𝔼𝕍𝔼ℝ𝕎𝕀ℕ𝕋𝔼ℝ ✧ 𝕂ℕ𝕀𝔾ℍ𝕋𝕊 ; [ ᴘᴀssɪᴏɴ ✟ sᴀɪɴᴛ ]

Saint · Jul 8, 2023

𝔼𝕍𝔼ℝ𝕎𝕀ℕ𝕋𝔼ℝ ✧ 𝕂ℕ𝕀𝔾ℍ𝕋𝕊
heavy belies the crown

𝔸𝕄𝕆ℝ 𝔼𝕋 𝔹𝔼𝕃𝕃𝕌𝕄

The Aenerian Military Academy, Everwinter

@Passion + @Saint

𝕍𝕀ℕ𝔻𝔼𝕏 𝕊ℙ𝕆𝕀𝕃𝔸 𝕀ℝ𝔼

The bitter clash of steel and fates resounded throughout a green courtyard as a wavering sun began its descent among the peaks of western mountains. Underneath the shade of grand oak trees and between the leers of onlookers, two silhouettes danced brutishly, striking one another with the edges of their blunt practice swords. Although the duelists' identities were shrouded beneath metal helmets, one could have easily identified the challengers by the colors and symbols emblazoned proudly upon their breastplates. Clad in silver armor that glimmered underneath the sun's waning rays, the sigil of the fearsome Crimson Lion marked none other than the esteemed Prince Casimir d' Lyonesse, the heir to the Royal Kingdom of Emmeria.

The armored Prince Casimir stood a full head taller than his opponent, casting a shadow upon them as the two vigorously pounced upon one another. Steel blades clanged and sparked as beads of sweat cascaded down the side of the Lion's mane, the boil of frustration brewing within the hot-headed Prince. So easily in previous duels had Casimir defeated this opponent, but it was clear in their movements that they had improved— significantly at that. Again, as the pair danced beneath the gazes of their peers, Casimir attempted to strike at what appeared to be an opening in his rival's defense, only to be parried and met with a skilled riposte. It didn't take a seasoned duelist to see that the Prince had fallen on the backfoot, that he was on the very precipice of defeat; a feeling that he had never once felt before.

Unleash me.

The words swelled within his blackened heart, inaudible to those around him. The voice beseeched him; and while he knew that submitting himself to its carnal command would have brought him certain victory, he dared not unleash whatever powers slithered within his noble blood. And yet, without relying upon such power, the Lion could begin to see the prospect of defeat begin to emerge. What would his father, the King think? What of his countrymen, who expected everything of their Prince?

Release me— and I will make her yours. I will corrupt her and...

The Prince lashed out at his opponent once more, his ferocious growl silencing the voice that sowed chaos within his thoughts. That feral battlecry that emanated from within his helmet telegraphed his attack, giving his opponent enough time to react. He would charge forth, his vigorous strike skillfully blocked by his opponent once again. His blade clattered against her own, flying out of his hands and into the air, before unceremoniously wedging itself into the dirt. Yet, knocking the blade from his hands would fail to stop the assault and soon, Casimir would fall upon his rival, pushing her off balance and sending her toppling down into the ground. Before she would be able to recover, the towering man would crawl atop her, pinning her sword arm down and simultaneously placing his knee upon her other arm so that she would be unable to resist.

"When will you learn, little Princess?" That familiar, deep voice cooed as his free hand rose to remove his helmet and discard it to his side. The Prince's voice was solemn, yet commanding,"No matter how much you fight, or struggle, or scream—" the raven-haired Prince paused, his hand now reaching to lift the Princess' own helmet from her face. "You will belong to me."

There was no question that Casimir had once again emerged as the victor of their duel. The all too familiar sounds of applause and gossip soon emerged from the crowd, ambitious noblemen seething amongst one another in hushed whispers as jealous ladies swooned and wished they could have shared such closeness with the infamous Prince. Such opinions meant little to Casimir, for his fixations were only upon the Princess who continued to defy him.

"Do not worry, I will happily be the one to teach you your place." After removing her helmet from the Princess' face, his hand slowly began to caress the side of her cheek, "And you will learn to obey." That hand that gently brushed the side of her cheek now plunged downwards towards her neckline, before those powerful, masculine digits found themselves pressing upon her dainty windpipe. Those fingers that captured her throat tightened ever so slightly, until the Prince would be able to hear the symphonic crackle that graced choking vocal chords. "Go on, little Princess... scream for me. Let me hear how badly you want to best me. Tell me how much you loathe me."

Carefully, the hand that kept her sword pinned to the ground pried the hilt free from her fingers, before tossing the weapon out of her reach. The hand then made its way behind his back, before revealing a dark object from behind. "Do you remember our agreement? If you lost, you would wear this..." Soon, the ironclad grip upon the Princess' throat loosened, a dark, leather collar soon replacing it. Pulling it through the silver loop, the Prince tightened it just enough that it would bite against her flesh. "One day, we will be bound with rings. Until then? I figured you could use something that you cannot lose." The Prince cackled mischievously as his devilish gaze admired his hard-fought handiwork.

Deviant lips edged downwards, before a soft whisper drew out from beneath the Prince's lips, "Next time you decide to fight me, I will take something far worse from you."

Passion · Jul 9, 2023

Father, haven't I proven myself as your daughter?

Sadness, bitterness, and fear gripped the battle princess since the end of last winter. She found herself unable to bloom as beautifully with the spring, unlike her peers. Such murky emotions she kept to herself. Bottling them up unworried about the consequences of doing so. No one would see her shed a single tear regarding the news and the events the followed regarding the unwell emperor who had been spending more and more of his time in his chambers. With the mindset of a leader and a knight, she refused to let anyone see her personal vulnerabilities. Despite exercising inner strength, it did not stop the same questions that haunted her mind in sleep, class, and battle...

Father, do you think I'm not good enough? Why can't you see I'd be a great empress?

Such questions, she didn't have the heart to ask her sickly father. Being his offspring or not, it was improper to question the rule of the Golden Emperor, Vylan Helian. However, he knew how hard his daughter, Nyla trained and how committed she was to Aenerian. It didn't make any sense from her point of view why the Vindex Spolia Ire was called which left the emperor's only child's fate on the line.

Do you not think I can handle it? Do you think I need a man? Do you not care if I'm happy with who I wed?

So many questions... Every time she visited her father in his plush bed filled with golden accents, her heartache for answers she would not easily receive. Her only solace was knowing what she must do. There was only one way she could follow the law of her father and take control of her fate once more... She would become the Vindex, win her own hand in marriage.

I will be an worthy Empress, father. Alone or with the man I chose. I am not a reward.

Her mind was almost always on fire regarding her father, yet Nyla became a woman of few words in the academy. Her tongue was tied by the situation she found herself in, While she always had followers and admirers, now the gazes of awe were much darker. Many powerful knights began to look at her like a prized doll to be won, and she would have to defeat anyone who got close to the title of Vindex. She would fight, and she would conquer anyone who stood in her way. She was confident in handling most of them, other than one.

Prince Casimir.

As a rival, he was always a bit of a headache to deal with. They didn't spend too much time getting to know each other, but the knights were near evenly matched to the point their Orders often clashed in reflection of their tension. Nyla, the leader of the lucky and mystical Golden Dragon, had earned her position not just for being the daughter of the emperor, but with her skills as a knight. While the rivalry offered them both motivation to grow as fighters and leaders, it had taken a much darker turn as of late. Prince Casimir saw a chance to not only become an emperor, but to take the battle princess for himself. She had no idea how passionate he was about having her as his own until it was all out on the table. Their rivalry turning even more passionate as they both were fighting for opposite futures.

Since the news, Nyla's skills had greatly improved. It wasn't just the extra training, but she put much more heart into her blade. Even so, she wasn't the only one. The prince came with an untamed fire that threatened her own. While she wasn't as strong as many of her male counterparts, her skills were in speed, wisdom, and good instinct. However, the princess' stamina was quickly draining from countering some of his powerful blows. It was a sigh of relief when she managed to send his sword flying, but her foe would take advantage of her declining stamina. Her armor was already starting to feel like she was carrying bricks, and it caused her to tumble back to the ground in a moment of exhaustion... but that was all he needed, a moment.

"Get off of me and hold your tongue!" She had no say on the latter. When it came to the duel, her desired prize was rather simple. He'd shut up for the next week about wedding her and claiming her. It not only annoyed her, but every time he said it, it caused distress in her that she struggled to bottle up. She already was always thinking about her sick father and losing control of her fate, but the prince, indirectly or not, was always there to remind her of everything that was on the line and that he was a very real threat. She already knew there was no talking to him. He wouldn't pity her and stop his campaign of attempting to claim her. He didn't just want the power, she could tell he was enjoying the fight too much. Their rivalry boiled over to new heights.

Nyla's body twisted under Casimir, attempting to find a route to escape, but her smaller and tired body made it futile. Her helmet was removed to reveal her face reddened with activity and glowing with a thin layer of sweat. However, what was most noticeable was her eyes. They were burning in spite not just towards the prince, but the whole situation. The princess' bitterness had been extreme since her father's decree. There was little peace in the woman these days; she was fighting for her freedom.

