𝔼𝕍𝔼ℝ𝕎𝕀ℕ𝕋𝔼ℝ ✧ 𝕂ℕ𝕀𝔾ℍ𝕋𝕊 ; [ ᴘᴀssɪᴏɴ ✟ sᴀɪɴᴛ ]

[Passion]

From chanting words of hate to begging for forgiveness regarding a crime she didn't actually commit, it was fair to say that he was drawing out many aspects of the princess that no one ever had. She was all over the board, but that was because he left her scattered and unable to find ground in body or mind. In his cruel hands, she was becoming much more of a fragile woman than a leader or knight, and she might have hated that more than the demon within him. From her father to her rival, it felt like there was an attempt to rewrite her fate. She wouldn't lose hope; she... couldn't, but the present situation was hopeless. Her words nor actions could not save her.

He hushed her and spoke of forgiveness, yet her stomach twisted into a knot; to forgive her, the victim, meant they were now in a reality where she was the transgressor. - She curled up tighter, trying to protect herself from anything else that might come and also attempt to preserve some modesty that was already long gone. His simple touch caused her to jump in place, clearly on edge. She did not find comfort in his touch; instead, it made her feel like she was about to crawl out of her skin. It was a touch she could not trust in the slightest. However, his thoughtful touch would bring her a little light; was he done? Would he let her rest after all she had gone through this difficult night? If only.

With her arms still secured behind her, she was pulled up to her knees and shoulders to be on all fours. The woman trembled, knowing that she was in a vulnerable position once more. His words, while in her favor in a twisted way, did not comfort her. The mention and undertone of a threat regarding her purity and the idea of conceiving disturbed her greatly. In fact, so much so that she found herself speechless. Left only to respond with a whispered yet heartfelt whimper. The threat only solidified with the touch of her susceptible and drooling femininity.

The conviction behind his words and actions would jump-start her vocalization once more. "None of this is respectable or how you are supposed to treat a princess in any context! You know this, Casimir!" Her eyes watered when his touch found its way between her toned yet plump cheeks. "I hate you for doing this for me!" Her hatred and admiration were expressions of her disarray. "D-Don't touch m-me there!" Her body did the opposite of what it should do and tightened up in defense. "I don't want or need to be 'tamed'! You ne-need to stop! You have done enough! I al-...already apologized!" It wouldn't be enough. His fingers pressed against her never-touched and tightest opening.

She thought she couldn't feel more exposed, but when he pulled apart her shapely cheeks to eye her hidden pink, her whole body quivered, and she gasped out. "Don't lo-look!" Of course, the princess kept herself clean, especially on the night of a big event, although she never expected or intended to go back to a man's chambers. She felt extremely violated to be pried apart and looked at in such a way. The humiliation she was feeling would stain her memories.

While she was uncomfortable, all that had happened was nothing compared to what was to come. To prod around was one thing, but she had gotten a vivid taste and sample of him moments before.. So, when she realized what was pressing against her tiny pink, which was bigger than a finger or two, her blood ran cold.

He pushed, and her body prying open and molding just to try to fit him within. "No! No! NO! That won't fit!" She tried to desperately jerk her hips up and away from him, but he would keep her firmly in his locking hold, forcing her to try to take him. He would show her that it was possible by further violating her and splitting her apart. Nyla would erupt into a scream of horror, shock, and pain. "Stop! Stop! You have to! STOP!" The woman's tears fell on the sheets below her while impaled with his girth. However, he would show her what she was capable of; with enough pressure, her tightness caved, and Nyla screamed once more; her body trembled like it had never before.

His stillness taunted her; he was fully within her while it felt like her body was on fire, while her warm tightness squeezed him like a lusty lover despite her strongly rejective words. "GET OUT! GET OUT!" She was now at his utter mercy again. Once choking, and now she felt like if he moved at the wrong angle, she'd be torn apart. He would pull out some, but she did learn how cruel he could be, so she already knew it was wishful thinking that this was over despite the impact he had already left on her.

He slammed back into her, and the woman came to life with another scream, tears of physical and emotional pain streamed down her face, further ruining her makeup. "I'll remember how much I HATE you for THIS!" She growled at him in loathing, but it was cut off by one of her delicate whimpers.

Clearly, she was struggling to endure, and this was the first time she ever felt some kind of intimate void filled in her as a woman—a womanly purpose that Nyla was out of touch with.

The intense sensations shooting through her body, especially her lower half, were gnawing at her. It was maddening. If he didn't keep a tight hold on her, she would try to kick and squirm away—anything to lessen how deeply he was touching her. She had no idea how to embrace the pain; maybe he could force her to, or maybe she would learn in time that the more she fought the more it would hurt by his punishing control and simply by not allowing her body to relax and accept the fate he had written for her this night.

 

[Saint]

Not a single word that emanated from the Princess' panicked and freshly-abused throat would convince the possessed Prince to hesitate. In fact, those delectable, desperate screams would have quite the opposite result— instead encouraging him to ravage her more aggressively. His powerful, commanding grip upon her would tighten as she attempted to writhe free, breaking apart any attempt for the Princess to escape his grip. Indeed, he planned to teach Nyla that struggle was not only inevitable, but something that would be punished at each and every opportunity.

