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Enchanting The Cruel Prince

A lowly slave finds herself at odds with the merciless crown prince, their fates dangerously entwined, and meant to separate only with her inevitable death by his hand. Sold to a brothel as a child, she wore the mask of insanity to escape the brutal clutches of life that awaited her, but it only brought her to another hell. She persisted, hoping to one day find her freedom and return to the ethereal valleys where she was born. All Alyssane desired was to find her home. One night of mystery and murder thrusts her into a dangerous game-shards of her memories are missing, she is accused of a fatal crime she could not escape, and her path entangles her with the cruel prince. She knows how things would end. But deceiving fates could be impossible when the man supposed to end her life is both her captive and her savior, when he is cold and menacing yet so easily mesmerizes her with his sweet nothings. His sins are known far wide and are darker than any nightmares plaguing her mind. She knows their fates together would entangle in a brutal mess, though it doesn’t stop her heart from fluttering like a caged bird whenever he is near. And he’s always near. Stirring a heat inside no forbidden thing ever should. In a world where love is a treacherous game, and vicious schemes are whispered behind every shadow, Alyssane must use every ounce of her charm and cunning to survive, even if it means enchanting the cruel prince out for her blood. ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ The crown prince's fingers trailed down her back, a slow, deliberate path that sent a shiver, half fear half something she did not dare name, through Alyssane. His gaze held hers, intense and unwavering. “What are you hiding?” He murmured, his breath hot against her skin as she defiantly met his eyes, “Maybe I don’t you to find out.” A sly smile curled over his lips and he leaned in, his warmth flooded her heart with mixed emotions, in contrast to the coldness of his eyes with a thinly veiled threat, “Are you sure?” "What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. His eyes locked onto hers, filled with a dark promise. “Everything.”

Alancaster · Fantasie
Zu wenig Bewertungen
55 Chs

The Curse of Nightmare

"Why are you always in the wrong places?"

Alyssane curled her fingers and silently gazed back at Kazmun. She could not utter a single word, she could not breathe, she was hardly standing still―the dying words of the old woman echoed inside her mind without stopping.

Kazmun released her hand, "Are you searching for your cat again?"

Alyssane quietly murmured, "She never listens."

Before Kazmun could confront her or say anything else, Alyssane started to walk back towards the tavern on her own and he followed without a word.

Though he remained silent, Kazmun's presence was too overwhelming for her. It felt like standing at the edge of an abyss―frightening, and alluring.

Alyssane quietly cursed herself.

The night winds felt colder with him, and her thoughts wandered back to that disturbing dream. She faintly remembered the burning ache of a wound on her palm, but the sttange scar on her hand seemed too old to be from that night.

And she had seen Kazmun.

'What if I came to the city and forgot it all? But that would mean I have met Kazmun before...'

Alyssane wondered if he would answer her. 'When he found me in the forest, there were no signs of recognition in his face.'

'Am I putting too much faith in a dream?'

Something shifted in one of the alleys. It was too dark to see, but Alyssane could someone's unmoving eyes constantly watching them.

Kazmun also noticed that, and he told her in a deep low voice, "Stay close."

Alyssane nodded, bracing herself.

The next moment, a small boy emerged, his face red and teary, his small frame trembled as she ran. He seemed as if he was holding back for so long, but now he broke into hiccuping sobs and rushed towards Alyssane.

She flinched, his small hands wrapped around her legs, "Mommy!"

Kazmun's cold demeanor dimmed for a moment, and he raised a surprised brow at Alyssane. She frowned, "No."

"My m-mommy…" the kid broke down in more tears.

Alyssane felt uneasy from the vulnerability of the child. But what was there she could do? She hesitantly patted his head, trying to think of comforting things to say but her mind suddenly felt blank, 'What if I say the wrong thing?'

She did not despiced children but they did leave her uncomfortable.

Alyssane glanced at Kazmun, silently pleading with him to do something.

He did nothing. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of amusement perhaps, but his demeanor remained distant.

The sobbing child only clutched Alyssane harder as if he were afraid she would not help her either. Alyssane softened her voice, trying to think of something, "E-easy there… please stop crying…"

She could feel his tears through her skirts.

Alyssane had too few memories with her mother, and her moments with her father were half stained in drowsy haze of her past. She tried to remember how they would comfort her and said after a moment, "The ghosts will eat you if you don't stop crying."

The sobs slowed down, but now the child was shivering uncontrollably. 