Her golden brown eyes widened when she felt his strong hand along her slender throat. She knew he wouldn't kill her. He was the type that liked to play with his prey and he would need her alive to make a wife out of her. Still, it did not stop the alarm bells from going off in her head, and actually gave her a moment to escape her bitterness to instead be worried about breath. While she was stunned, he stripped her of her sword, but her hand found his forearm and she squeezed it tight and attempted to yank his arm away from her.

Her voice was weak and reduced to a whisper, "I... I hate you because... you know me." She couldn't explain while nearly breathless, but what she meant was that the prince knew how hard she worked and how seriously she took the academy. He knew since the beginning even before her father was announced ill that she wanted to make a name for herself. At first, many laughed at the thought, but Nyla proved herself. Most didn't stand a chance against her, and if she lose, she always put up a good fight.

It was nothing short of a cruel fate for her to be reduced to a role of an obedient wife. It was insulting to her, and Casimir would only make it worse by cementing the idea in stone by having her risk wearing a collar like some kind of slave or pet of his... Nyla took up the offer since she knew a little collar wouldn't hurt her and she trusted her skills to bring her to victory... but now that she lay there under him as he secured it on her, she now would have a physical reminder of the fate she had been fighting so hard to escape. It would only become even more mentally taxing on her.

Despite her defeat, the fire in her eyes was not snuffed out. "The next time we duel, you will be removing this collar from my neck and begging me for forgiveness for even putting it on me!" Her voice shook in wrath; it was the most emotion the princess showed in some time as she appeared apathetic to most other than in battle. It was often much easier to turn 'off' than face this chaotic life, but she could feel all that fire inside of her surfacing as soon as she looked into the prince's eyes or heard his bold words. At least she had a face to vent some of her angst.

@Saint

Saint · Jul 13, 2023

As with most of their duels, the Princess' fresh defeat was quickly accompanied by a seemingly endless tirade of venomous vitriol. Such unbridled anger might have brought a mischievous grimace to her cunning opponent's face, for Casimir had always enjoyed Nyla's impetuous and hot-headed temperament. The thought of taming the strong Princess had always been the object of his fixations. This time, however, his usually cocky attitude had been replaced by the twangs of flustered frustration. Though he stood as the victor, the closeness at which Nyla came to earning her freedom annoyed him. She had certainly improved in such a short span of time... and it was worrying.

"Already thinking about our next duel, are you?" Casimir retorted, hiding his frustration as he bit at his lower lip. He drove his face closer, hovering dangerously close to his reluctant fiancée's portrait. "You just can't wait to lose to me again." He cooed, his warm exhalations drawing from his lips as lips edged mere inches away from one another.

The Lion's fingertips gently touched the Princess' neck, trailing across that leather gift which shackled her neck. At its center, it bore the Prince's sigil of a red lion, as if he was trying to mark Nyla as his property. Whether she liked it or not, that was basically what she had become. Once her father passes, her fate would be sealed. She would have no choice but to marry him.

"I will defeat you as many times as your heart desires, Nyla." The Prince's hand slowly trailed away from her dainty windpipe, making its way around her center before slowly traveling downwards. "Again and again you will lose— and each time I will take something from you... until you learn your place." His hand descended downwards still, before finding the unarmored section of her exposed thigh. First he caressed the skin, fingertips gently rolling across milky flesh. Soon, however, those powerful, calloused fingertips greedily sunk themselves into her glistening skin.

"You will be—" Casimir's words were cut off by another voice.

"That's enough, Cas. You won." A voice interrupted from behind. "Now release the Princess." The man that interrupted the pair bore the sigil of the Blue Eagle, an order that had long rivaled the the Crimson Lions. Of the Orders at the Academy, they were a close second in size.

"Mauve." Casimir remarked, deigning not to even look in his rival's direction, "Did you come here to lose against me, or are you just here to run your mouth?"

The blonde man chuckled, "The latter, of course. It would be unchivalrous to beat you in your current..." He glanced over Casimir's armor, which was dirtied by the ensuing duel, "Well, what can we expect from a Lion. An Emmerian at that." He sighed, "Now, release our dear Princess, before your father hears about how you've manhandled your future Queen. Just imagine how upset he would be, if you harmed your chances of carrying his bloodline to the Imperial Throne. He wouldn't be happy, I'd imagine."

With an annoyed grunt, the Prince removed himself from his victim, standing upright before glaring upon the man that dare interrupt him. "The next time you mention my father... it will be your last. Duel or not." Casimir spat, before pressing his way through the crowd that had been formed around them.

The man that was left with Nyla extended his hand outwards, "What a disgusting, uncouth man." He sighed. "Sometimes, I wonder what the Gods were thinking when they gave him such power." Mauve grinned, "Speaking of which, your Highness." The knight began, brushing his hand through his meticulously groomed locks of gold. "We have the potential to make that man quite upset." He paused for a moment, before leaning inwards, "As you know, there is an evening ball tonight. What do you say about coming with me? Imagine the look on Casimir's face when he's made to turn up alone."

"I can already imagine the look on his face! The Vindex, alone and without a date? It would be peak comedy, would it not?" Mauve cackled at the thought, "So, what do you say?"

Passion · Jul 15, 2023

With her unyielding determination to bend fate to her favor, she wouldn't let Casimir's words or the collar placed around her dampen her spirits. She would be no one's but her own. She would be as free as the mythical dragons that supposedly roamed above the clouds. Even as his face neared hers, she wouldn't blink or flinch. Her fierce gaze challenged him beyond words and action even though he temporarily defeated her body.

While it angered her, her ego as a princess and knight allowed most of Casimir's disheartening words to be brushed off. She still had time to turn everything around. But... how much time? It was uncertain, but Nyla would utilize every second that she had.

"This isn't how one should speak to their future empress!" He would push her further. His strong hand roamed her toned thigh, sinking into her delicate skin due to her choice of armor. She wore lighter and less armor than most since she relied on dexterity. Nyla would twitch and squirm into the ground, clearly growing uncomfortable from being touched while vulnerable. For a moment, she felt like she had fallen prey to the lion.

A familiar voice would pipe in which cut through the tension like a knife. Mauve would have Casimir second guess taunting her further, and as soon as he lifted himself from Nyla, she popped up into a sitting position to gather herself for a moment. She watched the angry leader of the lions storm off leaving Nyla alone with Mauve. While she didn't want to be anyone's prize, she sure hoped if that was to be her fate, it would be to someone more honorable like Mauve. At least he wasn't cocky and didn't look at her like he was ready to pounce on her at any second.

Taking the hand offered to her, Nyla got up to her feet. Her hand would slip away to brush away some of the dirt on her backside. "A tad dangerous to angry the lion more, don't you think?" Her honey-brown eyes flickered over the direction that Casimir left. "I do not fear him, but why invite his hostility?" She paused at the thought of her own questions. Logic told her to not poke the bear, but Casimir had a way of getting under her skin. Maybe it would be a good idea to make a statement. Going to the ball with another would send the message that she was not his even if she was stuck wearing his collar or not.

"Maybe I'm overthinking it. Casimir couldn't be foolish enough to start up anything at the ball." Only a few inches over five feet, the princess would look up at Mauve with a soft but warm smile. "Let us go together. I want to have a good time and try to forget about the duel. He only won since I've been exhausted from training lately." Nyla wasn't much of a sore loser, but she was starting to become more of one with so much on the line. "Meet me at the courtyard at twilight." With that said, Nyla would head back to the dormitory to rest and wash up.

The academy housed many great names, or those who had the potential to become great, and so the academy put on many events to try to keep the knights in training satisfied. Balls, feasts, games, and you name it. While many appreciated the events, everyone was mostly fixated on the traditions behind the duels. There was even more at stake this year with the emperor becoming ill, but even those who weren't after the crown would use duels to try to pave their own paths professional or selfish. Nyla believed events like this summer ball were to redirect the minds of the knights to a much more gentle and elegant event. After all, there was more to a great leader than strength.

As promised, the princess would be waiting around the cobblestone courtyard near a water fountain that stood center. With a breeze, she could feel and smell the light misting of water. It was quite refreshing while standing in the lingering heat from the day as she stood there waiting in her dark dress. Dressed in a plunge black evening gown complimented with familiar gold accents that hinted at her Order and lineage. Her hair was in a loose braid that hung over her shoulder, her black heels high and dripping in gold. Nyla easily looked like royalty outside of her dirty armor. She carried herself with a stern but elegant confidence while she carried the scent of perfumed rose. She looked stunning, but one part of her outfit didn't quite match... the collar.

As a woman of her word, she kept it on, but it didn't stop her from trying to direct attention away from it. She wore a thick gold necklace over it to try to have it blend into the rest of her outfit. She wouldn't wear such an accessory with pride. After all, eyes would be on her this evening. Who she was with, what she was wearing, and so on, and so Nyla would try to remain mindful of this fact. Hopefully, Casimir's inner lion would stay in his den.

Saint · Jul 19, 2023

It had only been a few hours after that passionate duel that the Lion Prince found himself once again in the comfort of his bedchambers. The sun's rays had finally dissipated completely and given way to the glimmering, cerulean shine that peered through the towering, glass windows of the Academy. The young Prince had been settled within his bathtub, his bruised, sore musculature nestled and massaged underneath the embrace of warm waters. Though he wished to bask in such comfort evermore, Casimir eventually stirred from the waters, drying himself with a towel before preparing himself for the evening banquet.

