The night draws in. The new bedroom in the palace is just too... manly. The room, despite its many grand decorations, reeks of strong musk and green-colored walls.
If a snake found its way in, it could easily mistake this place for a forest. The bed is too big, as if it were made for a family of five. Over it lay soft sheets. They are silky but wrinkle as soon as I land on them.
My sore legs already give up on worrying about what to do next. But the fears that tomorrow brings aren't lost on me.
Just then, someone walks in. I am still not used to the maids, the guards, and the servants. They are always stationed outside my room.
It feels impossible to live here without scrutiny. I wonder, how did people get past snoopy employees?
"What do you want?" I asked as the maid brings in a tray of fresh fruits.
"Why, Your Highness, we have brought your most coveted delicacies—just the way you like them," the woman said, putting the large, shiny tray over what looked like a table.
She was wearing loosely fitted, long silk robes. They wrapped her features snugly. All of a sudden, I felt a heat rush to my cheeks.
The bulge between my legs swells up as I watch her move. I bite my bottom lip and quickly look away.
"If Your Highness wishes for something, please call for me. I shall be stationed at the nearest servants' quarters," the woman said, her eyes fluttery and laced with kohl and something shimmery.
Do they have makeup here?
"Thank you. That'd be all," I said, and her eyes went wide.
She fell to her knees, causing the slit of her dress to expose her thighs. All the heat rushed between my legs, and I groaned.
What is with this stupid body acting like a pervert?
"Your Highness, your words are like the grace of God. Serving you is the best thing that has happened," she said.
Has her voice always been so smooth?
Truth be told, I wouldn't know. I didn't want to know. This was remotely disgusting. It's like my soul is caught in the body of a pervert. I cringed at the thought.
"Please, get up. I want you to leave," I scoffed, my annoyance obvious.
The girl lifted herself from the floor. She dragged her long silk robes behind her, and I let out a sigh.
Now, I had another thing to worry about—my own dick. How does one use it? Does one control it? Or does it control you?
The nuances of being a man were lost on me. What would you expect from me? Neither did I have any appetite, nor did I have the urge to urinate.
What good is this dick for?
This was an impending moment of torment. Most males know what their bodies are doing. But not me. Because mine is a freaking dragon.
I sighed and rolled onto the bed. The faint glow of the oil lamps was fading. It was only a matter of time before they gave out.
If I am lucky, no one will come to tend to them, and I can devise a plan to run away from this wretched place.
Maybe, if I can find anything about The Greater One, I would understand the nature of this accursed life.
I shut my eyes. Even here, sleep doesn't come easy.
Hour after hour, time slips by. The faint glint of light against the chandelier slowly disappears as the lamp runs out of oil.
No one comes to check on me, and I hope for the best.
Outside, cool winds flow. Some of them make their way into my room. The stars here are clear, almost as if there's no reason for them to hide.
My head leaves a dent against the pillow as I await sleep. Still, another hour goes by.
The winds turn cruel, dragging the curtains with them. Painfully aware that I would have to spend the night without sleep, I step out of bed.
My toes press against the cold floor. I creep to the window, taking in the view.
The night sky expands everywhere. A city sleeps underneath. Small lamps give away light, but their distribution is limited.
The guards stationed outside the palace haven't left their posts yet.
Just then, I trace a moving silhouette. I rub my eyes to see if I am dreaming.
The next moment, the silhouette walks close to what looks like the West Tower. I disregard it.
My lips sigh, and just as I am about to move back to my bed, a cloaked figure stands by the door of the room.
God. Not another problem.
"I will spare the drama. Please do not kill me, if that's what you have come here for," I scoffed.
Could a girl ever ask for a day without drama?
"Who are you?" The voice is sweet. Also sultry. Like honey melted on her tongue.
"Huh? Almost everyone knows who I am!" I was a bit offended. Hell, even before I knew who I was, people knew.
"I don't like to repeat myself. Do not test my patience." Her pitch even grew shrill.
For a woman in such difficult times, she sure was brave.
"See, whoever you are... I respect women. A lot. Despite the limitations of my body," I blush.
"But it's really inappropriate, even for someone in a medieval civilization, to barge into a man's room in the dead of night," I said.
"Such vile accusations!" she screamed, then plastered her hand over her mouth.
"It's okay," I said. "Unless, of course, you are here to kill me. You can leave now," I said.
"Enough of your mindless ramblings! I know who you are! You are just a pale imitation of myself—"
Then, her figure moved. Her cloak slid off her shoulders.
The warm glow of the last of the lamp lights accentuated her high cheekbones. Her lips were stained a gorgeous tint of red. Her eyes were blue, while long blonde hair flowed.
Her curves hugged her dress—though, at this point, I had begun to think it was testosterone speaking.
She was close. Very close. Dangerously close. Before I knew it, a blade was pressed to my neck.
"God. Why does everyone want to kill me?" I sighed.
Her eyes met mine, and she stared into them like she had a personal vendetta against me.
"I am not here to kill you. I am here to take over what's mine!" she shot back.
I raised a brow at her. Come to think of it—crazy woman, in a guy's chamber, knows how to hold a blade, threatens to kill me...
Now, I might sound like a chauvinistic pig, but...
"You are not a woman, are you?" I said, and her fingers wrapped around my throat.
"Then what do you suppose I am?" she hissed.
"You vaguely resemble a character from this shitty story that I am stuck in," I scoffed.
"You are not Duke Canton. Who are you?" Her eyes narrowed.
"I am Duke Canton. I am a man. And I have a dick. And I have possibly everyone out there to testify for me.
But who are you?" I asked.
"I am your death." The woman lifted her blade and jabbed it into my abs.
"Motherfucker!" I screamed as pain shot up.
This bitch!
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