged scar across his chest then his mother and brothers would be alive. Instead, he was forced to stay alive and suffer the consequences. It was all his fault. Ariella… she didn't know, there was no one left alive who knew what he had gone through and how it was his fault. It didn't matter how many times someone said otherwise, he knew. Or he believed what he had been told for years and years.

The prince closed his eyes and forced himself to focus on that heartbeat. She was there. She was real. Even if he didn't believe her words she was there and that was more than some people had been. Ariella was more grounding than he would ever tell her. The heartbeat brought his mind back little by little and his breathing slowly started to ease into the occasional shudders, and with his eyes closed he could keep his tears at bay. But his breath hitched when she touched that scar and for a moment he was worried she would touch more. She didn't, and it allowed him to calm down a little more. Dominic leaned into the touches. Her hands were so soft compared to his own calloused ones and hers were not stained in blood.

It almost felt wrong to be in the presence of the princess. Dominic was no prince. They were supposed to be good. Good, strong. Princes led people and brought them out of darkness with grins that lit up a room and held a presence that could only be described as angelic. He, on the other hand, was the opposite. He was a killer. A man who had tortured and killed both because he had to and because he liked it. He didn't deserve what Ariella was offering him, and he couldn't help the soft whimper that spilt from his lips at the thought, the reality that he believed, and in response to her words.

Slowly, as if afraid that she wasn't real or simply an illusion, Dominic pressed his forehead against Ariella's. The contact was grounding, as at least he knew that this was reality, "Will… Will you… stay?" He whispered, "P-Please?"

Minute by minute, Ariella saw as the haze in his eyes slowly started to fade away and show clarity. He was slowly coming back to her, back to reality. Whatever was in his head, whatever nightmare that seized control of his mind, was slowly being pushed away. She didn't let herself believe that it was because of her, that she had something to do with it. It was easier to pretend that he was just grounding himself and she was only assisting. She didn't dare think about if she was the cause of this. If she was directly responsible for pushing away his nightmares and bringing him back to reality. She couldn't let herself go there.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt the weight of his forehead against her own. She let out a soft sigh of relief, her breath fanning against his lips. She nodded her head once, "Yes," she breathed, "I'm not going anywhere." She told herself that it was because the fate of her kingdom rested in his hands. She told herself that it was for duty, honor, that she stayed. That it was the right thing to do. Not because she wanted to. Not because her heart tugged at her to near him. Not because of the butterflies in her stomach she had the night before.

Her fingers curled at the nape of his neck, gripping his hair before releasing it. She stretched her fingers through his hair, massaging the scalp softly. Slowly, she began to turn to them until her back was on the mattress and her head on his pillows. She guided him down to lay his head on her chest, not saying a word. She wrapped her arms around his head and shoulders, holding her close to him. She would hold him all night long if that was what he needed. She would hold him every night if that was what he needed. She had a feeling her nights spent in her room were coming to an end as long as he resided in the palace, and she wasn't mad about it. Moreso, she was mad that she wasn't mad about spending more time with him. In her mind, it meant her mother was winning and she'd be damned if she let her mother win.

Ariella didn't offer any more words of comfort. She didn't tell him it would be alright because she couldn't promise that. She didn't know what the future held in store for them. She wouldn't make a false promise, not to him. Not when he would be able to taste the lie in the air. All she could do was be here and hope that her presence was enough. Her knees drew up on either side of him, almost caging him in without trapping him there. If anyone walked in on them, she knew what assumptions they would draw. This looked like a lover's embrace when it was anything but.

She began to hum softly, a child's lullaby tune she couldn't remember the words to. While she had been told her voice was angelic, she didn't like to sing, especially not in front of others. It was something that was wholly hers, something she shared with no one else. Not like her piano, which her mother liked to flaunt anytime they had guests. Not like her time, which her mother regularly abused. Her voice was her own, precious and safe.

It took a lot for the prince to be able to accept help from others. Fiona had badgered him for weeks when he was younger, even more so when he was a teenager and not wanting to talk to anyone or anything. She had broken down his walls and Dominic had let her in, let others in. And they had all died.

Maybe it had been a mistake coming to Araniel. More so, a mistake to stay. But then again, what other choice was there? He knew that warning them was the only thing to do, was the right thing to do. They deserved the warning. Araniel was innocent. They had done nothing to Verillia. Now? Now they would be dancing with death for months. War was not something that was over in a day and forgotten about. The city would be painted with blood, covered in the stench of death that would creep into the cracks of the walls and take years to leave. There would be no recovering from the pain caused, at least not anytime soon.

Dominic let himself be moved into position by the princess and once his head was on her chest, he moved his arms until he was hugging her body. She was so small in comparison to him but in that moment he felt smaller than she would ever know. Like a child. But it didn't feel like the comforting hugs he received from Fiona or the other maids. This hug, this hold, was different. It was a hold given to a lover. One that he had never expected to ever see from anyone. Even though he had asked her to stay, Dominic hadn't thought Ariella would have positioned them like this. He would have been happy with just her presence in the room, enough so that he didn't feel so alone.

Instead, they were embracing one another like they were lovers. Like they had known each other for years, friends and something more. The prince cursed himself for quietly liking the thought. They didn't know each other, they didn't have any ties or obligations apart from the one that he held to her kingdom now in order to help them win this war, she didn't owe him this or need to do so. But she was. Out of kindness? No, it had to be pity, that was the only thing anyone would ever give him. Dominic couldn't bring himself to pull away, leaning into the touches like a cat as his eyes closed and he simply breathed in her scent.

Slowly, she was grounding him. It was Ariella that was keeping him away from the thoughts in his mind. Half of him was grateful, the other confused at how someone, practically a stranger, was able to ground him so easily. Something was drawing him to Ariella even if he didn't want it to be. Regardless, he closed his eyes and let into the touches, to the feel of her breathing– the soft rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, her touches, and the soft humming. Dominic could tell even from the soft humming she would have had a beautiful voice, but he was too tired, too drained, to ask about it. Soon, he was falling asleep in her arms.