Those screams commanding him to stop, followed by those terrified wails of seething hatred. It earned her no respite as he thrust into her again, the pummeling approach of his waist pancaking her ivory curves, each brutish thrust forcing the Princess a few inches forward, only to be pulled back by the greedy hand hooked upon her waist. The Prince enjoyed the mess that he had created, Nyla's once perfect elegance now contrasted by the blossoming flowers of purple and blue bruises pattered across her once pristine complexion. It was an image that would have only been made better had he been able to see the tears and mess of ruined makeup that he had caused upon her face.

"And I will enjoy every moment of your hatred." He growled out in response to one of Nyla's many threats. He wanted her to remember the price of rejecting him, so that she would think twice about ever confronting him again.

Her attempts to break free would be met with the presence of his strong hands once again. Frustrated by her continued resistance, Casimir's hand fell behind the back of her head, wringing his fingers around those dark locks before pressing his full weight against her. Crudely and unceremoniously, Nyla's screaming face would be pushed against the pillow beneath her, smothering her face against the plush surface, pressing deeper and deeper until her visage would be able to see nothing more than darkness. Even as her chest was pushing against the sheets, his vigorous purchase of her waist would force her lower half to remain upwards, arching back so that he could continue to have free reign over whatever he desired.

"You can resist it as much as you'd like, scream about how much you hate this." He mouthed out the words between the rhythm of vulgar slamthrusts, "But this is your true purpose, as a Princess— a woman." She could fight it for as long as she desired, but he was fully convinced that he was right. It was only a matter of time until he would train Nyla to enjoy this... only a matter of time until that malice and fear upon her face would one day become willful acceptance. "First, your body will surrender to me." She might not realize it, but this was already becoming the truth. Casimir could feel her warm tightness gripping upon him with vice-like strength, as if her body was demanding to be treated with such cruelty. After all, he could feel just how wet she was when his fingers played upon her virginal gates, how her own body was so ready to betray the Princess at the first taste of strong, masculine fingertips.

"And then, the rest of you will follow suit." He remarked, the pace of his thrusts quickening, the strength of his weight against the back of her head pinning her further down. Not only would he violate her, but now, with her screams gagged beneath pillows, he had seized away her ability to speak. Body first. Then mind. As much as he had enjoyed the sound of her incessant screaming and frightened wails, he wanted to show her that even the privilege to speak was something he could strip away from her. Seizing away the ability for her to even vocalize her resistance.

Now, with her vision and voice taken away, she would be forced to feel every inch of him ravage her. A primal, vulgar piston that would steadily strike her, his waist crashing upon hers with a vulgar CLAP!​ as her already bruised rear was slammed upon by the Prince's muscled waist. The beautiful curves of her perfect shape oscillating and reverberating from the crude assault. Faster and deeper, the slickness of her own, frothy saliva being used as lubricant for her own demise. For the moment, she would have nothing else to focus upon but the pain, the humiliation, the desire.

For when she cannot scream, she would only listen... and then she would learn... and then she would obey.

It wouldn't be long until the tempo of those rhythmic thrusts became quicker and quicker, though where they hastened in pace, they deigned not to reduce themselves in their brutality. He thrust harder and more vigorously still, until even his own hand could no longer prop up the weight of Nyla's lower half, his cruel and merciless slamming​ forcing Nyla's body to press further against the bed beneath her, until she found herself prone upon her belly, legs straddled, with the Prince she loathed oh so much still forcefully shoving his pulsating fuckspear into the crevice between her cheeks.

"You will be my Empress." He grunted between quickening thrusts. Eventually, it seemed as if the pounding could go no quicker, the vigor of his movements, the heavier panting of his voice foreshadowing a crescendo that Nyla might not have fully understood yet. Casimir's fingers clung to Nyla's hair, finally pulling her face free from the constraints of the pillows which had been smothering her. He tugged on her hair, pulling her head as far backwards as her flexibility would allow as he quickly approached the point of no return.

"You will be mine." Casimir growled out a final time, that throbbing shape that was nestled deep within her finally bursting out the first taste of sweltering white. Yet, as his shape pulsated, the Prince refused to slow himself in the slightest, the violent mastodon twitching as rope after fucking rope of hot batter plastered the abused Princess' insides, filling up what little space existed between her walls and cable-thick veins as she was filled to the brim with Casimir's bitter juices. And yet he didn't stop, continuously, desperately thrusting, churning the Prince's vile sludge deeper and deeper, until it was practically overflowing from her abused sphincter and trailing down the outer lips of her drooling slit.

It was only moments after the apex of Casimir's climax had ended that he would finally slow his pace, before finally removing himself from the Princess completely.

At first, he did not speak, instead basking in the afterglow of the Princess' ruin. He had been left panting, the beads of sweat cascading down his forehead before dribbling upon the Princess' back.

"This is just the beginning. The next time you resist me, I will hurt you more." Though he had intended it to be a threat, deep down, it was a challenge. One that he hoped that the Princess would rise to. After all, he didn't want her breaking so easily.

"But until then, you will sleep." The hand which was still wound upon the back of the Princess' hair soon glowed an otherworldly color, a vibrant crimson red that surged from his arm. No matter how much she would resist, the Princess would find herself lulling into a deep and irresistible slumber. Perhaps, she might have wished he had granted her such a mercy before violating her, but of course, that would have been no fun for her sadistic attacker.

