Diana Of Alcotta (Yrsoreth Chronicles 1)

15 ♔ Blood of the Bastard

❈
❈
❈

"Is there something you need?" Xander asked. He must have rushed out or maybe even jumped out through windows, seeing his slightly disheveled face.

It was as fast as lightning, Niccolus was already upon Xander, his hand on his collar. "You scheming bastard, it was you who spread the rumors, wasn't it?"

Like how he was known for calmness, Xander feigned ignorance. "I apologize, but I do not know what you mean. What rumor is it, Your Highness?"

As if he could say it out loud. So instead, the crown prince's fist hit Xander's stomach and slammed him on the ground. Niccolus was in a larger built compared to him. "You piece of trash!" His next hit was in Xander's face, then another and another, making Xander's face turn sideways every time. The servants and the knights who followed them could not intervene. Only death awaits a lowborn opposing the crown prince.

But Diana leaped off from her seat before she knew it, and with her small hands, pulled Niccolus right arm. "Please, Your Highness, stop!" She begged as she clung to him. "Please, no more!"

But it was impossible to stop a brute body like the prince, with her small frame. With a push, Diana flew straight to the pavilion baluster. If it were not for Kirien's shrieks, Niccolus would have continued beating the Xander.

The crown prince somehow returned to his senses. He was instructed by her mother to stay low until the issue was resolved, but his rage took the best of him. Niccolus got off from Xander. "If I find out the truth, I'd hang you and your little poor slut in the plaza." Then he spat on Xander's face. The servants parted ways as he stormed out of the garden.

Xander sat up, groaned as he caressed his aching jaw and wiped the spit on his cheek. He dismissed the servant's assistance with just a simple wave. His hand covered his bloody mouth to hide a sinister smile.

Niccolus was simple, just an additional rumor that he, Xander, was the mastermind, the crown prince acted as expected—like how a bastard should.

Yet, his victory was cut off with Kirien's another shriek of "You're bleeding!" as she wiped the blood from Diana's forehead.

Xander was already standing in front of the still fallen Diana. He dismissed the knight who was supposed to carry her and commanded the maids to prepare for the infirmary and inform the doctor.

And yet, she was the one who asked him first, "Are you alright, Your Highness?"

Her addition to the damage was not in the plan of Niccolus' rage. But it was a perfect addition still. Xander could imagine the people murmuring:

'I knew the crown prince was violent, but even to hurt a woman.'

'Such display of character unbecoming of royalty.'

'Maybe the rumor of his birth is true after all.'

And yet, why, looking at Diana, his pawn, sprawled on the ground with her face stained red, bothered Xander?

Bothered to the point that his blood boiled with rage.

So bothered that he wanted to drive a knife to Niccolus' heart before he could murder the royal family in one go.

Wordlessly, he scooped her into his arms and exited the garden, with the worried Kirien and the remaining servants in tow. "Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice soft.

She snaked her hands around him, leaned her head on his shoulders. "It doesn't."

Liar. But he kept the words and felt the warmth of her embrace.