The Crown Prince walked through an abandoned corridor of the red and black castle he will one day rule from, trying to hide from his mother and her manipulations. Being her son, and a man, he saw right through his mother in a way his father could not. Endrid believed his father a soft, too trustworthy man and not fit to truly rule. The only thing Endrid believed his father did right, was hire the infamous assassin Anastasia Damarcus as a bodyguard for him.
“If she catches feelings though, that might be a problem,” Endrid had told his father earlier that evening.
“Trust me son she won’t, but if she does she would make a fine wife,” His father had replied.
“Oh older brother! Mother has been looking for you!” The sweet voice of his younger sister, Valencia, said, pulling him from his thoughts.
“You act as if I care, Valencia,” He replied in a harsh tone as he turned to his sister.
“You should! It’s our mother!” Val said, grabbing onto his arm and starting to drag him out of the corridor.
“Valencia Arsenoff! You unhand me right now! I cannot be seen letting the runt of the family drag me around! It’s insulting!” Endrid yelled, ripping his arm out of Valencia’s hand.
“Sorry My Prince,” Val said, quickly stepped away from her fuming brother looking down.
Endrid straightened out his red jacket, glaring at his sister, before walking away from her. He loathed his siblings, they were always the star of the show to their mother. His father on the other hand thought of his sisters as pawns to marry off, which of course was correct. They were nothing but objects to nurse children and if poor, to also take care of their husband’s estate. There was nothing good about women other than that and their looks, but for some reason Endrid and his father make an exception only to their assassins. They believe that the way their female assassins succeed is because they somewhat seduce their male targets, which are the only targets they are given.
He walked towards his mother’s bedchambers, where she’s been spending most of her days. Endrid made it to her room and took a deep breath before knocking on the door.
“Come in!” The sweet angelic voice of his mother yelled.
Endrid walked inside the room and dismissed the guards stationed inside. His mother gave him a look from across the room where she was sitting reading a book.
“Mother what is it you needed that you had to send Valencia,” He said standing by the door giving his mother a cold hard glare, the only thing he and his mother have in common.
His mother took her blonde hair out her tight bun before standing up and walking over to him. She proceeded to try to slap him but Endrid knew it was coming and grabbed her wrist.
“I could have you hanged for that offense Myra don’t test me,” He whispered, staring at his mother, who knew he wasn’t bluffing.
Myra yanked her wrist from his grip and backed up. She rubbed the now red wrist and glared at her son.
“I asked for you, because we need to talk about future candidates to be your wife,” She said, her eyes shooting daggers where his eyes shot them back.
Endrid rolled his eyes before walking out the room, ignoring the calls of his mother to get back in there. He didn’t get halfway down the hall before his white haired advisor, Atlas Hawke, came to his side.
“What is it now Hawke,” He said, turning to face his half masked advisor.
“Nothing big, your majesty, I just thought that you would like to know Miss Damarcus will be arriving soon. Your father would like you in the throne room for when she gets there,” Atlas said, bowing his head towards Endrid.
“Right, and does this inherently benefit me in any way?” Endrid asked his advisor with a cruel smirk, looking at the mask that covers half his upper face.
“I-I mean i-it would give the King peace of mind, but of course that wouldn’t inherently benefit you! I-if you would so wish, you could meet Miss D-Damarcus another time!” Atlas replied quickly, fumbling over some words as he backed up.
Endrid chuckled in a malicious way, which made Atlas take another few steps away. The Crown Prince walked up to him and clasped Atlas’s shoulder.
“We should probably go to the throne room, father is waiting,” Endrid said before walking away.
Atlas, baffled, quickly followed the prince not wishing to upset him more than he already was. The pair walked through the blande wooden halls, taking different turns, never saying a word to one another. That was until they came upon a huge wooden door, with different symbols and pictures carved into it.
Guards opened the door for the pair once they were announced. They walked inside Atlas a few steps behind Endrid as customary. The King sat on his gold throne with his advisors standing next to him.
“When should the Damarcus woman get here?” Endrid asked his father as he walked up to the throne, Atlas followed and stood to the side with the other advisors.
“Miss Damarcus should be arriving any moment, Duke Caddell has told me he gave my letters to her roughly an hour ago, which means she should be here within the next 10 minutes,” His father answered.
The room was quiet for the next five minutes as the men waited. Endrid sat on a silver throne next to his father, designated for the heir. It stayed quiet until the announcer came into the room.
“Miss Anastasia Damarcus, lady assassin,” The old bald man said before slipping out of the room.
The doors opened and the brunette assassin, in her blue dress, walked inside the grand room. Upon seeing her beauty Endrid sat up, intrigued. She had her head held high, upon seeing the king, she walked up to the center of the room and gave a deep courtesy. Her eyes were glued onto his father’s, her gaze didn’t flicker to the others in the room. The king waved a hand and she stood up, now looking at the other men in the room.
“Anastasia, how have you been? I trust you will take your new assignment with special care,” King Arsenoff said, as Endrid looked over the assassin.
“I have been well, I hope Duchess Ferair won’t be too upset by the blood in her late husband’s study,” She replied, in a sweet tone.
His eyes flicked to Duke Caddell, noticing a goofy smile hit his lips. Endrid narrowed his eyes at the high messenger, who’s smile quickly faded upon noticing the prince’s glare.
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