The Mistress' Revenge

Lewis' POV

The guards are already loitering around the palace doors. The posts near the palace gate seems to be empty. I worry for sending Joel without much information.

The Grand Palace, was an eight storey building. History has it that it was made with the help of the Mages for King Reginald, the third. It's walls were polished with gold and erinum. The ceilings were encrusted with jade, sapphires and ruby to show off the King's luxury. That was three centuries before my father took to the throne.

Outside, the palace walls were guarded with protection spells. Stone Gargoyles remained frozen, waiting to strike at any intruders. The magic had weakened over the years, but the Palace still radiated it's iridescent energy.

It was gilding with polished admantium rocks, making the outer walls impenetrable. The windows were closed and curtained ever since the Red Daggers striked.

Two towers stood, against the castle wall. One was the laboratory for the apprentice of the Royal Mage, who regulated the protective spells every now and then. The other was an abandoned prison where they held me captivated for years.

It took me years to escape the castle walls. My magic, as a half dragon was limited. And without the knowledge of the scrolls, there was nothing I could do, till I found José.

José befriended me despite the rumours that surrounded me. I was the bastard that would lead my kingdom to doom. That was the prophecy that kept me chained. They would have banished my father, had he not made the wager with The Late Queen Xiealta.

With José's help, I had managed to escape. And I wouldn't have returned, if it weren't for Father's death and Theodore's mysterious absence.

I couldn't reach Joel, unless I get rid of my disguise. Or else, they'd know. Word would get around and there would be more mess. The Council's looking for a moment to strike at me. Years of convincing my father to kill me, and telling the people of Gestalt that I cannot be the King because I was impotent.

They made me think I was less of a man. When infact, I was more than just a man.

I knew the way in through the West Tower. I watched the commotion gather in front of the Gate. That was what I was hoping for. The advantage of asking Joel to show up.

As the commotion drew soldiers around the little girl, I knew I was fighting for time. If I miss it, there would be a good chance that they might end up scurrying off the girl.

I rushed to the backdoor at the foot of the West Tower. It pushed the third brick from the ground, and the gate opened. Hidden under the veil of what appeared as the wall.

I was quick on my toes, closing in the distance that led me straight to my chambers. If anything, I had learnt how to use runes from my time at North. I had carefully planted one teleportation rune at the West Tower.

It was a safe choice. No one ever came here. The rune led to all the important places that I needed an easy access to. It could also take me to my Mother's palace. But I wouldn't risk it.

Now that I was the sole heir, it was better to do the things the right way. Mother had to get the message from Sir Rupert. I couldn't tell her to face at least. Maybe when she sees the amulet, she would understand.

I tore the horrible disguise off my body. Once dressed in my more comfortable robes,

I walked to the palace grounds, hoping Joel was still there.

"Guards," I screamed, as the commotion remained still.

"Your Highness," they made way, turning to face as me as I watched the scene unfold.

One of the guards laid on the ground with his neck chopped off as his body withered.

"Who's responsible for this?" I demanded, and watched closely as Joel's face came into focus.

"I am, Your Highness," I recognised the familiar voice.

Blood spalterred her face, as she held the bloodied sword. Her eyes shone brilliantly. The blood drenched her robes as she watched the other soldiers fiercely.

They had all pulled out their swords.

"Yield!" I instructed, and they all stepped back.

"Help, My Lord! This street scum has killed one of our brothers!" They wailed.

"Joel! Is it true?" Did my judgment get the better out of me?

"Your Highness," she bends her knee.

"Your soldier tried to grope me. They threatened to tear away my clothes and rearrange my organs when I told them I was here to meet you," she explains.

"I asked him to stop but he won't listen. So I pulled out his sword and cut off his neck," she said, dropping the sword at my feet.

"Who threatened this girl with such a heinous act?" My voice thundered. But they won't answer.

"Do you not train yourself enough to tell the just from unjust? Do not show me your face until you have repented enough for your crimes. I order you all to follow Sir Marshall to the South Borders. The rations won't be doubled," I announced and watched the fierce warriors, with their knees knocking.

The only reason I was standing here, barking orders at them wasn't because they respected me. It was because they feared me.

"Clean up the palace gates. I don't want filthy blood marring my palace," I seethed.

"The rest of you, escort the little girl to my study. She is my guest. Make sure that she has everything that she needs and make her feel welcomed," I was in no mood to jest.

I knew the soldiers were barbaric. But Joel had slayed one, right when she arrived on the palace doors.

"You Bastard devil!" I didn't realise, but a soldier had turned on me. His blade struck out.

"She murdered my brother. That filthy wench!" He striked his sword at my face, as I ducked.

My pulse roared, as I felt my jaw clenched. My fangs grew, as my back arched. In defiance, my palms moved. My nails growing longer as my skin turned hard.

My hair flowed, and I felt the breath of sea course within.

"You muck!" I groaned, as my body morphed. Whiskers shot up, close to my nares and wings protruded from my forearms. My eyes glowered as I heard the clash of metal with rock.

Before I knew, I was biting into the traitor's flesh as my nails tore his flesh apart. With brute strength I strangled his neck, and then awaited the crack.

His mug disjointed, as warm blood flooded from where his head once was. An echoing cry filled the air as I roared.

"Do you dare cross me?" My voice was almost unrecognisable. It was months. Months. And yet I hadn't forgotten the taste of blood against my tongue.

"Bend your knee, dunderheads," Joel spits, as she gracefully bows. "The Dragon Prince has regained his form."