When she would awake the next morning, the Prince would be nowhere to be found...​

 

[Passion]

While she fought and roared with wrath, surely none of this would be forgotten. Seeds within her mind were being planted that her distress didn't allow her to see. She was indeed learning what it meant to stand against him, and she had no idea how haunted she would become. However, that wouldn't easily alter her passion for freedom and independence. She would rule, she would choose her own lover, and she would be a symbol of strength, not fragile femininity. While her resolve rang strong, Casimir's determination and possessive desires resonated at a similar frequency, which risked Nyla's self-righteous dreams.

She wouldn't shut up, so she was silenced by the pillow below her. He had stolen her voice, sight, and breath simply by holding her head in place. With the dullness of some of her senses came the strengthening of the remainders. His words sounded louder than reality, and she could get a better idea of not only how deep he was inside of her but also how her body had molded to his shape. Muffled screams into the pillow that sounded much like humming continued to ring out from the woman, but her constant cries meant the punishment was working. She would have to think twice before getting herself into such a situation again. While she expressed hate, fear was blooming. A fear of him. A fear that could be released if she would just submit, but it was a process, and he was trying to tame the imperial princess, who had a lot to lose.

It all became an intense blur for the woman. The pain and pleasure blazed within her as her body and mind struggled to keep up. She entered an in-between of dissociation from being purely overwhelmed and a state of submission as her instincts knew she was entirely helpless. There wasn't any screaming or fighting that would save her from her punishment. It was hard to tell with her position, but the clear sign of her giving in further was that somehow her lower half untensed in a welcoming manner, despite the fact he slammed into her as if trying to wreck her. Her attempted cries would stop, her body turned limp with weakness and defeat as he brutalized her beyond her inexperienced comprehension.

She had grown so used to the suffocating darkness that she forgot she even needed to breathe until her head was pulled up. Once it was, she was left gasping for lost air. Now, without her primal screams, the broken princess could just whimper when he verbally claimed her. While she had no desire to be owned, this was especially true with the prince since Casimir proved himself to be quite a monster if he didn't get his way.

She would learn. ​

A slightly comforting warmth coated her aching depth, and she was slow to realize that he had just hit his climax within her. Marking her with his thick seed and filling that already tight and struggling hole to the brim. Her body twitched, and she let out an innate moan of satisfaction as he let her get a vivid feel of the mess he made within her. Nyla wouldn't be able to make sense of her pleasure due to her innocence and the cruel tone of the night, but he managed to touch on her femininity once more, exposing the fact that she enjoyed being filled his seed.

"Ne-next time...?" She echoed in a frightened tone. A final round of tears blurred her vision at the mere thought of going through this hell again.

No, there couldn't be a next time, not... like this.

She sobbed between panting breaths; clearly, the princess had lost her grip. However, Nyla was known to be the type to get back up to her feet. Just like in her duels, she wouldn't let a defeat stop her. To lose a battle did not mean she lost the war.

All would fade to black, Nyla assuming the mental and physical trauma had finally knocked her out. Finally, she found some peace... or would she?

Now locked in her mind, he had snaked his way into her dreams.

---

When she woke, the first thing she noticed was the morning sun... and how the view was different from her room. Wait, she wasn't in her room.

The princess jolted up to see that the possessed prince was nowhere to be found. After that realization came the next; she hugged her center and winced. Her punishment had left her unbelievably sore. Her pain also suggested that yesterday was more than just a fever dream; all the horrors the night brought were real. Now wasn't the time to process it. She needed to get the fuck out of here just in case Casimir had slipped out for just a moment.

Slipping out of bed, she whined as it felt like her legs were ready to give in, but she was determined to leave while she could. She found her damaged dress and proceeded to tie it around her to at least cover her form. There was a bit of a walk to her room on the top floor, but tattered clothes would be the least of the academy's worries.

After finding her heels and wrapping around her dress similar to a toga, the princess dashed out of the prince's chambers. It appeared she slept in some; the hall wasn't too crowded, although those she crossed gave her a look over. Ever since the slaughter last night, the princess has been said to be missing. bruised and mentally scarred, but she was very much alive.

The top floor was reserved for her Order, the Golden Dragons. Her closest comrades and admirers made up the order that was distraught to see the princess looking so disheveled.

A woman similar in age to Nyla would approach the princess, who had just stumbled up the stairs. "Are you alright, my lady? Do you need a medic?" The woman had short brown hair and a patch of a golden dragon on her black capelet.

Nyla shook her head. "No, and it is best that no one worries about me. I'm aware a handful of knights perished last night. That should be our top concern."

The knight frowned. "Zamir didn't make it..."

The princess' heart dropped, and she felt sick to her stomach. "Wha-... no." Zamir was a fine and loyal knight, one that many had much respect for. A comrade that Nyla trusted deeply. If Zamir had known what she had gone through, he would have been after Casimir's head. "He was too skilled to fall. He..."

The fellow Golden Dragon's eyes watered as well. "I know... but it is true, your highness. We believe he was one of the first to fall; he had no idea."

Everyone had their guards down; it was a terrible attack. Nyla's mind blanked out, similar to how it did during the peak of her assault. "I need some time..." Without another word, Nyla headed down the long hall to where her chambers were located, fighting through the pain to fake a walk of elegance and strength around those who looked up at her.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
​

Nyla sank into the flowered water of her bathtub, unable to wash or cry away all the sins Casimir left on her. Her rosy and blue flesh, the lingering pain, and the vivid memories would need time to mend, although she expected the latter to be the most lengthy.

