Chapter 29

His laughter soon turned into gags. His hand flew to his throat as he began to cough and wheeze. It was like a hand was painfully squeezing his neck, cutting his flow of air. Soon enough, his face started to turn pink.

The King had already lost his father and brother. This man wanted to take his sister too? Well, nobody messes with his family or his people.

He didn't need to use his hands to perform magic. All he needed was his mind. In reality, the man wasn't being choked. Zedekiel was just manipulating his brain, making him think it was happening. But this wasn't enough. He wanted to see him bleed. He wanted to torture him in the worst way possible.

"Don't do anything rash!" his mother said to him telepathically. "Don't forget we have two humans in our midst. They'll wander how a man can just suffocate and die on his own. I don't want to answer any questions Zedekiel. Lock him up first. We'll deal with him later. And Ron is injured. We need to take care of him. He's losing a lot of blood"

"I don't care!"

"Zedekiel!" she scolded. "That could have been Mariel! He saved your sister's life!"

The King's concentration falted and the illusion on the culprit was broken. The crazy man, who was already red and sweating, started to cough violently as he tried to get in some air.

"Guards! Take him away. Lock him up in the dungeon"

The guards did as they were ordered.

"Ron!" Princess Mariel screamed, getting the whole hall's attention.

The delicate young prince who had never been through so much pain before, couldn't take it. At first he thought he could. Wasn't it just a flesh wound? A simple long profusely bleeding wound? (Which he couldn't even muster the courage to check). He really thought he could do it so he had gritted his teeth and forced himself to bear the pain. He didn't want to look weak in front of his beloved.

His arm felt like it was being burned by a hot metal object. It stung really bad. The pain made him as pale as a corpse. Alas, when he could not take it anymore, he gave up and collapsed on the floor.

That was when Princess Mariel screamed his name and everyone's heart chilled to see the cute prince passed out and bleeding.

********

It was midnight. The sky was devoid of stars and the thick clouds kept blocking the rays of the moon, putting Netheridge in momentary darkness.

After the feast, everyone went home. Some were fast asleep, some were talking about the talent show while some were worried for the injured Prince.

After he had passed out, he was carried back to the castle by his bodyguard, Leo. Then the royal physician was summoned to treat his wound. Princess Mariel felt it was all her fault and she cried herself to sleep in the Queen mother's chamber. She had heightened senses and fast reflexes but she let Ron get harmed. What if Ron decides to never like her? She didn't know what she would do.

Princess Rose stopped worrying after she heard it was a flesh wound, knowing that her brother would be alright. Ron was too pampered anyway. He needed experience.

Prince Ludiciel and the twins hung around the Prince's room for a while then retired when the physician was done, truly hoping the prince would be okay.

On this particular night, instead of resting, like a King should do after very long and tiresome activities , Zedekiel was tracking the scent of the masked dancer. He hid his presence and went back to the great hall to start his investigation.

The scents lingering in the hall were too much and he almost couldn't catch the one he wanted but he is the King after all. With utmost patience, he sifted the scents one by one and finally caught the one he wanted. Letting out a small smile, he started his search.

The King had tried to sleep. He really had but, he just couldn't get the dancer out of his mind. One might think Zedekiel was still angry about the fact that the human knew their ancient dance but that wasn't it. It was the feels...

He could feel the sincerity, the gentleness and tenderness oozing from the human. He could still feel the warmth of the body of the person in his arms. He could remember the feeling of that thin waist and tiny soft palms. And then those lips. Those small blood red lips over porcelain skin. So cute...

The cool air brushed Zedekiel's face, snapping him out of his thoughts. He shook his head, long silver locks bouncing in the process. No no no. He had to get his shit together. This is a sworn enemy. The species that deceived his people and killed his father and brother. He can never ever forgive them!

Not realising that he had been unconsciously walking while following the scent, he found himself back in the palace and specifically, standing before Prince Ron's bedroom. He realised that the scent there was strong but it led all the way down the hall.

After a glance at the closed door, he continued to walk and ended up where he began.

The hall.

Zedekiel began to think. So, the dancer had ran out the hall, went to the palace then made his way back to the hall again. But why?

He recalled that the dancer had taken off his clothes. Which means he changed into something else and went back to the hall before the feast was over. If the person got a change of clothes from the palace, does that mean the person lives in the palace?

Zedekiel retraced his steps back to the palace while noting every single place he passed. The scent was getting faint and harder to follow but he still went on. Soon enough, he found himself in front of Prince Ron's room once again.

He suddenly had a bad feeling. Could it be Prince Ron? He had disappeared right before the masked dancer's turn and appeared when he was done. Could it really be him?

He pictured the figure of the dancer and alongside, Prince Ron's then quickly shook his head. No way. That gentle human cannot be compared to the lazy, talkative, weird Prince of Ashenmore.

Still, Zedekiel wanted to be sure.