I was bad at hand to hand combat. Agreed, I trained with Gerald. Agreed I knew some moves and maneuvers but I was still not a soldier on field hardened with brutal training, I still had the softness and delicateness that came with being a Princess.

So when I say my knuckles were bleeding, my forearm ached and I don't even know how many injuries my back had by the times I was thrown on the sand. And the worst part was I didn't even know why I was tolerating so much pain and training.

I was best at handling a sword among everything I was being taught at the moment.

But for some reason, the dark prince was being more dramatic than usual. He was colder than before and he didn't even bother looking at me. For crying out loud I saved his life but this is how he repays my kindness. I did save him to use him later but he didn't know that.

As I tried to actually land a punch or a kick on him he swiftly moved to oblige me with being visible during the whole training.

"Scared that I will hit your injuries Prince or your heart," I said just to provoke him and also to check how his injuries were.

But I guess my provocation worked quite well as he gripped my neck suddenly with his gloved hand, choking me mercilessly. My eyes widened as I gasped for air. His image blurred and now my father was standing in front of me.

For a moment I forgot that he was dead or that I was a prisoner. For the moment I just looked at him, the furrow between his brows, the little mole on the tip of his nose but I knew he was not my father but just an illusion because he was still choking me and it hurt more than I thought it would.

"Is this a game to you?" He bellowed in an angry voice, voice of my father but it was words of the dark prince.

"You think you can be a princess and threw tantrums. You will break before you can count till five, that's how harsh the world is." And with that he let me go.

I gasped for breath and fell down on my knees, the haunting image of my father etched in my mind now. Bretrarum was nothing but evil. He used people's weakness to get to them. And like a fool I sobbed hard right in front of him.

I should have killed him when I had a chance.

I didn't look up at him but I can hear his angry hit made by the sword on a wooden target as he repeatedly hit the target without using an ounce of his power. Some said he was the greatest mind manipulator but it didn't seem like it because I could always know that the image I was seeing was not real or maybe he was not using his full power on me, yet.

"Are you going to get up and fight back?" He said in a calm but dangerous tone.

Wiping my tears, I wanted to tell him to get lost or that I hated him but all those words were waste of breath on someone like him.

"Kill me," I said because it was already difficult to come to terms that my father was dead and I had no family.

A regular torturous reminder like this is not needed. It breaks me all over again.

"What?" He asked and surprise flickered in his eyes.

The only thing that was open about him was his eyes and they held all the mystery in the world and had some kind of alluring power. Had he not been evil, I would say he had beautiful eyes.

"Kill me, get over it. Just kill me as you did to all the other people in my kingdom or like how you left those poor girls at the brothel to die or like so many you have killed." I yelled.

And next thing I knew, he was holding a sharp dagger to my throat.

But surprisingly I didn't flinch and stared right back at him.

"One slit princess." He said like warning me before taking my life.

"Do it," I said hoping that he would.

But I felt both disappointed and relieved as he removed it.

"I will not kill you when I have a task for you. I am keeping you alive for a reason, I brought you here for a reason." He finally said something about that.

"I am not a fool. I know that much."

And waited for him to give me the reason he brought me here.

"don't make it hard on yourself." He said and sighed exasperatedly.

"You know I can kill myself," I asked having no such thought whatsoever.

I am not going to kill myself unless I take revenge for my father.

But my words surprised him a little or maybe he just thought that it will be the hindrance to the plan.

"You will do no such thing. The weapons around you are all crafted by me and contain my magic, they will only harm you if I command or else they are nothing by toys."

"I could have killed you when you dropped half dead in my room." I snapped at him as he closed all my options one by one.

"Why didn't you?" He asked and took a large step towards me and my heart stopped.

He was too close for my comfort as his eyes looked through my eyes and into my soul. But his gaze held a different emotion that for some reason made my ears warm and I knew they would be red now so I tried to subtly set my hair so that he can't see my ears.

"Tell me, Princess, why didn't you?" He asked once again.

And this time I was surprised to see that he almost looked sad at the fact that I didn't kill him. Who was he, really?