Next... time...​

No, there couldn't be a next time. She couldn't go through that again, and Casimir shouldn't get away with such an act of treason.

Logically, it made sense to report him. Surely, with her title, she could have him face his own harsh punishment, but... how could she even speak about what had been done? Even if she could, how would her father or anyone who caught wind of it handle such news? Not only didn't she want others to know that she took part in such an embarrassing act, but it was pitiful that she was unable to defend herself. Yes, she was a woman, but she was a fighter too. She wasn't meant to be like the typical dainty women of the empire, and yet Casimir managed to pluck her and crush her like a flower.

Nyla had to prove herself as a leader, and so she had to handle this on her own.

This was her burden and their secret.

 

[Saint]

As the Princess attempted to wash away the nefarious atrocities that had been committed upon her, a terse knock would eventually reverberate upon her door. The solemn knock would be accompanied by a familiar voice: one which belonged to one of the Knights within her order. "Lady Nyla, the school faculty is summoning the entire student body in the assembly room." The man remarked, giving brief pause before continuing. "I've instructed the servants to lay out your uniform— but I suggest that you not take too long. I am sure it's quite urgent, given the circumstances." With that, the man marched away, the clatter of his metal boots audible through the closed doorway.

​

It wouldn't be long thereafter that the assembly room was bursting with the clamor of students and faculty alike. Many of the students had trickled in over the course of the hour, some in their military uniforms, while others clad in their armor and swords. Nobody could have blamed those with weapons for taking such precautions, as it had been in those same, exact halls that the tragedy had occurred. Tensions in the room were boiling into an all-time high, as students attempted to find blame in the tragedy among their fellow peers. Yet, it was clear that nobody had any idea what was going on.

While the Prince that Nyla loathed was nowhere to be seen among the crowd, she would manage to instead catch the glimpse of an even worse sight. It was the very man that had been her date the evening before— the kind and noble knight that she had admired and even preferred to the obsessive Prince. His handsome features were now covered beneath a mess of bandages, though she would still be able to see his gaze piercing from between them. He glared at her with spiteful, cerulean eyes, as if he blamed her for what had happened to him. IF Nyla would decide to keep extended eye contact, he would scoff, turning his gaze away from her.

At the very least, it seemed that he hadn't told anyone about the medallions that he had found, which might have linked the Princess' family to the terrorist attack.

"It was the goddamned Azure Serpents! Their people are still upset over their conquest thirty years ago and wished to see us punished!" A student shrilled, pointing over towards another group.

"If we wanted to kill Imperial Scum, we would have done so without masks, so that you could see who took your life." The other student spat. "We may not be fond of the Empire, but we stand by our oaths, which is more than we could say for some people."

"That's enough!" A voice boomed from beyond. Elevated above the room of squabbling future-lords and ladies, the Headmistress herself towered beyond. Like the Princess, she possessed long, raven hair with strands of rogue greys. Her aged features might have seen unimposing at first glance, but the fire in her eyes commanded respect. Indeed, every student in the Academy had grown up with stories about Lady Minerva of House Grimmwald. Even in all of his strength and skill, not even Prince Casimir would have stood a chance against the Lightning Countess.

"There will be no more squabbling. You are nobles. Start acting like it!" The woman growled, flanked on either side by her companions. "What happened last night was a tragedy. For enemies of the Empire to find us at our weakest moment— it is clear that conflict is brewing." She paused, crossing her arms across her chest before beaming down upon the students once more. "Until we figure out who is responsible for these attacks, classes and coursework will be doubled. Security will be increased to match— and there will be a curfew to ensure nobody roams the halls at night."

The students murmured amongst one another. More classes? After they had just been attacked?

"If our enemies could strike us here, then it is clear that we are in danger. Any day now, the Empire could find itself at war again— and it will be you students that will be on the frontlines... leading our people. And without capable leaders, we will lose everything." Soon, her feet clattered together, one hand reaching behind her back while the other rose upwards into a salute. Though it seemed as if she was looking into the crowd, her determined gaze seemed to pick out one, specific person in the crowd: Nyla.

"Vivat Imperium. Long live the Empire." At the same moment, the students within the crowd followed suit, the sounds of a thousand heels clattering together as each one firmly saluted and repeated the phrase in kind.

As the chanting died down, the Headmistress would disappear out of view, replaced by another teacher of similar renown. "Today, the students will participate in a mock battle. At noon, the students will make their way to the courtyard and will be divided into two teams, based on the Orders they are currently registered with. Each team will battle for possession of the other team's flag. Each student will be ranked on their martial prowess, with bonus points awarded to those who show leadership skills. Rankings will be published by the evening."

"Now, return to your rooms and gather your equipment. Anyone who is late will not be granted a score and will be punished accordingly." As the assembly concluded, the students began to remove themselves from the room, while the students from the Golden Dragon approached Nyla.

"It's a shame we won't have Zamir for this... he was one of the best fighters we had." One of the female knights sighed,

"Yeah— I just know they're going to put us up against those Crimson Lion assholes, too." Another one of Nyla's companions remarked in response, "Gods, what I wouldn't give to knock that stupid smirk across that Prince Casimir's face. That cocky bastard is probably already thinking about how he wants to humiliate us."

