The Prince's Suitor ManxMan

Chapter 7

Firstly, there is a lot of head hopping between Jaicous and Raphion in this chapter. Since I've have been rewriting this chapter is relatively okay I've decided to leave it as it is for now. And I'm sure everyone wants a new chapter instead of this one taking up my time to be rearranged, right? :)

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Chapter Seven

Raphion hauled Jaicous through endless hallways until Jaicous himself had lost count and forgotten the route they had just taken. Whether this was a plan of the cunning Prince or not Jaicous did not know. He began to wonder how big the castle actually was but its size was beyond his knowledge. He had seen its magnitude from afar of course, as every gatherer collecting wood had. It was magnificant compared to other kingdoms', its towering stone walls one could exaggerate soared above the clouds. Its spires pierced the sky. No matter what angle you observed the Kingdom, the sense of impending doom should you strike and attack seared into those from the mere sight of its size.

No wonder Raphion behaved like he was above everybody else. Which he was, Jaicous acknowledged but he'd be damned if he ever admitted it to him. Raphion had power, Jaicous had to credit that. Jaicous didn't have a castle, or a battle at his whim nor servants for his every need. Nor did he have the power or sheer audacity to force one of his people to become his bed slave which Jaicous knew he would undoubtedly become if he wasn't careful. But Jaicous did have something that the Prince did not; anonymity. They all knew his fake name, but only a few knew he was the suitor by face, but that would soon change Jaicous contemplated. Soon he wouldn't be able to walk the Kingdom without everybody knowing who he was. If he wanted to escape it would have to be soon. Tonight.

The only thing standing in his way was Prince Raphion, Docetre, Eiamus, his Personals and an entire castle of hallways and Knights. He cursed himself for not exploring sooner when he was actually allowed to roam parts of the castle unguarded as a gatherer. At least there were a few places he could tick off his castle tour, he wasn't completely unaware of the castle's layout. But he was unaware of at least three quarters of the castle. Jaicous bit out a growl of anger. He only knew the servants quarters which were below ground. He didn't have a chance of navigating around the top floors.

Nothing had changed either, the King had accepted Raphion's lies with no questions asked. There had been some reluctance to accept the fact that Raphion had chosen and announced his suitor without King Onesian's consent but no fight had been initiated. He had seemed to have other things on his mind, totally obliviant to the poor Gatherer boy who didn't belong there. He had been more concerned about his own Suitor who apparently had issues keeping it in his pants.  

Everything was the same as it had been before the horrendous meeting with the King, only this time Raphion was dragging Jaicous along by his sleeve as if he was a naughty pet who needed scolding. And Jaicous certaintly was no pet.

Jaicous caught a glance of Docetre. He was suprised to see that Docetre no longer looked as if he wished him dead but instead held his gaze onto the charging Prince. His eyes were blood shot and his jaw wide open. His eyes brimmed with something Jaicous could not grasp. Jaicous considered teasing the man but a sharp pain registered in his forearm sent him fuming on a different matter.

To others at a glance, Raphion held Jaicous's arm in a gentle embrace as one would a friend, a lover, a Suitor dragged away in mere comical jest. But the finger nails creating deep cresents in Jaicous's skin told a different story.  

Jaicous's eyes turned aflame, emerald pupil's shot to slits in a matter of seconds. He met the cool sea blue eyes of Raphion, narrowed down upon Jaicous with a silent threat. Raphion smiled down at Jaicous contray to his predatory gaze, his lips teasing at the corners. He found Jaicous amusing to say the least but he would not tolerate his suitor misbehaving or disobeying his orders directly in front of spectator's. Not even if that spectator was Doctre, one of his most loyal servants.