Aleksander stood stiffly. This was the very first time his father had called him his son since the day the king sent him away.
The prince watched as his father spread his arms open as if to welcome him warmly. He couldn’t begin to describe how revolted he was of the gesture.
’He is mocking me,’ Aleksander thought.
The ballroom seemingly turned bigger, the crowds vanishing as the bastard prince and his crazy father faced each other.
Aleksander imagined this moment for as long as he could remember. But now that he was back at the castle, the ill-tempered Prince Aleksander suddenly found himself turning back into a tiny boy who yearned for the love and attention of a father.
It was a strange feeling that seemed to have awakened like a hungry animal from years of hibernation. He hated his father so much for abandoning him on a whim, but to his surprise, a sliver of yearning was still alive in him.
The memory of a little boy who was the happiest when he was adored and taken care of.
But just as quickly as that feeling rose up in him, the current Aleksander squashed it like a pest in his face. The bitter reality of his life dawned on him – he wasn’t that same little boy anymore.
He wasn’t loved.
He was discarded like a toy when his crazy father decided he had enough of him. King Raxus Ardorlean didn’t deserve to be yearned for.
What he deserved was to be hated.
Prince Aleksander convinced himself that he needed no one. He was alright just by himself, and he will prove that to the king no matter what it took.
"Are you mad that I changed the party’s theme?" the king tilted his head to the side, then smiled evilly, "You need not to worry, the attention is all yours tonight! No matter if you’re dressed for the occasion or not, after my announcement, everyone will be talking about Prince Aleksander Ardorlean!" he howled in laughter.
The whole ballroom erupted with cajoles and jeers, all noble vampires joining in on the fun which their king enjoyed.
King Raxus raised his hand and the vampires instantaneously stopped. It was one of the advantages of being a king - whether or not he used his magic voice to command his subjects, the people of the West heeded everything he demanded.
"Son, come forward," his father’s voice echoed in the vastness of the ballroom.
The prince could feel the king’s magic immediately take effect on him. The prince’s brow furrowed. His father intensified his magic by repeating his previous command.
In a fraction of a second, his entire body was instantly compelled to go forward.
Aleksander did his best to resist his father’s magic. But by doing so, his knees trembled and his hands shook.
Suddenly, the prince felt his hand being squeezed, and turned to realize it had been the slave, his forced bride, who did so.
Aleksander had been too focused on his conflicting emotions that he actually forgot for a moment that he wasn’t alone.
Elys stood beside the prince and gave him her support. Even as the prince treated her badly, she made a deal with him that they would slap these nobles in the face if he attended the ball with her.
It would have been an easy win for both of them if things had gone as planned. It was too bad that in the end they were the ones being laughed at now.
"Come on," Elys tugged at Aleksander’s hand gently, "don’t let the trivial things bother you. Let’s show them what we came here for."
Somehow, his wife’s words calmed Aleksander down.
The prince nodded, took in a deep breath and started taking one step at a time towards the podium where his father stood in all his regality. He let his father’s magic work on him, until it came that they were right in front of the Western Kingdom’s reigning monarch.
"Greetings, your majesty," the princess curtsied.
"May your vigor be as strong as had been hundreds of years ago, and your reign supreme over all," Aleksander added, swallowing his pride for the moment.
The king grinned as he listened.
"Raise your heads," he commanded.
Elys and Aleksander lifted their heads without even thinking of it. The princess was partly amazed how strong the king’s magic was to influence their mind and body with only his words.
She will have to be wary not to earn this king’s ire – at least for the meantime.
"I had been neglectful as a king and father," King Raxus began, his face showing a bit of regret.
The prince was taken aback. He immediately assumed his father was about to apologize. But that was far from the reality as the king continued.
"Anyways, let us not waste much precious time on things that will never change," he laughed. "Now, I give you my blessing, Prince Aleksander Ardorlean and Princess..." the king trailed off, "what was your name again, child?" he asked Elys.
"Elysianne, your majesty," the princess replied.
"Ah, yes, Princess Elysianne, the feisty slave," the king continued, "It is amusing that you are now so prim and proper."
Elys hid her shaking fist in the volume of her skirt.
"Hear, hear, all of you gathered tonight," King Raxus amplified his voice so that even the people at the furthest side of the castle could hear him, "the bastard prince and his wife have been blessed in their marriage, and it has always been the tradition, an unspoken expectation, for any royalty to lay down their lives for the kingdom’s prosperity."
’What in the world is he trying to go to?’ Aleksander thought silently.
"The bastard prince had been away from his duties to the kingdom for too long," the king continued.
Aleksander scoffed. Only a moron wouldn’t see that – the king himself banished Aleksander from the castle life!
"But the time has come," the King Raxus said with finality, "As the king of the Western Kingdom, it is with great consideration..."
The king paused for a moment, letting the prince and his wife wait in anticipation. He flashed them a wicked smile, and Aleksander instantly knew his announcement was going to be something they wouldn’t like.
"I hereby appoint the royal couple as our new envoys to the East!"
Elys felt the prince’s grip on her hand tighten into an unbearably crushing force. She glanced at him from the side, and she saw his golden eyes.
Eyes burning full of fury.