The female knight shook her head, "Why did the Gods granted such strength to such a man, I will never know." She would then turn to the Princess, "And even if we get put on the same team, that'd be worse— right? Ugh, I can't even imagine having to take orders from him."

"It's alright! Once we get there, Prince or not, I'll be sure to punch that kid in the face if he so much as looks in our direction wrong."

"Speaking of alright... your Highness, are you alright? You don't look well. Did you get enough sleep last night?"

 

[Passion]

"Alright, I won't be long!"​

Dammit.​

Nyla leaned her head back against the tub as she took a shaken breath. The last thing she wanted to do was rush. She desperately needed to gather her thoughts and try to recover after such a mentally and physically taxing day, but she wouldn't have such a simple luxury. She was the empress—an example, a leader, a sign of hope, and the last thing she wanted to do was raise suspicion. Her eyes closed, and her lower lip trembled. If only she could have a healing cry in privacy.

Her eyes flashed back open. "Shape up, Nyla," she mumbled to herself. She had to be strong.​

---

Nyla presented herself with an air of confidence and royalty while dressed in deep black accented by gold. It was something most could sense and couldn't help but respect. It wasn't just her birthright, but Nyla did try to carry her weight as the imperial princess. She had to if she wanted to be taken seriously as a stand-alone empress, especially if she planned to one day overturn her father's rule. Despite her torment and lingering pain, she kept her posture straight and her mask of power on. Deep down, it felt strange after being violated, emotional, and defeated, but she knew everyone was looking at her to make a stand, to be a proper representation of their sick emperor in a time of need.

She heard the chaotic debate followed by the booming words of the headmistress right before she walked into the assembly hall. It would take a moment to be noticed, but she would see Mauve across the room. Her hands curled up into fists when she noticed the bandages, but even though her heart dropped for him, she could see his disgust for her. His glare made her feel sick to her stomach. He still thought she was somehow responsible for all this? If only he knew the truth regarding how clueless she was. How she had suffered as well last night.​

What would he think if he knew?
Whore.​

Despite the fact that she fought the entire time, she felt guilty for the depravity that took place. She felt so impure just to be touched by the prince that she felt like Mauve's cold look was because somehow he knew. Logically, she knew he didn't, but the shame and trauma of it all had left lasting scars. While she was being abused, she was sure that Casimir would be punished, but the morning after, she was finding herself more and more tongue-tied at the thought of speaking the unsavory truth.​

I should have been stronger to fend him off.
I can't allow myself to be so weak.​

While she battled intrusive thoughts, her arrival was noticed and announced. An honest smile painted her face at the salute. It was refreshing to see how she still had the hearts of many after the treason she faced.​

Next time.
Next time, I'll punish him myself if I have to.
He will NOT take this from me.​

Nyla held her breath until the attention moved away from her. It was announced that there would be more work, a curfew, and heightened security. There would also be mock battles at noon, which again left very little time for Nyla for herself. Despite the fact that she was sore inside and out, she would need to battle. She wondered if she could slip in a nap, but the chances were unlikely. After the massacre, surely plenty wanted her opinion or would feel better just having her around. She needed to stay on her toes.

Her attention shifted to her comrades as they spoke. Then mention of Zamir made her blood run cold; she still had a hard time accepting that he had perished. It would be a difficult memorial to attend. Her dark eyes looked down in respect for their fallen friend. Indeed, it would be hard for the Golden Dragon to battle without him, but there were still plenty of strong knights on her side. The motive of the Golden Dragon was either tied to their love of the empire, or what the dragon stood for; prosperity, wisdom, and power.

"Like the tension between orders isn't high enough." There was enough drama; did the shocked noble knights really need a reason to clash more? Yet, maybe the academy was thinking this could be a good chance for certain orders to mend their differences, but why risk it?

On a normal day, she would be unhappy to be paired with the Crimson Lion, but the idea of seeing Casimir right now made her feel sick. How could she face him and not slap him or start sobbing? Well, she wouldn't. She cared about her social standing and how others perceived her, as it was more than important for a woman in Nyla's position.

"Let's not start fires unless it is necessary. We aren't aggressive fools like the Lions. We will lead by example. We do not need to lower ourselves to their disgraceful levels." Nyla gritted her teeth but stopped herself once she caught it. Her spite towards prince also deepened her dislike for his order that was lead my a monster.

Nyla was a tad surprised when her appearance was questioned. Yeah, she was in a bit of a rush, but did she not hide her fatigue and pain enough? It made her paranoid, leaving her wondering who else could smell her weakness. She found herself still feeling vulnerable.

"I question anyone who got enough peaceful sleep last night." Her eyes locked onto hers. Anyone with a heart had to be mourning or concerned. She couldn't be the only one feeling exhausted, although the depths of Nyla's exhaustion far extended a bad night of sleep.​

---

At the courtyard, Nyla would appear in armored gear with a few members of her order beside her; the rest had already gathered. She would search the crowd, looking for anyone who might have gone missing, and to keep an eye on Casimir. Even in public, she could not trust the man, and so the princess knew it was important to keep an eye on her enemy, or she may be victimized once more.​

Next time.
No, I won't allow it.​

She took a breath of fresh air. Hopefully, after all this was done, Nyla would have her chance to rest and meditate on all that had happened, although she knew there were planted demons in her mind waiting for her.​

 

[Saint]

Within the corridors of the academy, away from the prying, gossiping eyes of his fellow students, a silhouette pressed himself upon the nearest wall. The Prince was sweating, his once strong gaze blurred and fading. Again and again, flashbacks of the previous night emerged into the Prince's gaze. Those screams and wanton whimpers of the beleaguered Princess reverberated within his ears— the sensations of Nyla's complete and utter violation filling his mind as he recounted exactly what he had done to her that night.