It was after bathing himself from the grime of battle that he began dressing himself in his regalia for the night. He had only managed to slip himself into a dark pair of well-fitted trousers that he would hear a knock reverberate from his door. Casimir's gaze would lazily turn towards the door, not even bothering to put his shirt on before allowing the man to come inside. "It's unlocked," He remarked.

The door would crease open to reveal a younger man, which many would have recognized as one of Casimir's attendants before even remembering their name. The Order of the Crimson Lion was one of the Academy's largest houses, and it went without saying that there were plenty of staff which attended to the Prince and his entourage's every need.

"Your Highness," The man began, "I— I have grave news." He paused for a moment, straightening his posture and taking a heavy gulp before continuing. "Your fiancée. She has decided to attend the ball with another man." The assistant closed his eyes, before averting his gaze away from the Prince.

Casimir had barely placed his arms through the sleeves of his undershirt before hearing the news. He would allow the silence to fester for several moments, gritting his teeth before finally replying to the news, "Who?"

"The Eagle, sir."

Mauve. That bastard. It was the only name that could have made the situation even worse than it already was. Casimir wanted to throw himself into an angry tantrum, to let himself loose upon the unfortunate messenger. Instead, Casimir held his composure, finishing the final touches to his uniform; a regal suit fit for his princely status. It formed well across his shape, the shades of crimson accentuated by a near-ostentatious assortment of golden horse braids and epaulets that represented a Lion's mane. Though he managed to pridefully dress himself, underneath the surface, Casimir was seething. How dare that frail, pathetic excuse of a man attempt to steal away his ultimate prize.

As Casimir spun around, marching his way towards the doorway, his attendant cowered backwards, covering his face with his hands as the Prince moved past him. When he removed the arms that blocked his view, the Prince was gone... and the young messenger finally was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

At that promised hour of twilight, the Princess would soon notice a silhouette emerge from the corner of her visage. He was smartly dressed, though his aura was not nearly as eye-catching as Nyla's own. The Eagle's gaze ogled the Princess, starting from her heels and upwards towards her neckline. Eventually, his eyes stopped upon her necklace, focusing upon the collar which she still bore around her neck.

"You know that you need not wear such a thing, love." The rival Duke remarked, "Though, I should commend you on upholding your word, Princess. It is something that is becoming far and few between in recent days." He added, his hand reaching outwards as it waited for the Princess to accept it. "I simply cannot wait to see the look on that despicable man's face when he see you with me."

"Shall we?"

When Casimir arrived to the event, the murmurs and gossip had already started, words dribbling from ear to ear as the Eagle's cunning plan already set itself loose upon the nobles. If there was something that the noble-class enjoyed most, it was a taste of drama. The matter only became worse once Casimir showed himself, making his way through the crowds as thousands of eyes averted themselves towards him. In a sea of couples, to see the Vindex himself arriving without a date was the scandal of the evening.

"He actually came alone? How pathetic."

"Does that mean he's no longer interested in the Princess?"

The venomous drivel that occasionally met Casimir's ears made his brows furrow. Oh, he was annoyed, and that stubbornly cocky portrait didn't hide it well in the slightest. He stuck out like a handsomely-dressed sore thumb in the crowd of budding nobles, who intermingled and socialized among one another. Even the other members of the Order had come with their own dates, a fact which only rubbed salt deeper into his own wound; and he dared any of his subordinates the courage to approach him at this very moment.

Yet, even in those moments of anger, his gaze continued to search the crowd, until they would finally catch a glimpse of that very woman who had wronged him.

Passion · Jul 21, 2023

Upon its mention, Nyla's thin fingers touched the collar partially hidden away by golden decorations. "I must wear it especially if I expect others to uphold the tradition." She had to play along. Not to just be a respectable and honorable princess, but the fact that her goal was to win her freedom in a duel. When she was to win, she wouldn't expect any bending of the rules. She would be her own.

Her hand would leave her neckline to gingerly take Mauve's hand. Her berry-colored painted lips curled up into a warm smile. She hoped that tonight would take her mind off of her recent defeat and the overall pressure that weight on her each and every day. Without realizing it, Nyla put a lot of her hope on tonight. In fact, so much, she was a tad giddy; a feeling that she rarely felt these days.

Heading in, plenty of eyes were on Nyla and Mauve. Rumors would quickly spread about the possible romance which would catch like fire quicker than the princess losing a duel. The righteous and attractive pair looked good together, almost too good. It would make sense for Mauve and Nyla to court, but everyone knew about Vindex Spolia Ire which only added pressure on the dateless Vindex. For Nyla to even show up with a different man meant that she did not support the idea of wedding the current Vindex, Casimir. It was a subtle yet powerful act of rebellion that many would notice way before the veiled collar.

Weaving through the crowd with her date, many gave Nyla a smile and muttered compliments. With Nyla's current position, she could have arrived in rags, and still, a handful of compliments would be sent her way. However, Nyla did look beautiful in how she carried herself while dressed in her elegant gown that accented her toned body. She would stop upon a table filled with colorful drinks of juices, ales, and wines.

Nyla looked over the beautiful display of drinks until a brunette wearing a perfectly fitted and stylish green gown would pop in. "Hello, princess and my lord." It was Duchess Annet, a noble who mostly kept to herself but often fell victim to gossip like many. She had a eye for fashion and luxury. "You both look amazing tonight." The Duchess couldn't help but subconsciously brush back some of her dark, wavy hair as she compared herself to the polished princess. "Your gown is lovely. What material is it cut from?"

"You look quite nice as well." Nyla's gaze would flicker away to pick up a glass of sweet red wine. Once the glass was to her lips, she would look back to Annet. She wouldn't speak a word until she had a sip of the wine. The princess would have the duchess waiting in a polite pause, Nyla exercising her control and sway of the conversation. "It is made of silk from the Esterfield." Esterfield was a faraway region that many struggled to collect valuable resources from. It was safe to say that most from the Esterfield was reversed for royals or the rich.

Annet's soft gray eyes nearly sparkled. "Wow, that is so amazing princess. I envy you. My family only has received some decorative crystals from the Esterfield."

The golden princess would giggle as if flattered. "Oh, my. It is just a dress. I also-...." What was she suddenly feeling? It was like the air went cold and there were sparks against the back of her neck. She looked over her shoulder and caught Casimir's wrathful glare. The spite behind it was breathtaking and it made the princess shiver. Trying to brush it off, she'd turn her attention back to Annet. "You see Prince Casimir over there? I think his date didn't show up. Maybe you should talk to him and deliver him a glass of wine."

Annet would start to blush. "I... I don't know if he would like my company, and he is quite... scary..."

Nyla would take another glass of red wine and hand it over to Annet. "Deliver this to him. See if he wants company or at least a drink. No need to be scared if you are polite and mean well." Actually, Nyla couldn't promise that. Casimir had been rather aggressive as of late.

"If you say so..." Annet figured she had little to lose. Maybe Nyla had a point and it could be her chance to earn the attention of a prince! But... wasn't he supposed to wed Nyla? Did she think he would lose the title? Annet would walk over to Casimir with a cutely nervous demeanor. "He-hello. my Lord. Please accept this drink, and may it help you ease your tension."

Nyla would grab Mauve's hand once more and tug him forward a few steps. "Let's find a place to relex together." The pair would get lost in the buzz while Annet served as a distraction. It appeared the princess wasn't looking for a confrontation so soon, but could she run and hide from it?

Saint · Jul 30, 2023

Those deathly glares which beamed across the room, transfixed upon Casimir's 'stolen' prize, were undoubtedly felt by the Princess. Nyla's little gambit had worked out perfectly, as the scandal of the Imperial Princess interlocked with another man became the gossip of the night. Not a single person seemed to care about the duel which Casimir had won only hours prior. Clearly, the Lion had yet to learn that there was more to being a leader than just being powerful... and in this regard, Nyla might have been able to dance circles around him.

Casimir intended to push his way through the crowd, to confront the pair as quickly as possible. How dare that man lay his hands upon the Princess so effortlessly. No, the Prince would be putting a stop to this foolishness immediately. Yet, as soon as he began carve through the endless sea of intermingling nobles, the Prince found himself intercepted by another, ostentatiously dressed noblewoman. The Duchess, wielding a near-full glass of Edinburgh Red, had stopped the Lion in his tracks.

"Ah, hello— Annet, was it?" The Prince swallowed his disdain as he gazed down at the woman. As much as he wanted to wave the fancily dressed woman off, Casimir knew that her father held close relations with his own. Her father was one of the King's bannermen, and he knew that his father would have a scathing choice of words for him should he offend her.

"Eh?" The woman's eyes lit up almost immediately, "Y-you know my name?" She remarked happily, with a blush stretched upon her cheeks. For a lower ranking noblewoman to even be noticed by the Prince would have been a huge honor, if only she knew the Lion's true nature.

"Of course. Your father has served the crown well." He leaned closer, his hand delving beneath her chin to turn her shy gaze upwards so that he could better gaze into her eyes, "I'll be sure to remember that when the burden of Kingship in-turn falls upon me." The Lion crooked a devilish smile and brought his piercing gaze to bear. Albeit frightening, there was a dangerous charm in the Prince's handsome features that made most women melt in his presence. While he could have anyone, it was often the very thing that one cannot have that they desired the most.

"I-I brought this for you," Annet smiled as she handed the glass over towards him, "Do you think, your Highness has time for a dance?" Though the offer did little to satiate his bloodlust, Casimir had no choice but to accept. At the very least, the humiliating gossip of the Vindex coming to the festivities without a date would be blunted.

