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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.” ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ Thank you for stopping by~! Enchanting The Cruel Prince is in a beta phase that I am slowly developing by managing a few hours from my packed schedule. The updates will remain slow, but if you enjoy the story, you can add it to your library and revisit it when there are more chapters or the novel is completed. Feel free to share any thoughts you have in the comments. Happy reading!

Alancaster · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
129 Chs

A Haunting Reflection

The Lores speak of a time when the entire continent was covered in an endless winter, cursed onto the lands by old gods, and even as their curse waned with time, it was never entirely erased.

And so, each winter, someone in every household of Lower Valeria would be driven dangerously close to death. Those who survived would never be the same again, never at peace, and those who died would never be able to go to the other world.

Gavin said it was their spirits that haunted the winter nights. The deceased would stay away from where there was light, but the orchard was shrouded in complete darkness. Stay closer to me, he said snaking his hand around her.

And her smiles dimmed. Alyssane grew silent, he was acting differently, she could tell but she was not sure what was happening either. He could have simply held her hand, but he pressed her too close to him.

His hands were everywhere, in her hair, slipping under her dress, and he was no longer listening to her when she asked him to stop. 

She lived in a brothel, Alyssane might have been blind to his intentions at first but she was no fool. Only insane. And as a crazy person would, she laughed and embraced him tightly―Gavin was surprised, but then he was screaming as she bit his ear, and his sour blood filled her mouth.

He was too startled, too much in pain, to do anything. And so, Gavin only shoved her back and left, locking her inside the orchard for that night.

After that night, whenever Alyssane was to be punished, it was through Gavin's hand. He loved something about it that she never really understood.

And she hated him as she should.

Even when her mind refused to ever let go of the moments when he had made her feel cared for, subconsciously the person in her memories and the man who reveled in her misery became different.

It always stayed that way.

Nothing in the world should make her feel different, nothing could ever erase the scars he had given, and yet when she saw all his viciousness falter in the face of death―her heart pounded as if she too was seeing her final moments.

.

.

'What is wrong with me?'

It was infuriating.

Kazmun stopped in front of her, the sound of his steps cutting through the haze of her mind, his voice brought her out of the memories but could not hear what he had said.

He offered her a hand, and silently, she accepted it. 

"Are you okay?" Kazmun asked.

Alyssane shook her head, looking down at her clothes. They made her feel sick to the stomach. Everything was stained red, the room, her clothes, her skin―everything was revolting.

"I want to leave…" she lowered her gaze and whispered in a distant voice.

She wished everything would vanish, and she would be alone and free in some wilderness no one had ever known, where no one could find her, nothing could touch her.

Kazmun said nothing, his gaze lingered on her for a long silent moment before he left the room without a word.

Some knight took Madame Juan away, and barely a minute had passed when the maid from earlier came to the room with two more maids, each one of them equally anxious, somewhat confused, as they shared glances among themselves.

One of them hesitantly informed, "Lord Kazmun had sent us to help you get ready and… uh cleaned… from all that blood."

Alyssane blinked, puzzled. Why would she need help bathing?

"Strange," one of the maids agreed with a sigh, "But everything has been strange lately. Please just let us wash you."

"We are scared of that man," another maid added in a low voice.

Alyssane was feeling utterly exhausted. She said nothing more and allowed the maids to help her inside the bathing chamber. They were somewhat clumsy with preparing the bath and Alyssane, sometimes too rough as the maids were only used to assisting in housekeeping duties.

They also talked a lot, telling Alyssane how the carriages were being prepared. Half of the knights were going to leave Pearl Manor. They never planned to stay in the Pearl Manor, but something had happened that made Kazmun return even after he had left.

The girls also warned Alyssane.

"Be careful to not upset the knights!"

"Just stay silent."

"Agree to anything they ask of you."

"We… we hope you make it out alive."

Alyssane remained silent. 

Her thoughts were weary and numb. So much had happened in the span of a few hours, so much made no sense.

She did not see Kazmun again as she was led towards the carriages by a knight who held the small trunk with her few belongings and clothes.

There were only three carriages and half a dozen horses and knights outside the gates of Pearl Manor.

Alyssane was all alone in her carriage.

She had heard the knights were going to remain in Moonshire for longer but she was not sure whether it would be the same for her.

The carriage rattled over the uneven path, and as the wooden box gently swayed, Alyssane drifted off to the darkness of her sleep.

And a dream she wished she never it.

She was plunged into the heart of the Pleasure City, in a palace she had never been to, never known, and she gazed at the distant silhouette of a familiar tower.

In the darkness, the charred walls were like demonic shadows from afar.

The moon was a rare shade of blue.

Fireworks burst overhead, in clouds of vivid shimmers all while a sinister haze of violet smoke seeped through the winds of the night.

And then, the town bell rang for the first time in years―ominously, impatiently.

Their sound a haunting lullaby lulling her into deeper, distant darkness, into what felt like a memory not hers.

She closed her eyes, trying to regain control over consciousness, she had to see what was happening, she had to know, but the drowsiness was far too strong. 

'Something is not right…

Her vision slipped in and out of her grasp as she clutched the railings tight, catching only glimpses of all that happened, of the ghostly empty streets, the long wound on her palm that bled without stopping.

And him.

With a sudden start, Alyssane's eyes snapped open. Her nerves were bound in a frozen knot as all the forgotten fears and worries flooded her heart once again.

'Kazmun?'

It had merely been a glimpse, but Alyssane could feel the raw intense hatred in his eyes, one that burrowed deep into her bones.

Alyssane softly exhaled, closing her eyes

'It can't be real… they have to be dreams, nothing more…'

But then, her heart sank, 'Everything is so silent.'

The Pearl Manor was situated on the outskirts of the city, half surrounded by a forest many deemed cursed, it was usual for there to be no sounds around the manor.

But Alyssane had heard how Moonshire was never asleep, never dull―instead, it was always alive with a heavenly festive air. All sorts of people and pleasantries enchanted the city streets.

'Maybe we are going somewhere else.'

Alyssane hesitantly pulled the curtains from the windows, and as soon as her gaze fell outside, a cold rushed through her veins.

The tall ornate buildings of Moonshire surrounded them, painted in all the bright colors, but the streets were empty and abandoned―a haunting reflection of her dream.

The Imperial Capital of Sol Valeria - Esmeria, is situated at the crown of Mount Myrrah, it's surrounding areas are referred to as the 'High Valeria' and are the thriving and rich lands of noble houses.

On the other hand 'Lower Valeria' refers to the part of the empire situated at the bottom of the mountain range that is plagued with poverty and crime.

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