"Did I say something wrong?" She whispered, her voice concerned yet fearful, trying to speak with the boy but it was impossible. He only wanted to be with someone, he was too frightened.

'This is so confusing…'

'Unnerving.'

Alyssane looked at Kazmun, "it's―it's distressing," she said, what would make a child so young cry so hard? "Please carry him.'

Kazmun coldly responded, "No."

And he wondered, as she let out a sigh of disbelief, what made her so easily reveal her emotions this time? She had been like a ghost before―her gaze always so distant, making one wonder what truly went in her mind.

"If you do nothing," Alyssane murmured looking at the small boy, her voice somewhat unsteady but certain, "I am also going to start crying with him."

She glanced at Kazmun with a sincere gaze, "Good luck taking me back to the tavern."

Kazmun frowned, he subconsciously glanced at the street up ahead to see if there were some patrolling knights. But there was no one he could call.

With a reluctant sigh, he bent slightly and pried the child's hand open from around Alyssane. There was no resistance.

"It's going to be alright," he murmured, and Kazmun had that kind of voice hard to ignore. Low, deep, and so easily soothing when he intended it to.

The sobbing boy sniffled, still shivering but his cries slowed down as he gazed back at Kazmun. He did not move for a moment.

Alyssane held the boy's other hand, "What happened with your mommy?"

He glanced at Kazmun, and only when there was a small nod, did the boy answer in a meek voice, "Nothing… but I can't return home."

"What were you doing here?" Kazmun asked.

"I was going home at sunset, but then… th-there were so many of them… and I got scared, I couldn't…" The boy's face turned white, his body shivering once again.

Her heart felt strange at that. What are the chances no one noticed a troubled child? 

"...they?" Alyssane asked,

The boy hesitated, swallowing hard before speaking in a quivering voice, "Witches… everywhere…"

Alyssane shared a confused glance with Kazmun. She was not sure what to make of those words. But the city was a confusing puzzle.

"Lead the way," was all Kazmun said.

With a shaky nod, the boy agreed. His anxious steps led them through some dimly lit streets and alleys. There was no one, anywhere and the silence felt haunting.

"Is the city cursed?" Alyssane asked, not expecting an answer.

No doors of the houses were open, no windows, not even the lights. How could they all just leave? Some houses did have shadows moving around, but how were they able to live like this?

"Perhaps," Kazmun said, "What we know now is that a strange ailment has been plaguing the city, and some nights ago things took a turn for worse."

The boy looked between Kazmun and Alyssane with wide eyes and nodded, "My father won't wake up!"

"He's dead?" she asked dubiously.

"Sleeping," Kazmun frowned at the choice of her words in front of the teary child, she frowned back at his hypocrisy, and he added "Half of the city is like that. They suddenly fall asleep, and don't wake up."

"Damn," she whispered.

"Not the worst part." 

The three of them soon entered a long street, and they finally found the 'witches'.

More than a dozen women dressed in black robes, their faces veiled, loudly and impatiently whispered to themselves. None of them moved, but their eyes blankly turned their way.

Alyssane watched them carefully, unnerved, curious, as she realized all the women seemed too human to be anything other than that. Was that an act? Some cult ritual? Mass psychosis?

'...They suddenly fall asleep and don't wake up.'

Her eyes slightly widened as the realization finall dawned upon her. Alyssane was too young when she first heard of the curse, half it's details were forgotten from her mind.

"Are they asleep right now?" She whispered with uncertainty.

"Mn." Kazmun's voice was cold once again, "Let's not disturb them."

Alyssane was too uncomfortable to say anything more.

Many many years ago a mysterious curse had struck the imperial capital of Sol Valeria and no other place. It lasted for one night, people complained of nosebleeds and migraines, before suddenly collapsing into a nightmarish slumber.

They never woke up.

The curse vanished as abruptly as it had appeared and no one survived. 

Alyssane glanced at the boy. His legs were trembling from fear, his face white but he had not complained. Silently, she carried him up. 

Kazmun added after a while, "It's different this time, slower."

She was not sure how to respond to that. 

The mysterious death of Lord Chancellor, her nightmares, missing memories―what if they were all connected? Alyssane felt there was something they all had in common.

And yet, she also felt unsure of everything.

A warm trickle trailed down her nose, Alyssane touched her face and her fingers returned red. "What even…?"

Kazmun's eyes darkened as he took the small boy from her hands, "Are you going to faint?"

She wiped the blood from the back of her hand, and it slightly shook. 

The first symptom of the Nightmare Curse was inexplicable nosebleed.