"Get out of my head." The Prince growled with abated breath, a single hand clawed upon the hard, vertical wall beside him, the other wrangling its way through raven locks. "This is my body...!"

'I gave you what you wanted, did I not?
I know how you desire her.
So I claimed her, for you.
For us.'​

The Prince could hear that voice pounding in his mind more violently now, his consciousness practically slipping away as the accursed creature that dwelled within him sought to once more break free. He remembered every moment of the previous night— and he would never forgive the creature from taking what should have been his. "There is no us... and she was not yours to take." Casimir gasped, his powerful stance now buckling underneath his own weight. "She was supposed to be mine."

'If there is no us, then perhaps I should rescind your power.
Or did you forget?'
​

Suddenly, Casimir could feel the heat beginning to rise in his chest. The closed wound from where he had been stabbed the night before burned red hot, as if the blade was piercing his chest once again. The Prince let out a pained yelp, before falling down to his hands and knees. "Bastard!" Indeed, if it had not been for the demon's intervention, then the Prince would have shared the fate of his peers. Even as he could feel the blade skewering his chest once more, he would not surrender to the voice that wanted so desperately to have control.

'Rejoice, little Prince. Did you not enjoy how we ruined her?
We made her learn the consequences of crossing us.'​

"I would have made her give herself to me— instead, you forced me upon her. " Casimir retorted, "You took it too far."

'You pretend to have some honor, I see. How noble of you.
You cannot fool me, deep down, I know what it is you truly desire. For I can see everything.
You do not crave power. You just want her.
And I know how badly you wanted to rape her, ravage her, make her scream.
I gave that to you—'
​

"Enough!" Casimir slammed the wall, the impact of his fist leaving a noticeable crater in the surface. As he stood back up, a trickle of blood fell from his fist. Finally, it seemed that the voice had dissipated into nothingness. Not because of the Prince's order, but rather the presence of another standing behind him. When Casimir turned, he was faced with one of his subordinates.

"We've been searching for you, sir. There is a mock battle to happen soon— and if you do not show up, I fear that your position will be put into question."

With that, Casimir marched off to fetch his armor and equipment, the demon hidden away for just a moment longer...

---

Just outside of the great architectural expanse of the academy lay the martial grounds, a large, open area from which the students could practice in all forms of warfare. From archery to horsemanship, the facilities were used often by those who would one day become the great conquerors and leaders of the Empire. Within the great courtyard, the entirety of the student body trickled in, forming themselves into large groups once more as they awaited instructions. A melancholic, ominous feeling still possessed the students, the tragedies of the night before still fresh in their minds. Adding to this foreboding aura, dark storm clouds reigned above, blocking out the sun and shrouding its vibrant rays behind an ever-darkening veil.

Above the students was a small stage, where two instructors stood, one of which was wearing a full suit of armor.

"Listen up! The team assignments are on the board." The instructor pointed towards a nearby sign, where a series of parchments had been pinned. "The rules are simple: each team will have a flag hoisted up in one of the forts. Each team must protect their flag from being cut down, while attempting to take down the enemy's." The teacher paused, his hand moving to draw the sword that was sheathed upon his waist.

"These training weapons are imbued with magic. They will not pierce armor, but if you apply enough pressure in your strike..." The teacher turned to the other, before striking him with the blade. Upon hitting him, the armor glowed a temporary shade of red, before causing the wearer to fall to the ground. "It will lock the armored joints in your opponent's platemail, dropping them to the ground and preventing them from being able to move." The teacher explained, "If this happens, you are out of the battle for good."

"Now, grab your weapons. We have shields, longbows, along with long and short swords. Make sure to check your team assignments as well."

As the crowd clamored around the equipment and noticeboards, one of the students would eventually return from the group, "Looks like I was right. Crimson assholes are on the other team. They basically make up the entire team with how big they are." He remarked as he slung his sword across his waist. "Still don't see that cocky Prince of theirs, but I'm sure he's going to lead them. I can't wait to knock him on his feet!" In his excitement, the Knight had practically become lost, staring off into space as he daydreamed about the possibility of defeating the Prince. Maybe the Princess would admire him if he managed to do that— he happily thought in the back of his mind.

"Not much we can do about that. I guess we should just grab our equipment and meet up with our teammates at our base. Hey— are you listening? Another knight smacked his friend, "Sorry, your Highness. We'll be sure he brings his best game to the fight."

---

Eventually, the Golden Dragon would find itself at their base, a blue flag hoisted above wooden walls that protected it on all sides. The walls were about two stories tall, with ladders and ramparts within to allow the defenders to make good use of their positions. At the base, there were other groups of students formed into their own units, though none of them were quite as big as the Princess' own company.

"Looks like it's all of us versus the Crimson Dogs, huh?" A man from another Order remarked, "Since the Golden Dragons are the biggest group here, we'll leave it to you to decide how you want to take this. It looks like we will need a group to attack and a group to defend, so we can take the one you don't want." He explained.