"Of course, it would be a pleasure..." The Lion bowed his head.

As Nyla grabbed Mauve's hand to tug him away, her date instead held his ground. "And away from the Lion bastard's prying eyes?" He remarked with an emerging grin, "Ah, fine. I suppose we should allow the beast to simmer for a bit." He chuckled, before finally following the Princess to a more intimate part of the room. Before they could move away from Casimir's visage, however, Mauve made it a point to release Nyla's hand, instead tucking it behind her waist. It wasn't until Casimir had once again disappeared among the crowd of nobles that the Knight leaned towards her, his lips hovering closer towards her ear.

"Do you think the two of us could go somewhere... quieter?" The blonde-haired Knight whispered, "As much as I enjoy being in the limelight, it just gets so noisy in here. He sighed, "Come, I have a place I want to show you." Without giving Nyla much of a choice in the matter, he was whisking her away towards another room, before showing her a door that led out into a large balcony. From the perched balcony, the pair would be able to see the entire city below in all of its splendor, the Academy having been constructed upon a grand mountain range which dwarfed the city of Everwinter in its magnificence.

The cold, night air wisped across the flesh, the moonlight illuminating the Knight as he beckoned Nyla to follow him closer to the edge. "Sometimes it's nice to get away, no?" He smiled, "Away from one's obligations and responsibilities... away from that monster." Mauve casually leaned himself across the barrier, "I am truly jealous of that man. Yet, I feel like I understand him better now more than ever." The Knight paused, before a deep sigh emanated from his lips, "If I were in his position— I'm not completely sure I'd be able to let you go, either."

Although he was still seething, Casimir continued to entertain the attentions of the young Duchess. The pair danced to the melodic tune of live-violins, intermingling with the other nobles as the night festivities continued on. Yet, the image of Mauve wrapping his arm behind Nyla's back had been permanently etched into his mind. Even as they danced, Casimir found himself hungrily searching for the Princess, only to find her hidden among the endless sea of nobles. As nearly an hour passed without her presence, Casimir plotted to make an excuse to free himself from Annet. After this song, he planned to—

His plans would never come to fruition as a sudden scream emanated from the room, causing the nobles to fall to silence and the orchestra to cease suddenly. The scream was bloodcurling and echoed throughout the halls of the banquet. When the other nobles realized the source of the scream, they too, began to shout in despair. For at the back of the room, a nobleman lay upon the floor, gurgling upon his own blood. Standing over him was a hooded silhouette, carrying a freshly bloodied sword. As the Prince's eyes traveled the room in bewilderment, it wouldn't be long until they would catch the glimpse of other, similarly dressed figures.

The nobles would scream and flee as the masked assassins brandished swords, each one mercilessly thrusting upon the closest student. The students, unarmed and defenseless, stood no chance as they were cut down, splattering the once beautiful white halls with streaks of crimson. The men killed indiscriminately, carving a bloodbath into any student that was unable to run fast enough. Even as the students shouted for the guards, it seemed like nobody was coming fast enough.

"Your Highness! Are you okay?!" One of the attendants from his order quickly found him, followed soon after by several other men, "We need to get you out of here!"

"Take the Duchess to safety!" The Prince shouted. "Help as many people as you can, and someone find the guards!"

"You can't be serious, where are you going?!"

"I'm not leaving her behind!" Casimir growled before rushing deeper into the carnage. He didn't have his sword, nor did he know how many men there were, but nobody was going to take Nyla from him.

Passion · Aug 3, 2023

The Imperial Princess's main goal was quite simple this night: to try to enjoy the evening as much as she could. A lovely night could help lick her ego's wounds after a defeat against her rival and show that while she hadn't won the battle, she didn't lose the war.

Mauve was happy to show her off to further infuriate the lion. Perhaps, it was a good time to further send the message that even if she wore his collar, Nyla was not the prince's despite how much he desired it. However, the socialite knew merely showing up with another man was enough to cause more than sparks, but flames that Casimir wouldn't be able to ignore.

If he wanted her that bad, he would have to catch his prey.

One of Nyla's strengths was in her subtlety, and her ability to skillfully manipulate. While her objective for an enjoyable night was quite innocent, it didn't stop the future empress from pulling strings; from sending over Annet as an obstacle to willingly strolling away with her date leaving him to wonder... she was doing her best to think one step ahead of the prince who instead often paved his path with aggression. However, maybe she had read Casimir wrong. Surely, he knew how to pull some strings too.Even though Nyla practiced insight, she wouldn't be able to predict the crimson fate that would later unfold on this beautiful night.

The woman couldn't help but grin at Mauve's contradictions. She'd reply in a similar low tone, "Going from wanting to show me off in front of the angered lion to now wishing to take me somewhere more private? You are one difficult man to read, but quite bold. Good thing I like a man who can keep me on my toes."

Following his lead, she would be whisked away with him, escaping the crowd and finding her way to the balcony which provided some privacy and a magnificent view. As of late, Nyla had been too caught up in the events connected to her father's illness that she had forgotten to take in the small things; just like the lovely scenery or how refreshing the evening breeze was.

"Mmm...does feel nice to get out of that stifling room. I've always been rather fond of the night." She gently closed her eyes for a moment to focus on the gentle gust that caressed her frame. Her lashes would flutter back open and she would look over to Mauve. Lowering her inner armor a tad to express herself to him, she'd confess some of her hardship. "While I am honored to be the imperial princess, it can be rather tiring at times." There was always so much buzzing in her head, would it ever simmer down more than brief moments like this? So many sleepless nights. So much training. So many eyes on her...

Her dark eyes seemed to light up in the moonlight at his kind words. "You flatter me so." The princess smiled. Despite her title, she still was a woman who enjoyed compliments, and no matter who she ended up spending her life with, she would hope she would be seen as precious enough on a personal level that they would never want to let her go. However, maybe she should be careful with her heart's wishes. Some truly might never let her go once they had her.

A scream was all it took to instantly destroy peace and summon chaos. There was panic and death in the air, it was fair to assume that they were under a surprise attack. Just like the other goers, she was without a weapon, but the fighter in her kept her calm. She surveyed the area to look for a makeshift weapon. "We aren't safe here," she stated the obvious. There was nowhere to hide and pinned between the open air of the balcony and the room under attack.

The woman eyed one of the metal, standing candelabras near the balcony entrance. It would be awkward to use as a weapon especially dressed in her elegant dress and shorter statue, but it could possibly work. After all, the princess was a fighter, and she had to at least try to defend herself.

Grabbing the candled lamp that neared five feet, she would shake off the candles on the stone floor. It was heavier than it looked, so both of the princess' hands were used to wield it. She would near the door, peeking around the side to see who and where her foes may be.

It would seem that she forgot that Mauve was even there, but that was just how intensely focused she was. Like the golden dragon, she was brave, confident, and believed in a prosperous fate; victory. If one of the hooded figures was to approach, Nyla would be there to give them a mighty swing of the candelabra.

Saint · Aug 10, 2023

Panic continued to take its stranglehold upon the room, the elegantly dressed nobles and aristocrats practically clamoring and trampling one another to escape as the sword-wielding assailants bathed their blades through entire royal bloodlines. Although many of the young students might have made short work of the assassins under other circumstances, many of them were tipsy and even if sober; completely unarmed. Those that were brave enough attempted to save the injured, among which were Casimir's kin. Though, throughout all of the bloodshed, the Prince only thought about saving a single person.

Luckily, the chaos made for a good distraction and the Prince managed to rush his way through the crowd of attackers and their unfortunate victims. Upon leaving the main ballroom and entering one of the dining rooms, Casimir was met with a gruesome sight. A sea of blood, interspersed between the strewn out bodies of the noblemen and women. Though Casimir was no stranger to death, such a grisly sight made even the Lion's stomach churn. As he quickly scanned the faces of the victims for any sight of the Princess, he could suddenly hear the stomping of unfamiliar boots approaching.

Quickly, the Prince fell upon the nearest body, laying beside a portly man that he quickly recognized as the Baron of Aventurre. He dared not dwell upon the lost nobleman, lest he soon share the same fate. Instead, he placed his face down, allowing the blood to sink into his once pristine uniform and stain his handsome features. It wasn't until he could feel the presence of others around him that he took a deep breath, holding the air in his lungs lest the killers hear him exhale.

"Where is she?" One of the armed men began, "We need to find her soon."

The men sauntered closer, until they were practically standing over the Prince. Even with his eyes closed, Casimir could sense the shadow that was looming over him, blocking out the light that was making its way to closed pupils. He could hear a rustling, a hand skirting over his back before grabbing the Baron adjacent to him.

"She can't be far. We will find her soon." The other assailant remarked as he turned over the Baron's body, "Poor bastards didn't stand a chance. I thought they'd put up more of a fight." Suddenly, the man drove his sword into the already deceased Baron's neck, a splatter of blood once again splattering across the Prince's back.

"School of Heroes? What a joke. Just a bunch of spoiled rich kids." With that, the two men disappeared, the sound of their clattering boots in the distance marking their departure.

It wouldn't be until the two men disappeared that Casimir's burning lungs would finally gasp for oxygen once again, his eyes dilating as the adrenaline flowed throughout his bloodstream. He rose from the ground, before turning his gaze towards the balcony door...

