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Far From Free

A boy longing for revenge with blood-painted hands. He is a cold-blooded psychopath dressed in the glamorous clothes of a prince. In a planned attack on his 7th birthday, Prince Nicolas Gregory lost three important things, his friend Alisa, his innocence, and his memory of his merciless massacre of the culprits with a mysterious ability to conjure a sword. Attempting to fight his emptiness, he tries to live normally as a prince and fulfill his duties regardless of what his heart's cry is. But there are things that one tainted with blood cannot escape. With reminders popping out one after another and the continuous threat to his life, what will he do if his lost memory resurfaces. Will he once again wield the blades of revenge? Will he open his heart to the future? Or will he fall into deeper despair and follow the path of blood?

Grey_Petrichor · ファンタジー
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56 Chs

Anton's Report

"Did something happen?" She can't look at him in the eyes.

"Nothing much; Selene said she had something to do, so she left."

This did not help her case; there are only two people in the room now, and she has read too many novels that have this kind of plot. "What do you want to do then?" her left hand held her right arm, shy as she went back to her seat.

"Do you want to stroll around the castle? The garden is not an option, though. Anton is somehow forbidding me to stay there, at least until he gets back."

"Is it hard being his apprentice?"

Nicolas smirked. "Not really; he's also my butler, so I can make things even."

"I see, you're a cheeky one."

"Praise me more," they both laughed, which finally got Meriane thinking straight.

"Say, can you teach me a little bit of swordsmanship? I have always been curious about it, but my father won't let me," she said, pouring herself some tea. "He said I don't need to do so and just follow my mother's example."

"I think it would be troublesome if you were to ever be on the battlefield. It would be much better if you stayed as you are. You have nobles here at Algernon, right? I doubt not anyone from them would let your beauty pass their eyes."

It made her blush. He thinks he's beautiful after all, but that's beside the point. She really wants to learn how to use a sword. "That's true, though, but isn't it better if I can stand my ground all on my own?"

"Well, if you think about it, it will really help you." Nicolas could only imagine how hard the politics would be in Algernon in the future.

After all, there is only one throne, and Meriane has two elder brothers. Both of which who is very much capable. He had only met them a few times during his visits; they even tried each other's skills with the sword before, but their achievements at such a young age show that they are more future-oriented. It might be thinking too much, since based on his observations, both of them are fairly close, but if the ascension to the throne would cause division, even Merinae might be forced to participate.

He knocked three times at the table, hoping none of his speculation would come true while being thankful that he was an only son.

"Are you okay? You look pale," Meriane noticed before Nicolas could smile at her.

"Just remembered something I forgot to do back home. I hope I don't get in trouble."

"Do you want me to help ease your punishment? I can ask Uncle to pardon you even for a bit," she laughed, thankful that finally, after years of waiting, Nicolas no longer distances himself. Comfortable enough that he forgets to maintain formal speech.

"Nope, I can handle him. With that aside, you have an enclosed training room here, right? Let the Great Nicolas Gregory teach you the ways of the sword," he proudly said. "You need a change of clothes though; you'll just ruin your dress. Let's go, I'll escort you to your room."

The castle is peculiarly quiet when they cruised through. Nicolas found it interesting since not even his father can be seen in sight. He got the feeling that they're all avoiding them somehow but it's fine. With him exhausting all the smile to give by talking to the princess, this is more than a gift to him.

They spent the whole afternoon in the training hall. Meriane expected the prince to be a strict instructor but to her surprise, he took note of her weaknesses and built the training as its base.

"Like this?" she swung the sword, but it had little to no force; not even a fly would die. Nicolas, who's trying so hard not to laugh, finally broke. "Don't laugh at me," she pouted, "I told you I have no experience in any of this."

"It's just a wooden sword; I thought you'd have an easier time with it."

"Yeah, it's wood," she swung it towards Nicolas. He was quick to dodge and catch it. "A black ironwood, that is."

"And that's why it's a great practice sword. As long as you can grip it, you're good to go; the other factors are with your stance. Of course, we'll still need to work with that," he said as he stood behind her and took her hand.

Rattled, Meriane can't help but be embarrassed. "What are you?"

"Shushed," Nicolas whispered in her ears. He's directly behind her and assisting her. "Listen, you should hold it like this. If you can't do it in one hand, two is a good starting point, as for your stance." His lecture went on and on until none of them notice that the sun is already finished with its reign. If not for Selene, who found them tired on the floor, they would have made them for dinner.

The dinner is far more colorful than their lunch; the only difference is that this time there are enough people to devour everything. The kings and the queen were eager to ask what happened, but Nicolas survived thanks to Meriane, who's more than willing to share. Surprisingly, the sharp gazes that his father gives off had toned down into a slight poke.

It was only after dinner, when he got back to his room, that he finally received the report from Anton. Exhaustion is painted in his face. The scabbard of his sword was chipped and his earlier neat and dusted white tunic shows signs of struggle.

"What happened?" he whispered, urgency in Nicolas's voice, "Are you wounded, Should I call the maids."

"Stop panicking, would you. They only grazed my handsome face, that's all," he said, raising his fringe, revealing a small cut above his right brow, "What's more, you better sit down. I found the perpetrator; he stuck out like a sore thumb so there's no problem finding them."

"I'm guessing it wasn't a one-on-one then," Nicolas said as he made his way to the comfort room and briefly brought a damp towel to Anton. "But if you can still joke around like that, it wasn't that big of a deal."

"Of course, you're talking to the youngest Knight Commander in the history of Gregoria. Jokes aside, I think you should limit your movements while we're here. There is a possibility that this is a different kind of organization from years ago, the merchants for example. You had always antagonized their plans and I can see the burning hate in their eyes pass their smiles every time."

"I know, but I didn't think they'd resort to this kind of trick; moreover, they have always been unreasonable. Cry-babies," Nicolas ended his sentence with a tsk. "Did you, at least, get information from them."

"Nope, his comrades swarmed me when I'm just about to deliver the final blow, that's why I'm guessing who they are. If you stay here for the rest of the day tomorrow, everything will be fine, after that, the Knights will be able to protect you on the way home. Should I tell this to your father."

Nicolas burst in laughter, "You're telling me you haven't told him yet? Aren't you directly under him."

"I could, if you want to be confined at Gregoria's walls for the rest of your life or until the King decides he's incapable of ruling," Anton finally finished wiping himself. "Did they have dinner already? Hunger might serve my end."

"The attendants of the castle were just about to leave when I left," Nicolas said, heading for the door.

"Where are you going."

"I'm getting you some food."

"Really..." suspicion filled Anton's face, "That's new; are you having a fever or some sort?"

"I'm not that heartless, you know. Besides, I doubt they'll be attempting any acrobatics tonight; I'm more than certain that you gave them a scare of their lives."

Anton grinned, thinking different ways he can take advantage of the situation, "I would also like some wine, thank you."

Nicolas stared at him for a good second, "Fine," he said. He went out the door but held it open. "Just for tonight, I'll be an obedient disciple."

For precaution, Anton slept on the same room, seeking refuge to the sofa after a hearty meal he just had. It was truly a long day, both physically and mentally exhausting. The next day was no different, especially when the princess is much more eager for their next venture.