It would be up to Nyla's decision if the Golden Dragons would attack or defend. If she chose to go on the attack, there is a chance that the base would be overrun in her absence, though with the high walls, it seemed like they would be able to handle themselves at least for some time. If she chose to defend, then there would be no chance of the enemy taking the flag without her knowing, but then there was the risk of the rest of the team being wiped out by the enemy.

Of course, there could have been an alternative plan, depending on how the Princess wanted to take control...

 

[Passion]

As of late, Nyla was known for training with a greatsword. It was difficult due to her petite size, but the battle princess aimed to be skilled with as many weapons as she could. However, after everything that happened, she would choose what she was most comfortable with. Picking up and sheathing two short swords across her upper back, her choice alone would get some excited mumbles from those around her. Nyla was not that physically strong, but she knew how to be quick and nimble. Her armor held her back some, but the princess needed to remain safe, and she made slight adjustments to her gear to improve her mobility.

"The academy is in desperate need of peers to look up to. Those peers will be us." She was meant to lead, and so she planned to do exactly that. There was no one better than the only child of the emperor. After seeing what she believed were Casimir's true colors, he shouldn't even be here. He should be expelled and thrown into a slum's prison. Huh, was Casimir even here? He was rather good at making sure his presence was known, but Nyla didn't see him. Did he wake up fearing her scorn? If not, he should. She had no plans on ever forgiving the man she now hated on a deep and personal level.

Ryn, an athletic-built man with long and pale blonde hair who led the order of the Silver Wolf, approached the princess. "Guess we have the honor of helping out the Golden Dragon again." The small order was a group of loners, but when they worked together as one, they packed quite the punch. "It is always an honor to help out the great Princess Nyla herself." They were also fiercely loyal, and so they were another order that favored the leaders of the empire.

Nyla would give the man a nod of respect. "It is always a pleasure working with the Silver Wolf. I know you are used to taking the lead for your pack, but I think we can find a middle ground. I ask of you to take my general orders with the promise I'll give your pack its rightful freedom." She knew they hated taking orders from outsiders, but they both knew how to compromise.

The man grinned before hopping in place to balance out the heavy, greatsword on his back. "Fair. This is exactly why you will be a great empress one day." Nyla was considerate and focused on others' strengths and weaknesses to see the whole picture. She didn't need to strip others of their egos to lead.

With the agreement, Nyla was feeling a bit more confident. If they weren't going to win, they needed to at least raise hell trying. As determined as she was to not only win but put on a good show, Nyla was still fatigued. She had to be wise with the little true energy she had left. So, despite not having a long-range weapon, Nyla took her position on top of the towering fort near the flag. Her position gave her a bird's-eye view and would allow her booming and commanding voice to be heard.

It looked like the opposite team had a similar setup, which gave Nyla a tactical vision. She would raise her voice loud enough that all in the general area could hear her, but not their foes. "Wolves, work together and charge center! Immobilize as many as you can!" She then gestured a hand to her sides and commanded, "Dragons on the lower left and right, push ahead and support the wolves! Take care of any stragglers on the side and make your way to their base! - Dragons lower center, spread out along the base of the fort to defend. Dragons elevated with me, hold position!"

She would wait for a signal that the battle had started, but all would wait for their princess' command.

"Bring me victory!"​

It felt so good to shout in commanding power, compared to dismay.

Her team would cheer with their spirits revived and would charge in an upside-down V position with the Silver Wolf leading and Nyla standing back with the lingering dragons who lingered at the base of the font at those atop, watching and waiting.

No more weakness.
No more humiliation.
No more disgrace.
No more defeat.

I am the future empress!​

 

[Saint]

The resounding shrill of a horn far off in the distance would signal the beginning of the mock battle, with the knights underneath Princess Nyla taking off in their ordered formations. Already, the first droplets of rain began to trickle down from the ominous clouds that lulled above, pattering against the grass and upon silver armor. The heavy, rhythmic march of steel boots clattered against the dirt as the vanguard of Nyla's forces advanced in their reverse-arrowhead formation, the enemy still out of sight from her troops.

"Your orders, sir?" A Crimson Lion soldier turned towards his commander, who peered onwards towards what looked like marching ants out in the distance. Unlike Nyla, Casimir had taken a handful of men and rushed to a forested position... and underneath the shade of an oak tree, he observed the enemy. "Their formation... it looks a bit unconventional, does the Princess have any idea what she's doing?"

"A reverse-chevron." Casimir mused softly as he held a small, telescope spectacle to one eye. "Her father used the same movement at the Battle of the Elysian Fields." Whether it was a formation that she had actively studied, or a complete coincidence, Casimir couldn't say for certain. All that he knew was that was the formation that had cracked his family's army, when the Emperor defeated his father and his Kingdom was forced to swear their fealty to him. "The large gap in the center of the formation is a trap, funneling troops into the center before surrounding them."

Casimir turned towards his men, "Signal the archers to press first. The formation cannot move quickly, pepper them with arrows until it falls apart." Immediately, one of the soldiers rose from his position, before waving a pair of colored flags in the air. The Crimson Lions were no strangers to battle— and they planned to show it.