The evening wisp of air would bite against the Princess' features as the chaos brewing inside of the ballroom eventually fell into an eerie silence. Through the curtain-blocked windows, she would have been able to only see the silhouettes crashing against one another, along with the muted screams that were drawn from beyond. Mauve bit his lip, watching as the Princess attempted to find some sort of weapon to use. If only they had brought their swords, they might have stood a fighting chance against the men that were coming for them. Finally, the sounds fell to silence, which the Knight found several times more terrifying than the screams that preceded it.

Maybe they were gone? Mauve thought to himself temporarily, a thought that was dispelled once the door drew open. Soon, not one, not two, but a dozen men were marching into view, with cloaks covering their features. The men were covered in blood, their swords and cloaks still dribbling trails of blood everywhere they stepped. Slowly, they began to approach the Princess, the men slowly drawing a circle around her as they blocked off any possibility of escape.

"Let me handle this." Mauve pushed past the Princess, before stepping in front of the men, "Do you know who this is?" He began, the Knight puffing out his chest in attempt to hide his fear, "This is the Crown Princess of the Empire, the Daughter of the Imperial Helian line. I don't know what ruffian nobleman put you up to this job, but whatever you are being paid, it would not be worth being hunted for the rest of your lives for killing the Princess."

A long silence drew over the group, the gasps of the midnight air carrying over the glares of the surrounding men. Suddenly, one of the men grabbed Mauve, before pushing him to the ground,

"We aren't here to kill the Princess." The man growled, before raising his sword into the air to strike Nyla's unfortunate date.

"Hold it!" A familiar voice shrilled from behind. As the men parted to turn around, there he was. The Lion Prince himself, unarmed and vulnerable. Yet, even though he was outarmed and outnumbered, the cocky bastard just couldn't help but confidentialy march himself closer towards the group. "The Princess belongs to me." He continued to saunter forward, until one of the men intercepted him.

"Get out of my—" The Prince wouldn't even be able to finish his sentence before the assassin drove his sword into the Prince's chest. Dark pupils widened as the blade sliced through his flesh, the blade piercing his heart and driving all the way through to the other side. Casimir coughed up blood, his entire body becoming numb as he felt his gaze beginning to waver and blur. Fuck— why did dying have to be so goddamned painful?

You fool. My soul is bound to yours. Did you even consider what would happen to me if you were to die?"

Casimir smirked, 'Yeah, that was kind of the fucking point.'

... what a nuisance you are.

"That's enough of this, grab the Princess and let's get out of here." The assassin remarked, his sword still pressed into the Lion Prince's chest. Yet, it wasn't until he attempted to draw the sword from Casimir's chest that he noticed that his hand was being held in place.

"Did you think... it would be that easy?" Casimir's hand gripped upon the blade that punched through his chest, carelessly grabbing upon the sharpened edge and preventing the sword from pulling away. He cared not that his heart had been pierced, or that his blood began to run down the cold steel as it cut deeper into his hand. The man that had once held all of the control now had a gaze of shock. How was he still talking? How was he not dead yet?

The Prince's other hand raised into the air, before punching forwards. His hand smashed against the man's face with superhuman strength, puncturing the man's lower jaw as Casimir's hand pierced through and onto the other side. The man tried to scream out in agony, but without a throat, he found it difficult to do so and it wasn't long until his body was slumped motionless against the man who had killed him.

The assassins gasped in horror, before raising their blades...

With that, the attackers fell upon Casimir, each one trying to drive their sword into the possessed Prince. With the first man's sword still wedged into his body, whatever was left of the Lion Prince began to deliver the same fate to the men. One by one, the assassins fell gruesomely. First a man was decapitated, before the next had his arm pulled from his socket. It had been a thousand years since the demon had tasted blood, and he had no desire to squander the opportunity. Those men that had the misfortune to scream wailed until their lungs gave out, while others were given the mercy of a quick death.

When only one man remained, he dropped his weapon, before attempting to flee. Casimir grabbed the unfortunate attacker, before hurling the screaming man over the balcony like he had been nothing but a toy. Over a thousand feet from the city below, it was a fall that no man would survive. In what had felt like only a few moments, Casimir had made a bloodbath of the attackers, their bodies near unrecognizable as they painted the entirety of the once gorgeous balcony. As the last man fell to the ground, Casimir could only let out an otherworldly, diabolical cackle. His voice was different, several octaves lower, to the point where it was a sound no other human could produce...

F̼̼͓̙ͤ̋̅̚͞͞i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́, I̡̨͙͙̪̹̾͟ a͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎m̰̰̹͚̙̂ͦ͗͠ f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧ.

Passion · Aug 11, 2023

With her grip tight around the warm metal of the candelabrum, the battle princess held her ground with her heels sinking in between the stones of the balcony. Her dark eyes flickered with the vivid spirit of life, and the swelling tension had her gritting her teeth. She refused to have the same fate as those who fell this night. For a short and faux moment, it seemed like they had escaped the violence. Silence brought a stilling comfort and yet it was the same sound as death. For that lingering instant, Nyla found herself unable to breathe more than unproductive, shallow breaths. All she could hear was her thrashing pulse and the whispers of the once-soothing evening breeze as she awaited her foes.

The haunting silence was abruptly broken by the boots of men with bloodstained weapons and armor. Her gaze bounced between the silhouettes, waiting for one of them to cross an invisible line that would result in her attack. However, she knew she was outnumbered and that a heavy swing would leave her open to an attack or to be grabbed. If she was to perish here, she would make sure she delivered as much damage as possible and would die fighting compared to cowardly begging. Her bravery was admirable although, deep down she was petrified, left to only rely on instincts and the scattered advice and teachings of her mentors.

Mauve would step before her which reminded the princess that she was not alone in this dark moment. He spoke with valor and devotion towards the imperial family which made her proud. He truly was a brave man, maybe foolish since words didn't do much against swords... but Nyla found her heart fluttering for the knight who honored her even when facing men who paved a path of crimson just to get to her. It showed her that Mauve wasn't just trying to woo her with smoke and mirrors; he understood her worth even during a critical time.

However, that warmth she felt to have Mauve on her side was stripped from her when the man was grabbed and thrown to the ground. A sword was raised to take away the knight Nyla had been growing rather fond of. "Don-...!" Before she could finish her command as a princess and a woman with a heart, the voice of her rival would pierce the air.

What was he doing here? Was he trying to get himself killed? He couldn't be this arrogant, could he? Knowing the lion, possibly, but now wasn't the time to flaunt. Even though she had been working against the prince, it did not mean that she believed he deserved death. She much rather have him put in his place and him live with that fact.

"Get out of here, you fool!" The woman bit her lower lip when he still claimed her as his own even during a bloody night that left a disturbing number of their comrades dead. What did these brutes even want with her that they would go this far? "Shut up, Casimir! You can't try to claim me if you are dead!" She didn't want anyone else to fall tonight, not even the prince that could one day take away her liberation. After all, when all this was over, she still believed that she could one day defeat the prince to win her freedom fair and square.

So, it didn't have to end like this...

...but would it?

It would seem so; the prince's fiery heart was pierced by the cold steel of one of their foes. Nyla would drop her makeshift weapon and cup her mouth in awe with both hands. No way he was this stupid. No way... While she didn't like the idea of being forced to be his, she did like Casimir alive since he pushed her to better herself. Also, she was the one who was supposed to defeat him to send a clear and personal message, and she couldn't do that if he was to die here.

Unable to even blink, Nyla stared in horror while lingering in the background. There was no way he would survive such a blow, but then he would do exactly that. Actually, he would do more than that; he was talking and was his usual cocky self. How?! As if Nyla couldn't be more shocked, the prince would do the unthinkable and would punch through the man's lower face with inhuman strength. A level of strength she had never seen in any man. Had he been holding back on her this entire time?

Frozen, breathless, and speechless, Nyla watched on as Casimir took on multiple assassins to deliver them gruesome deaths using a fighting style she hadn't seen from him before. His attacks were not just powerful, but destructive and without mercy. The men deserved such a punishment, but how was Casimir successfully taking them all on? More suspicions would come to light that something abnormal was at play when she heard his unsettling altered voice.

Nyla swiftly nabbed the closest blade of one of the fallen and held the weapon at her side in a neutral stance. The prince was on her side especially since he desired to have her as his own, but she did not trust what she saw and heard coming from the man. "Casimir, what happened to you...?" Did that really even matter now...? It was best to ask questions later. "We need to see if any survivors that need help while we get out of here. There could be enemy reinforcements coming." It was the princess they wanted, and this group proved they would kill anyone just to get to her, and it seemed that the lion would do the same.

Saint · Aug 13, 2023

At first, the words that left Nyla's lips did not seem to elicit a reaction from the possessed Prince. Little did she know, the man that was standing before her was not the Prince that she loathed, but something else entirely. If only she knew how deep his obsessions for her truly delved, how he had secretly signed his body and soul to a demon in exchange for power. Though, even in his possessed state, Casimir's desires lingered just beneath the surface of that primal, bloodthirsty beast.

"I'm not sure what's happening, but I suppose we owe you our gratitude for arriving at the right time." The Knight beside Nyla remarked, rising from the ground. He could still feel his heart pounding against his chest, having been so close to death just a few moments prior. "Wait..." He paused, before averting his eyes towards the ground. Between the macabre sight of bodies that were strewn across the once beautiful scenery, Mauve plucked out a golden chain from the ground. He brought the object upwards, dangling the necklace higher so that it could be seen against the moonlight.

