Dark Prince: The Death Realm

Chapter 2

Fingers tapped impatiently against the dark wooden armrest of a high throne. The prince stared blankly at the empty throne room before him, barely moving in order to brush his long dark hair back from his face. It was such a tedious thing, court hours; listening to the newly-turned adults with their simple problems that were solved with just a few words of experience. He often wondered why they had to come to him.

But then, what else would he do with his time? Genevia, the Fae Queen, seemed to be busy ruling the Riverwick glen, but he, if he didn't have to do these court hours several times a day, seemed to have hours of free time.

A lot of his shadow-advisors told him that he shouldn't even consider courting a Riverwick fae, let alone the fae queen. But he ignored them, choosing instead to follow his heart. They had repeatedly told him the dangers of a were-beast and a fae being in a relationship together.

What do they know? his mind told him. The last were-fae couple was centuries ago.

But for some reason, he always seemed to have a sort of internal dialogue going on like some sort of broken shadow, some sort of insane man.

She's centuries old. What if it were her?

It can't be her. She would have told you.

What makes you think that? What business is it of yours what happened in centuries past? She was probably alive the ancient Great Were-Shadow was alive and forming this realm with his wispy, cold paws.

"Your highness?" a servant timidly interrupted his thoughts. The prince shook his head, trying to shake himself out of the dark daydreams that his mind had already started to think up.

"What is it?" he snapped, wishing he didn't sound so angry, but he wasn't about to retract his words. He wasn't about to retract his power over one of his own people, for as his father had told constantly told him, 'You need to stand by your words and your tone. A king who keeps his word is trustworthy.'

"Another shadow-beast is here to see you, sir. I have been told to warn you that he might unwillingly transform before you." the servant said, retreating hurriedly as though frightened that the prince himself might transform at this news.

The prince frowned and nodded to the servant who was already out of the room before he had even raised his head a quarter of an inch. After a few long moments, the large set of double doors opened before him and in came an old man whom was surrounded with wisps of smoky black, like dark smoke from a fire.

As the elderly man shuffled forward, the prince took a good look at him. He was clothed in a tattered, loose-fitting brown shirt and trousers that were too tight, much too small and covered in so many holes that he wondered how the man kept any heat within his body during Lochdeer's harsh winters. The prince unconsciously adjusted his own clothing made of fine silks and fabrics which many a tax payers' dollar had gone into making.

The prince stared at the old man quietly as the man nearly fell on his face in order to kneel before his leader. The prince slowly moved his head down half a hair to acknowledge the person's act before him. It took a full two minutes before the older man straightened up--as much as he could straighten up with his bent back.

"Your highness." the man's old voice was croaky and rough like a frog with a dry throat.

"What is your issue." the prince tried his best to make it sound as though he cared and was not about to fall asleep, but it took a lot of effort, and even he could tell how fake and forced he sounded.

"I have been transforming weeks before the white moon, unlike during the rest of my life."

The prince closed his eyes, massaging his eyes beneath closed eyelids while he thought about the problem of the man standing before him that was decades older than him. Before he opened his eyes, however, the prince heard a quiet anguished growl and heard the sound of air light paws padding out of the room.