The Blood King's Bride

The Kingdom of Pres.

A year after Elena's mother's death...

Emptiness. That was a feeling Elena was getting used to. That soul-sucking emptiness

formed a huge hole in her chest. It's been a year since the death of her mother. Nothing has been the same since then. She looked at herself, as she sat hidden beneath a kitchen table, trying to avoid being caught by anybody. The son of one of her father's ministers has just tried to rape her. Nikolas was his name. The first time she saw him was on her way to her room from the palace garden. He was with his friend, on who she recognized as the son of Côtan Loki, her Father's closest advisor. His name was Afang Loki, and if not for the company he kept, Elena would have deemed him a suitable friend.

He was one of the kingdom's heartthrobs. Many girls giggled whenever he walked by.

His tall stature and muscular frame caused different series of imaginations by so many girls. Not that they would never have come to pass rumours have it that even at his young age, he was the master in bedroom activities. They were once almost friends, back when her mother was still alive. Even his father was nice to her. Ever since her stepmother came, their attitude took a drastic turn. Afang avoided her at all costs, and his father began to look at her with contempt. It had hurt, she would admit. Perhaps a part of her had hoped that they would be much different than the people who resided in the castle. Those same people laughed at her mother when she was alive and even after her death. But she couldn't be surprised. A world of joy and happiness

was not meant for her.

Her mother was the proof of that.

She had just returned from the garden, where she planted some flowers and herbs. For all the things that she lacked even as a princess, she was happy that she was at least given the privilege to tend to the garden. Maybe they had seen it as just another chore for her to do, but she was content with this one. This was hers, and fortunately, no one had destroyed it. Afang Loki and Nikolas were walking down the hallway leading to the garden. Had she been respected as a real princess, she would have walked boldly over to them and offered them a courtesy. They would have given her a slight bow and would have made small talk with her. Perhaps, would have even invited her out. She saw the way her step sister related with them and no matter how hard she tried to deny it, she knew deep in her heart what she felt whenever she saw them together.

Jealousy. Pure frustrated jealousy.

She was the real princess, the firstborn child and her birth wasn't even announced to the people of Pres. She was meant to be treated with respect wherever she went and yet, it was contempt that greeted the eyes of whoever saw her. The king was also her father. He should be the one talking and relating to her. He should have come to meet her after the death of her mother. She doesn't even know if he had ever visited her since she had been born. All these and

so many others were meant to be hers. Why did she have to get the shorter side of the stick when she never agreed to draw it in the first place? Why did her mother have to die? And why was she given a commoner's burial?

Her mother has told her that her grandparents were the king and queen of the Kingdom of Neba. Weren't they aware of what was happening to them? Why didn't they come to their aid? She can't remember how many times she had asked herself that question and no matter how many times she asked it, she knew that she would not be getting an answer anytime soon. With a heavy sigh, she blended into the shadows and started going straight to her rooms, hoping that the heavens were on her side.

"You there? What do you think you're doing? Come over here!"

The heavens not surprisingly were not on her side. They too had abandoned her.

She slowly turned her head to face who has called her. That was when she saw the guys, and that was also her first encounter with Nikolas.

"Good day," she whispered nervously, not having the courage to look them in the eye.

That particular action had landed her in different kinds of trouble, one she wished not to follow her again.

"If it isn't the slave princess," Nikolas said, snickering as he came closer to her. He was a handsome man, with smooth skin and sandy blonde hair. He walked to Elena and placed his

hands on her chin, dragging her face up to meet his eyes. With the way he grinned mischievously, she was sure that he could see the nervousness shining through her eyes. "You're not so bad to look at." He said, his eyes suddenly turning heated. "Why don't we do have some.... fun?" He leaned closed to her and she leaned back instinctively. At that, he clutched her neck tightly to hold it in place. She was shivering, and she was sure that her shaking knees were visible, exposing her fear. She looked at Afang reflexively and saw how he was looking at them with a bored expression on his face. Her heart shouldn't have broken at that, but it had.

"Please, l-leave me alone." She stuttered.

"Hmmm?" Nikolas leaned closer. "What was that I heard?" She could feel the tears

brimming in her eyes as he held her face, but she forced it in. She was going to protect what little pride she had left.

"Nikolas, we have a job to do." Afang suddenly said. Nikolas chuckled as he released her slowly.

"We would meet again." He whispered and followed Afang who had already started his journey without a single glance at her.

He didn't forget his promise. They met again, and he gave her an experience that would stain her for life.

BONUS