"The assassins were wearing this," Mauve began once again, before revealing his findings to the two remaining witnesses. The object would have been all too familiar to the Princess. Dangling from the golden chain was a talisman containing the sigil of the dragon. It was a necklace that every Knight in the Emperor's personal guard wore, a mark of loyalty and the symbol of Nyla's birthright.

"That means—" Mauve's eyes turned towards his date, his look of shock soon devolving into a beaming glare, "You were the one behind this." He finally claimed, clutching the medallion tighter in his hands, "Everyone knows the Emperor's Guard only takes commands from the Royal Family." The man reached down, before grabbing a sword from one of the deceased men at his feet, "You wanted to escape this place that badly— that you would commit such an atrocity just to disappear?" He couldn't believe it, but in his shock, Mauve clearly wasn't interested in seeing any other reasoning.

"I'm going to take you in, Nyla. The tribunal will decide whether or not you're guilty."

As Mauve continued to speak, a shadow slowly began to loom over him from behind. Like a hunter stalking its newfound prey, the possessed Casimir slowly drew closer to him from behind. It wouldn't be until his silhouette blocked out the moon's evening light that he realized what was happening— and by then it was too late. Suddenly, a powerful hand grabbed Mauve from behind, before slamming him face first into the nearest wall. Nyla's unfortunate date screamed as his face was pressed against the vertical surface. Just a little more pressure and there was no doubt that the Knight would have met a similar fate to the men beneath him.

"You will do no such thing, worm." The possessed voice shrilled, "She is my prize to claim." Those fingers that pinned his face against the wall soon tightened around his scalp, until the man began to scream. Blood ran down his face and his arms and legs flailed out in desperation as the demon continued to apply increasing pressure to the back of his head.

"Listen carefully," Casimir's lips hovered closer to the man's ear, "You will clean up the evidence. Or you will die." Even as he spoke, Mauve continued to scream out in pain. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes! Gods, yes! I'll take all of the medallions and make sure nobody finds out!" It wasn't until Casimir would hear that shouting that he would finally pull Nyla's date free from the wall. His face was covered in his own blood and as he slumped to the floor, he trembled.

"Now you." Casimir growled as he turned his attentions back towards Nyla. He sauntered closer, as if he had completely forgotten about the fool that was now laying at his feet. He hovered closer still, until he was finally in arm's grasp of the Princess.

"You will follow me." The demon remarked, his hand carefully reaching out towards the Princess. That hand that had so easily taken the lives of so many men, still drenched in the taste of crimson fluids. Gently, it brushed against the side of Nyla's cheek, his thumb leaving a streak of red across her cheek. Standing so close to him, she would be able to see that otherworldly, scarlet glow that emanated from his eyes. Demonic and magical, they glared deep into Nyla's own, as if searching for any semblance of fear in her own gaze.

"Or else I will hurt you, too."

Passion · Aug 13, 2023

Something was amidst, but Nyla was unable to put her finger on it. With all that had suddenly taken place, clear thoughts were hard to come by. She believed all that mattered now was getting everyone to safety, just in case there was another round of foes. They could get reinforcements and fresh blades, which seemed like a better plan than lingering on the balcony. "We cannot stay here any longer." She watched as Mauve checked one of the bodies, and to her surprise, he found a golden sigil that the princess knew far too well. The gold dragon represented not only her Order but her family line. Her eyes dilated at the the realization, and it felt as if the air was knocked right out of her.

Had father sent them? No, Father is not a carelessly violent man.
Had a group of my followers gone rogue?
Is the talisman a counterfeit? Am I being framed?
Had I said something about my unhappiness that could have been misinterpreted?
No, I've kept most of my emotions to myself.
None of this makes sense...!

As if the princess wasn't shocked enough, Mauve, the man who just spoke of her honor, was now accusing her of the heinous crime. "I did not command an attack! Those men committed treason or are fake!" Her words, which once had weight, were lighter than air to Mauve. She could see in his eyes that he wholeheartedly believed she was guilty. Oh, how people's hearts and minds could change in a matter of seconds. It would have been disheartening no matter her connection with Mauve, but this was personal. The princess had budding feelings for the knight, and now he looked at her like she was some kind of disgusting monster. His judgment caused her heart to ache; the seedlings of their connection were trampled before they could ever bloom.

"I would never! You should know this! It hurts me that you would even suggest something like that. I am not that desperate, and I never will be! I can grasp my own fate without unspeakable and heartless acts!" Her vision blurred from the stinging of welled-up tears in her eyes, but she refused to cry. It took so much of her iron will to not break down into tears over the events of the night, but the princess remained as strong as she could. A true empress should never show such weakness.

While the princess and knight bickered, Casimir slipped in and grievously pinned Mauve's face into the nearby wall. "Cas-Casimir! Don't!" Even after being accused, she didn't wish death on Mauve. It could have been her feelings for him, or simply that too many had fallen this night, but even after being accused of a life-ruining crime, her heart was still warm for the knight. However, Nyla couldn't help but fear that Mauve would think she only expressed care to keep up an illusion.

At that moment, Nyla felt helpless. She didn't understand where the prince's supernatural strength was coming from, and one wrong step could result in the knight's head being crushed. She had a weapon in hand, and yet it was as if she completely forgot how to use it. She was captured in the moment, again, breathless and speechless. A command regarding hiding evidence was given, and would go against Mauve's noble nature that the princess admired him for, but the pain and being inches away from a death sentence had the once virtuous knight bending to the possessed prince's demands.

Would Mauve see her truth after this, or would he think that Casimir and her were in on this whole mess together? Like a stupid school girl, she was still hung up on the idea of the knight's perception of her changing, but at least he still breathed. It was hard for her to remove her gaze from the injured knight, but Casimir's looming presence was impossible to ignore. He was much more fixated on the princess than she could ever imagine.

The prince neared her, and she responded with a heavy step back. "We need to get Mauve and the others to the medics!" The princess remained righteous and kept thinking like a compassionate leader despite being accused of unimaginable sins and faced with Casimir's strange and violent demeanor. The prince didn't seem to care about the princess' demand. His hand would find her soft cheek, which was warm from all the adrenaline pumping through her. His hand was wet and warm with the blood of friend and foe after being told to follow.

She gripped the hilt of her sword tighter, but she found herself freezing up once more in awe. It felt like the only thing that could free her from the invisible binds was him. He was so close, too close... but he knew that Nyla wouldn't raise the sword against him unless she had to or they were officially in a duel. Still, there was something different about Casimir, or maybe there was this part of him she never noticed.

She was threatened, which puzzled her further. Had Casimir sent these men? Shouldn't they be on the same side, at least for now?

Her words caught in a breathy whisper, she'd agree, "I will go..." Nyla would release the sword in her hand, which would fall to the ground with a harsh clang of metal on stone. Her eyes searched his piercing gaze for answers to her unspoken questions. "But do not harm anyone else from the academy." Her stomach was still in a knot after seeing how close Mauve was to death.

She wondered where the crimson prince would take her and what his plan was, but she knew she would find out soon enough. She choked back her tears and kept her poker face; although she was distressed, at least she could take comfort in the fact that Casimir wouldn't want her dead.

Saint · Aug 21, 2023

The Princess' date writhed upon the ground, the flank of his injured face buried into the palm of his hand. Even in his pitiful state, he would still beam a glare of intense hatred upon the accursed Prince, though even he dared not speak against the mad man that stood above him. He watched as Nyla dropped the weapon, acquiescing to the Prince's demands.

"How selfless. Still, I think you should be more concerned about yourself, your Highness." The demon-possessed Casimir coyly remarked, "I will not hurt anyone else, so long as you play nicely." He flashed a wretched grin, which seemed to crease even further across his lips than even the cocky and self-assured Prince could ever manage.

Slowly, the Prince turned, beckoning for the the Princess to follow as he began to make his way past the marble-stained streaks of crimson that the demon had created. As the pair made their way to the exit, a series of familiar faces emerged from the doorway. They were Casimir's men, who watched with surprised gazes as their eyes processed the rather gruesome scene that had been brutally painted across the balcony.

"Clean the mess up. Collect their medallions and bury them." Casimir didn't even turn to look at his underlings, instead merely pausing beside them. "There will be no gossip or rumors of the Assassin's allegiances. Not until we figure it out first. Is that understood?" The Prince then turned his gaze towards the man beside him, the moonlight striking the blood-soaked face of the Prince, his beaming, crimson glare burning vibrant with an otherworldly glow.

The man wouldn't even vocalize a response, merely nodding sheepishly before turning towards the others behind him. The men scurried away, before the path before Casimir and Nyla was freed.

Without a word, Casimir would wave his hand, once more gesturing the Princess to follow him. The pair would make their way through the banquet halls, introducing Nyla to the carnage for the first time. The macabre and horrifying scene of their classmates strewn across the once gorgeous halls, the slaughter of the defenseless nobles still running red with fresh blood. All of the faces would have been at least recognizable to the pair, even if they wouldn't have been able to put a name to a face.

"If the world finds out about the medallions, the Empire will tear itself apart." Casimir remarked as he waltzed past the bodies of their peers. "Their families will want revenge." If only these powerful families knew it had been the Royal Guard that had murdered their children— they would soon clamor for the Emperor's head... for Nyla's head.