"Archers... advance!" On his orders, the lines of the Crimson Lions began to advance, cresting over the nearby hill to reveal themselves to the advancing enemy. "Nook!" The archers strung arrows into their bows, each arrowhead carrying the same magic was the other training weapons. From their positions, they raised their bows into the air. "Loose!" On command, the archers released their bows, a wave of arrows hurling into the air before descending upon the blue team. The missiles pelted the formation, causing some of the first of Nyla's troops to fall as their armor paralyzed them in place.

"Shields up! Keep moving! Don't break formation! For the future Empress!" One of Nyla's commanders shouted. Contrary to what the Crimson Lions might have believed, the Golden Dragon would be nothing to joke about. Her men were disciplined, skilled, fearless— and many would be called upon to join her Royal Guard one day. They would not crack so quickly.

"They're not breaking." Casimir mused softly to himself as he watched the battle from afar.

"Sir, look! The archers!" His flagbearer pointed out. Casimir turned his attention back to the archers, who were suddenly being engaged by a smaller group of swordsmen. Many of them were cut down as the Silver Wolves fell upon them ferociously. It seemed that Nyla had been one step ahead of him this entire time, allowing the group of loners to spring their own, unconventional trap.

"Damnit. Order the knights forward. The rest of you with me!"

"The Wolves have them! Everyone, charge!" It wouldn't be long until the battle devolved into chaos as lines crashed against one another. Casimir soon found himself in the thick of it, swinging his longsword across the air as he struck down whoever sought to face him. Although larger in number and more organized, it was quite obvious that the Crimson Lions were not as skilled in combat to their Golden Dragon counterparts. Each member of the Golden Dragon came from accomplished knightly families, some of which were legendary in name. It was such prowess that made the heart of the Empire, and how his people had been conquered not so long ago.

Yet, even in the face of defeat, Casimir fought with all of the ferocity of a cornered Lion. Unmatched with the sword, Casimir had once held a reputation of being undefeatable. He had to be... because that was what was expected of him.

"Sir, we have to retreat, back to the fort!" His bodyguard shouted, "If we can get back, we can organize a counter— GAAH!" The man fell as he was struck against the side of his breastplate. The troops were in disarray, locked in combat as the losses continued to mount.

Casimir had no choice left, he had to break through the enemy line and make it to the enemy fort. If they could take the flag down, then perhaps he could snatch victory from the clutches of defeat. He had to win. Everything he had worked for was hinging on this moment.

"Infantry, hold your ground! Knights, with me!" What was left of his bodyguard came to Casimir's side, the group dashing from the fight and towards the fort that Nyla was still defending.

 

[Passion]

Rushing came with consequences; she didn't need to be on the front lines to know that a line of her team was sacrificed. She hoped that at least everyone who was disqualified took one or two of their foes down with them. The princess remained confident in her bold actions despite the risks. Her father was also a brash tactician, although there were even more aggressive leaders than the Helian family.

Nyla had no plans on moving. She was still exhausted from her assault, and she personally would stand in the way of defeat; anyone who managed to get up the fort would need to go through her first to get the flag. She stood there, her posture straight, and remained near a few wooden beams, making her a slightly difficult target to hit by ranged attacks. She kept her arms loose, ready to draw one of her short swords at commendable speeds to attack or defend.

Those who ran out continued to charge with the princess' command in their hearts and minds. Everyone felt pent-up in some way after the bloodbath of many comrades. They were all itching to punish something or someone for the crimes. The magic prevented anyone from becoming seriously hurt, but it did not quell the embers in the knights. The Silver Wolf pushed the front line, screaming and cheering in unison, and the dragons on the side did their best to dodge arrows to climb up the fort with tunnel vision for the Crimson Lion's flag. They knew whoever got it the princess would look fondly at, which motivated them even more. There was clear distress by those forced out by immobilization; desperately, they wanted to break through it to keep on fighting for Nyla and the Dragons. At least it showed they had the right fire to one day become royal guards or admirable warlords.

The misty rain coated their mock battlefield; it was refreshing as adrenaline continued to pump on both sides. The gray clouds overhead looked like they were on the cusp of a downpour, but some rain wouldn't deter the students. However, when she had gotten a glimpse of the prince below, her entire body tensed and grew hot. Hot with hate, anger, and instilled fear. The latter made her feel sick. As a future empress, she should not fear, especially those who were meant to respect her.

Only the gods would know what hell I'd inflict if I got my hands on that bastard.
​

She took a breath. She needed to get rid of this hate since beating up a prince would not help her reputation much. She had to be the bigger person, but it was so hard after all he had done to her body and mind.

Nyla threw out an arm, her voice booming in the chilled wind of the impending storm. "Ready, aim.... and..." Her own archers, who lingered near the top of the fort with her, aimed with their bows drawn. "FIRE!" With that said, arrows would rain upon Casimir, his bodyguard, and anyone else who had gotten too close to comfort. At least 30 arrows that covered the area of the left, right, front, and back of him would try to tag him and the others 'out'.

While there were some foot soldiers at the base who would also rush in if they managed to get too close, Nyla's fort was slim of defense; most of her knights were raiding the other team's force, but Nyla had strict control over those who remained, and she would personally see that her fort was protected. Too much of her ego was on the line for her to even trust others with such an act. If anyone was to get near Nyla, she would tap into her reserved energy to try to swiftly handle the opposing team.

[Last post due to pacing issues.]​