Chapter 2 : Let's Learn How To Wield A Sword

When I woke up, the pain disappeared.

Thank God. I remembered the door didn't hit me that hard to make me faint from the pain. It didn't make any sense.

Darcio looked older when I saw him.

All the stress from his constant efforts to cheer me up stacked upon his face. I felt terrible for him. Sorry for troubling you, Darcio. I'll stop cursing you out from now.

Morfeo, Tyr, and Yeomra also waited in the room. They begged for my forgiveness, promising to never pull any pranks on me anymore. After all that, then I remembered Darcio's words.

Prince Azriel.

Cursed, feeble body.

Her Majesty.

From those bits of information that I received, I'm aware that I'm a Prince, which sounded very unbelievable that my brain gave up on grasping the information. So I simply acknowledged it.

I was blessed with something that made my body feel any sort of pain ten times worse than average. The purpose was to make everyone protect me, but that didn't make any sense. Maybe there's an error in the blessing process?

Darcio never denies Morfeo's question about it being a curse. In summary, someone must jeopardize the process, and it backfired into a curse. That must be it.

What a terrible curse to possess.

I thought I could live harmoniously in this new body. But not only was I cursed with a fragile body, but guessing from why my mother ordered Darcio to hide me here, someone must've wanted to hurt me.

Worse. Assassinate me.

Basically, I'll be living as a runaway for a long time.

Darcio protected me, and the three brats must've to be designated knights solely to serve me with their lives. It sounded grim, but I couldn't think of any other practical reason.

I feel pity for myself.

And then to my mother, whom I never met.

The pain she must've felt, realizing that she won't be able to watch me grow. She needed to stay and do her duty as a Queen. Or maybe an Empress? I'm not sure. Then what about my father?

How come he couldn't protect me from harm?

Maybe the enemies were too strong? Too risky to kept me in the palace?

If I'm in their position, I might've done what they did too. Putting my child in the middle of nowhere with the strongest soldier they know, then assigned young knights that'll grow big and strong to protect the child.

Then that got me thinking. What about my role?

I'm so useless.

A fragile, weak, little Prince that will be forever cursed with tremendous pain tolerance.

I need Darcio to teach me how to wield a sword, go back home to see my mother and father and tell them that I'm okay.

Ugh, such pitiful life.

"Buu..." I sniffled, feeling sad from my own thoughts. Darcio quickly pulled me away from the blankets, holding me gently with a concerned expression.

"What happened? Still hurts?" He asked quietly, not wanting to startle me. I only stared at him through my wet eyelashes, then pouted.

"Abu," I'm fine, Darcio. Get some sleep, old man.

Despite not understanding my words, Darcio breathed in relief because he believed I appeared okay. He placed me on his belly, and I leaned the side of my head to his chest. His forearm propped my bottom, and his other hand gently caressed my back.

Darcio improved so much. He acted more carefully, more caring. Far different from when I met him for the first time. Tyr and Yeomra acted differently, too.

Except for Morfeo. I don't have any faith in him.

Anyway, even though life is currently ridiculing me right now, I have no other choice but to keep moving forward.

I won't let fate control my life. I'll survive as Azriel!