And that simply wouldn't be acceptable for Casimir.

The accursed Prince continued to lead the Princess through the halls of the Academy, backtracking his way through the labyrinthian corridors. All the while, servants and faculty would frantically run up and down the halls, carrying the wounded or medical supplies. Casimir and Nyla wouldn't even receive a second glance among the chaos, allowing them to eventually find themselves disappearing in through a nearby doorway.

As the pair entered the doorway, Casimir shut the door behind him, before turning the lock shut with an all-too-audible: 'CLICK!', a sound which seemed to reverberate throughout the room forevermore.

Nyla would find herself in Casimir's bedchambers, his accommodations at the Academy not very different from the Princess' own, considering their royal bloodlines. A spacious room beset with ostentatiously decorated furniture, a bed fit for royalty, along with a couch of equal quality. But the interior décor of the Prince's room was probably the least of Nyla's concerns. Now that the pair was away from prying eyes, the Princess would only be able to guess what Casimir still had in store for her.

Casimir slowly made his way towards the couch, beside it, he would plunge his hands into an adjacent washbowl, cleaning off the blood of his unfortunate victims before drying it with a nearby towel. Shortly after cleaning his hands, he would settle backwards into the couch, nestling lazily into the backseat before his eyes once more made contact with Nyla's own.

He would say nothing. Two fingers would gesture for the Princess to come closer, before turning upside down to point towards his lap.

Passion · Aug 21, 2023

It wasn't just the fact that he was dripping with the blood of the slain; something wasn't right about Casimir. While Nyla didn't know him well on a personal level, she knew what it was like to be against him in battle. He always looked cocky and was often on the edge of taking things too far, but this was different. Now he was truly arrogant and without a filter. The idea of him being possessed wouldn't go further than a figure of speech for Nyla. The idea of anything demonic being on the campus grounds and close to the imperial princess seemed impossible. She was thinking that Casimir's adrenaline from the chaotic night had unlocked a more primal form in him. She couldn't blame him either. The attack against them while most of them were so vulnerable was sickening. Yet, could she blame that superhuman strength on adrenaline alone?

Her face remained unreadable and frozen, but in her silence, her mind was buzzing. She looked down at the injured knight, which caused her to pause, but the princess would straighten her posture once more and speak with her royal conviction. "Is that a threat to nobility?" Her eyes narrowed as her stern question hung between them. More treason? "Watch your tongue, Casimir. I already agreed to go when I should stay here and help the others." She was selfless, him... selfish.

As she promised, Nyla would follow the prince, and she did her best to ignore the violence. It wasn't that she didn't have the stomach for it, but her desire to help and the anger as well as sadness she would feel would not benefit her here. She had no idea where she was being led, but Nyla was doing her best to keep her thinking clear. She was already close to being swept up after all that happened to Mauve, the victims at their feet, and the fact that somehow her name got dragged into all this. Clearly, she was being set up, and it infuriated her, although she still carried herself with grace as her father would expect her to. There was little room for emotions as a future empress.

Keeping her head up and eyes glued to the prince's back, she continued to dismiss the dead around them, but she didn't need to see it to know that she was walking through devastation. It was hard to believe that only moments ago, the night was glowing with life and fun, but now it was suffering and death. She could only hope that none of her friends or members of her Order had perished, but she would find that out later. Already, she was having intrusive thoughts about going to the fallens' burials.

"We will get to the bottom of it. It is disheartening to think that anyone would believe that the Empire would have anything to do with this... Father has always been a peaceful leader." Which was true. Emperor Helian had led decades of mostly peaceful rule due to the Emperor's passive and conservative approaches. While he was seen as a great leader by many, some argued he could be a bit more of an opportunist. The problem was that the public was... stupid. They would get fixated on a hot, unbelievable story before one of reason. She already saw how easily Mauve thought she was involved, not even assuming that maybe the medallion was planted or a fake.

Oh, how quickly humans were willing to turn on each other.... It was quite a scary fact for a budding leader.

Unsure of where they were heading, Nyla continued to follow the crimson prince. Those who buzzed around them felt distant. They hardly even looked at the princess and prince, since they still walked and breathed. She had nothing to say, nothing to offer... She couldn't do anything, especially while following Casimir. So, she would continue to follow while feeling like her heart was about to leap out of her chest. It felt like she was walking in a misty dream, and she didn't snap out of it until she heard the click of a lock.

Huh? Wasn't this Casimir's room? It puzzled her, but maybe he just wanted to speak to her privately. After all, foul play was clearly taking place. Still, now didn't feel like the right time for critical thinking; the princess was still dealing with shock that was cloaked under a thin veil of professionalism.

She stayed put as the prince cleaned off and got settled on the couch. Her eyes narrowed into a glare when he gestured to his lap. He'd get her to take a few steps toward him, but she would stop once she was within arm's reach. "If you have a theory, speak now. If not, I'd feel better helping those in need or at least having a moment or two alone to clear my head." The princess was still trying to call the shots. While she hid it well, one good look in her eye would reveal that she was ready to burst from the pressure of the night. She was already banking on the event going well to ease the fact that she recently lost a duel and was forced to wear a collar, but everything ended up getting so much... worse.

Saint · Aug 28, 2023

The Crimson Prince watched lazily as his prey hovered closer, speaking as she stopped an arm's length from him. His foot tapped impatiently against the carpet, the tinge of annoyance that was now becoming fully flustered underneath Nyla's continued defiance. Those dribbles of irritation that dwelled beneath the Prince's surface would soon become anguish for the Prince, as if what would have irritated Casimir before now only served to release the demon that still controlled his body.

"A theory?" The demon pretended to ponder the thought for a transient moment, but deeper thoughts were fleeting. He cared not for the squabbles of mortals— and he could sense that Casimir himself cared even less. He leaned forward from his seat, pursing his lips as if he was about to enlighten the Princess with his own opinions on the horrors that had just transpired.

Instead, the Prince's hand surged forward, capturing Nyla's wrist between his powerful grasp. She would find that Casimir would be taking her hand with surprising strength, that no matter how hard she tried, his prey wouldn't be able to struggle free. With an overwhelmingly forceful pull, he would bring the Princess stumbling towards him. He would use the surprise of his attack and her confusion to skillfully switch places with her, thrusting her face first into the seat of the couch before pressing his weight into her. Before Nyla would be able to realize what was happening, she would find herself trapped in a compromising position, the side of her face pressing unceremoniously into the backseat of the couch.

"Even I know that you're above such foul play," Casimir placed his hand on the back of Nyla's head, his strong, dexterous fingertips digging themselves uncomfortably into Nyla's dark scalp, "No, you prefer to do your own dirty work yourself, don't you?" His hand tightened harder still, the very same hands that had so easily plastered the walls in the blood of Nyla's would be captors. Those same hands that made those assassins cry out in horror before delivering them to their brutal ends.

"Like trying to humiliate me in front of everyone and trying to make me jealous." The self-centered Prince growled. Slowly, his free offhand began to move downwards, grabbing hold of the dark dress that Nyla once wore so proudly. The dress had accentuated her lovely features beautifully... and it still angered Casimir more that she had made herself so gorgeous for another man; enough so that the Prince wished nothing more than to ravage the pretty silk fabric into unrecognizable pieces. Just like he had done to the men that sought to steal her away from him. Like he had planned to do to Mauve, had Nyla not demanded he stop.

And ravage he did.

From the backless opening, his strong hand grabbed purchase of that backless opening, before a sharp tug and the sound of ripping fabric resounded throughout the air. The gentle fabric ripped so easily underneath that brutish, newfound demonic strength, practically offering no resistance as Casimir ripped downwards, revealing the undergarments that the Princess bore underneath. Even those would not last very long, once again greedy hands were bearing down upon them as they were torn free free from her waist.

"You are mine, Nyla." Any sounds that would draw from Nyla's vocal chords would find themselves muffled by the couch, any attempt to press against him would be met by his overbearing strength. "—and I will tame you." The hand that traversed the Princess' backside and tore violently against her dress now made its way to the newfound opening. Slowly, it caressed the innermost part of her leg, before softly trailing upwards towards her exposed rear. His offhand greedily caressed the curvaceous flesh, before tightly grasping at her rear to the point where the feeling would quickly transcend discomfort and become painful.

"To start, I want to hear your apology."As the demon cooed softly, the hand that pinned her head into the couch yanked upwards on her hair, pulling her free from the seat so that she could avert her gaze upwards towards the ceiling. With her hair pulled backwards, the Prince's hand loosened its grip upon her curvaceous end. It had seemed like the Prince was giving Nyla a momentary reprieve, until she would be able to see in her visage the shadow of an open palm cast upon the ceiling above. Slowly it drew backwards, before crashing down upon the Princess' rear in a resounding—

'SMACK!' The brutish strike instantly marred the Princess' once perfect flesh, streaking a crimson print across her rearward cheek as the skin oscillated and trembled from the force of the impact.

"Go on, Princess. Let it out." Slowly, that hand that had struck her gently made its way back to her rear, carefully caressing the numb spot as if to serve as a warning that he could do it again if he liked. All the while, his other hand kept its grip upon her dark locks, forcing her to arch awkwardly if she wished to relieve herself from the pain. Did he expect her to surrender so easily? No.

But that was the fun part.