"Are you really Bretrarum, the dark brutal Prince everyone talks about who is nothing more than darkness to the eyes of the common," I asked to see how he would react to this.

"Why do you ask? Have you not seen me during training?" He asked.

Because you don't give off the vibes of darkness that you should, you are bad and yet maybe not the worst.

I think in my head but I don't say it.

And I feel guilty for thinking this way because he did destroy my life and killed the ones I loved.

"Ok, even if you are the darkness personified or not, either way, I hate you," I said it with it like I need to get this in my head rather than his.

Seconds passed and he just looked at me and then said," You should, you should hate me. And fear me. Just like everyone else."

And with that, he was gone.

I just stood there trying not to think I might have detected a sense of sadness in his tone.

---

My father stood in the large weaponry, his back facing me as I entered the hall my footsteps echoing through the hall. His usually upright posture seemed slumped and it meant that either he was tired or he was stressed about something.

"Father," I said.

And his face lighted up immediately.

"There has been another attack." He said and I tried not to feel the horror spread through me.

For the past three years, the attacks were more frequent, more brutal. And one by one the Kingdoms were wiped out like the plague of evil spread.

"Nevarlia," I stated the name of horror in one word.

And he nodded.

"How can I help?" I offer as usual but he never sends me into battle.

A part of me feels that it is because I am a princess and not a prince.

"I need you to help me with something else." He said and that made me hopeful.

"Anything." I offered.

And then he walked to the large wooden case that always just stood there with a huge iron lock over it. No matter how many times I tried whining about it, I never got to see what's inside.

But King surprised me as he opened the lock and inside there was a rusted bronze sword that was blunt and had a peculiar smell for a metallic sword, it smelled of lavender.

It was the sword of the myths and stories. The sword to banish evil they said in the simplified town stories, the bronze sword of Relicia. The myth said that it was sword crafted by angels themselves for the day with the darkness shall spread out of control from humans to defend themselves against the Dark Magic.

Some stories said that it is made by White Magic, that is when good magic existed and the power didn't consume people's mind but for me, this was less possible than the first myth. I have never seen good magic in my life.

"How do we have this?" I almost whispered the question for some reason.

"Because it was brought to me by someone the day you were born." He answered looking at me without any hint of amusement or joking.

That meant he was serious about.

"Go on try and pull it out of the case." He said and as much as I felt reluctant to touch something this powerful I step forward also curious.

With trepidation, I laid hands on the sword and I swear I could feel the howl of the wind. I tried pulling it out, the handle too cold for my fingers but it didn't move.

"Maybe it's not the time." My father said with slight disappointment in his tone that hurt me.

I promised to myself that I will be the one to use that sword if required. But next moment went I tried touching the sword again, some kind of force hit me in the gut and I fell down losing consciousness.

---

The dream was surreal, it was a memory I lived through almost three years back. Why was I dreaming about it? The sword was still there or maybe it was gone when the Kingdom was attacked but I doubted that. No one could ever touch it.

I woke up again with a tear-streaked face. I wanted to make him proud and now he was gone. I choked up with grief and leaned back on the wall behind me trying not crying yet again.

Was I actually meant to use the sword? Is that why I was trained from that young age and yet never sent to any battles, at least the one father knew about.

And I realized that it was so long ago that I forgot about it but this dream was like a signal for me to not lose hope. If the sword of Relicia was meant to be used, this was the time.

But there was nothing I could do, Bretrarum would be definitely nonchalant to the provocation technique and I didn't want to take that risk with someone as dark as him. Also, I can't escape; I can't pretend to be sick because he had magic and manipulation as his weapon.

My only option left and get to that sword was playing the seductive princess and I wish I was trained in that and that he didn't see through my act.

---------

I am as confused with my emotions as the characters of my book are right now!

Lmao, blame the PMS for my mood swings.

Are you excited for the next chapter? 

What do you think of the Dark Prince so far?

Let me know, I love hearing from you guys!

NEXT UPDATE: MONDAY