A Tale From Lanoria: The Princess of Barough

Chapter 22: Memories

"Damn it! Get me a white mage then!" he growled. 

While one went up to fetch a white mage, he motioned for the other mage to follow him. Scooping Oriana up himself, the prince carried her from the cold, icy cell just down the corridor. Coming into the other cell, he set her down against the wall. The temperature was at least twenty degrees warmer in that room. It wasn't the best improvement, but she wouldn't perish from the cold.

Leaning her against the wall, he would chain her wrists to the floor with long chains. That way, she could move but couldn't leave. He didn't trust that Oriana wouldn't do something to try and escape after the white mage came. It didn't take long for the mage to come, and he would get the princess's body temperature back up and check on her vitals. He quietly spoke to the prince before leaving the room.

After a moment, the princess woke up and carefully sat up. Oriana took notice of the chains before returning her gaze to those cold blue eyes.

"I believe you owe me a kiss, my sweet," he said as he got closer to her.

"For what?" she questioned.

"For sparing your life, of course, and providing you with all these accommodations."

Her eyebrows rose. "So let me get this right. For kidnapping me, nearly causing me to freeze to death, and then chaining me up, you want a kiss?"

"You forgot the part about how I saved your life," Tyir pointed out.

"You're right; how could I forget such a thing?" Oriana replied. "So, for everything you've done, you deserve the best I could possibly give you."

Closing his eyes in anticipation, Tyir was greeted with a nasty surprise, as Oriana had spat right into the prince's face. His expression quickly contorted in anger as he wiped the spit from his face. The veins on his forehead became visible as his whole face turned red. Tyir gripped her by the shoulders so hard that it left bruises and tore the sleeves of her dress in the process.

He fell onto his butt when Oriana kicked him in the stomach. "I never said you could touch me! I am not giving you permission!" Oriana snarled as she gave the prince a death glare. At her words, it looked like Tyir was about to blow a vein in his forehead.

"I can touch you anytime I want!! You are my prisoner!"

One of the mages put his hand on Tyir's shoulder. "Relax, my lord; she's just trying to get under your skin; once we finish her first treatment, her mind will be so exhausted that she won't be able to move; then you can do whatever you want to her, and she won't be able to stop you," the mage explained to Tyir.

He pulled himself up and dusted himself off. "So be it... Turn her into a mindless bitch. At this point, we don't have a choice. Especially if this is the way she is going to act!" Tyir replied before backing away from the feisty princess, who had attempted to kick him again.

"You really are disgusting, Tyir! If you really loved me, then you would never even think about doing this to me!" Oriana huffed.

"I did love you, Oriana, but I can't love the person you've become. So, I will have them turn you into someone I can love again. I am sorry it had to be this way, but I won't let you destroy my future." Tyir replied.

With the prince out of the way, both of the psionic mages got closer. Seeing them coming at her, fear began to creep up the princess's spine. She scrambled away from them as far as she could. "Better stay back! I know magic now!"

"Your courtmage taught a tiny little human like you magic, huh? I doubt that. You must think we are idiots!" one of the mages asked, laughing at the thought. The psionic mage to the right of her got to work as his eyes began to glow white. Oriana felt her body moving of its own accord and being forced to her feet. Her rigid body moved a few feet as the chains shook from her stiff movements.