Passion · Aug 30, 2023

Her dark but vivid gaze held on the prince when he fell into silent wonder. The pause in Nyla showed that she actually did care what Casimir had to say, despite seeing his abnormally violent behavior. He did not know all the ties the imperial family had, but she saw him and his family as worthy figures in politics. They both knew details that commoners did not, and so she gave her rival the chance to try to brainstorm with her regarding what the hell had happened this night.

When he sat up in a way that she interpreted as if he had an epiphany, Nyla held her breath, and her gaze became unblinking. However, he would reanimate her when he bluntly snatched her wrist. Caught by surprise, her face shifted into an expression of utter shock as she exhaled a breathy gasp. Following her instincts, Nyla tried to pull her arm away from him, but the princess wasn't known for her strength despite being fairly stronger than the average untrained woman. Before she could speak, Nyla was yanked down while Casimir rose up. The princess was now the one caught on the couch she had just refused to join him on.

Placing her hands on the cushions, she would attempt to push herself back up against his supernatural strength. Her arms and upper body trembled with effort. "Unhand me! You know who I am!" She sounded like a spoiled brat, but she was the imperial princess. Putting his hands on her like this could be a crime worthy of a death sentence.

"Wh-what?!" While Nyla knew how to play social chess every now and again, the woman was mostly pretty virtuous. To imply differently got under her skin, and it was one reason why Mauve's poor perception of her left a painful and personal impression on her. "That wasn't my intent! The only message I was trying to send was my freedom! I don't belong to anyone!" It was the same message Nyla always tried to send, especially after her father fell ill. She didn't agree with the decree, and her father still breathed, so she officially still had her freedom thus, she would exercise it.

As she tried to pull herself up, the princess was growing more upset by the second. In fact, so much so that she didn't even notice the wandering of his other hand until there was a sharp pull followed by the sound of tearing fabric. He'd get another gasp out of her, but this one in horror compared to pure surprise. He would find that the only thing she had under her dress was a matching pair of silk panties that were worn to blend into the dress just in case somehow someone were to see under it. Her pale, warm-hued skin was on display, which was nearly blemish-free other than some faint bruises and scratches from her training. For a petite woman, she had a temptingly narrow waist and a toned body as a reward for her dedication.

She would be freed from the rest of the fabric clinging to her, leaving her naked other than the collar she promised to wear and her heels. To say she was embarrassed would be an understatement. While Nyla was mature given her position, it was the same reason why she was innocent. As a woman of status, she treated her body like a sacred temple, but the prince was willing to desecrate it with his desirous greed.

Her voice was muffled, but with the upset-vigor behind her words, she would be heard. "I am NOT yours!" Adrenaline shot through her, and it had her pushing up against his hold with more strength, her head attempting to shake and jolt away, leaving her once smooth braid looking unkempt. "I am NOT some kind of animal to be tamed!" The woman gritted her teeth and growled as his hand boldly started to wander, each inch increasing his crime. When his hand found her plush backside, she threw an arm back and caught his wrist to try to stop him, even if it was futile. "Do not touch me! Do not l-look at m-me!" While her tone rang with conviction, the princess was subtly cracking. Losing the duel, having her crush look at her with disgust, seeing so many comrades in pools of blood, being forcibly disrobed, and the daily distress regarding her father were crushing on the woman. Most of her struggles she kept to herself, but they kept piling up this night. She was losing more and more of her grace. it was fair to say she was hanging on by mere threads, but it didn't stop her from having the spirit of the golden dragon.

Pulled by her now messy hair, she failed to comprehend the ceiling as her spiteful attention was solely on him. He let go of her bum for a moment, only to slap her pale flesh pink. She cried out; some tears blurred her vision, yet did not cry. The stinging lingered, and he would get something out of her; her spite,

"GO TO HELL!"

Anger was only the surface level of what she was forced to repress as a noble. However, with how she was pushed, he would get much rawer reactions out of the woman who tried to be the best princess in her father's shadow.

She threw her body back towards the couch, scrambling as if she would climb right over it and away from him if she could. Not caring if her own hair was tugged in the process since she was running off of the simple instinct of trying to get away from the one who was trying to hold her captive and was willing to inflict pain on her body and to her ego.

Saint · Sep 8, 2023

Nyla's commands would fall upon deaf ears as she made demands to the possessed Prince. Of course, he had no intention of listening to the beleaguered dragon. Princess or not, the demon bore no desire to release her, for it knew that she was powerless to stop him. Its yearnings only amplified Casimir's own, even as it struggled to maintain control over the physical vessel that it had taken hold upon. The man that tortured and manhandled her was not the Prince of Emmeria— yet it could be argued that it was his truest form. The Lion's darkest desires, multiplied and befallen upon the Princess.

"GO TO HELL!"

Those words that defiantly crackled from the Princess' quivering vocal chords was music to the demon's ears. It thrived off of the fear and raw emotions of its victims... and perhaps for the first time, Casimir could sense the dribbles of terror that swelled within the defenseless Princess. As Nyla threw herself forwards, Casimir deigned not to combat her struggle, instead releasing his greedy stranglehold upon her hair. He allowed her to fly forwards, watching as she attempted to throw herself over the couch. He would enjoy watching her clamoring, taking particular interest in how terror caused one's almost complete degradation of fine motor skills. How her overwhelming desperation caused her to struggle in accomplishing such a simple feat.

It wasn't until she had almost stumbled over the couch that Casimir reached out, unceremoniously capturing her ankle before crudely pulling her back towards him with a single tug. She would be powerless to stop him, only able to struggle in spirit as the Prince swept one arm behind both of hers, interlocking them against the bend of her back. In a sharp motion, Casimir, rolled her over, until their previous positions were made reverse. Casimir was now sitting once more in the seat, with Nyla's arms and back hovering deeper into his chest. With her newfound position, she would be able to feel the Prince's warm exhalations brush against the back of her neck, his ironclad strength holding both of her arms firmly in place.

Worst of all, she would be able to see her reflection in a large standing mirror positioned just across from her, along with that devilish grin which continued to happily torment the Princess.

"Just remember: you brought this fate upon yourself." The demon growled, the dark reverberations of his voice rumbling straight into the Princess' ear. While such a statement might have disregarded the actual truth, that didn't stop the Prince from wholeheartedly believing it. "Setting your eyes upon another man: That man." He bit his lip, annoyed, "I should have killed him. I could have made him scream so nicely for you. "

Slowly, the tips of Casimir's shoes craftily wove themselves behind Nyla's heels, locking themselves against her feet before the Prince used his lower body strength to forcefully pry Nyla's legs apart. He spread his own legs, forcing Nyla's own to follow him as they pressed into opposite ends at the foot of the couch. She would find herself bound completely by the Prince's overwhelming strength, unable to resist or close her legs... and soon, she would be able to see in the mirror that hand which had smacked her so crudely beginning to make its way down towards her legs.

"I will teach you the price of resisting me. Until you learn your place." Soon, his hand had made its way between her open legs, dexterous fingertips prodding ever so carefully against his prize. Those powerful digits which had killed men, gripped her hair, smacked her... they now touched upon her unprotected folds, carefully teasing the edges of that forbidden virginity.

"You have resisted me at every turn. Humiliated me. You bear my collar, yet you have chosen another man." The Prince bit at the Princess' ear as he spoke, his fingers still running up and down those puffy, outer walls. "You. Will. Learn..." With that, those appendages which hungrily rolled against her forbidden spot soon delved within. First a single finger, pushing its way inside before being crudely joined by a second.

"...Your place as a woman." He added, as masculine fingers pressed deeper into her glistening sex. The Prince wondered if this was something that the Princess had ever done to herself, if she was less pure than the propaganda made her out to seem. Either way, his fingers pushed deeper, before deviously curling themselves upwards as they slowly and methodically searched for that spot.

Passion · Sep 9, 2023

The demon and prince were aligned in their desires, which meant the princess had little chance to turn the tables despite her unrelenting resolve and imperial position. Her tongue shot venomous words, and her spite for the prince reverberated with each syllable, jerk, and breath. She was seeing red.

As soon as he lessened his grip, Nyla scrambled to try to make her escape. Usually, the trained princess was quite deft, but primal fear had her stumbling and tripping over herself. While she could handle the pressure of battle and regal duties, she could not find her ground after all she had witnessed and after being exposed in such an indecent matter. unfortunately for the princess, the demon didn't just wish to disgrace her by stripping her.

He snatched her ankle and dragged the petite woman back into his clutches. His frightened prey yelped and tried to kick away. It was futile. The prince used his strength against her to capture her arms and put her back in a compromising position. This time, she would find herself staring into a mirror with the prince behind her. The reflection was haunting enough that the mere sight caught her breath for a second. Her own image burned into her memories: teary eyed, body shaking, hair tangled, and, of course, naked. Internally, her ego was being torn apart. This was not how a future empress should look or handle a difficult situation! Even in the heat of the moment, Nyla was giving herself a hard time. It wasn't every day one saw a bunch of dead comrades to then be whisked away to be tormented by her rival turned foe... yet, she hated seeing her image tied to vulnerability.

This was the first time a man had seen her naked. It was so embarrassing—so much so that she tried to rip her arms away in a panic to cover her modestly sized and perky breasts. She wouldn't even get an inch from him, locked in place by his unwavering hold. When he spoke, and her entire body tensed and her breath trembled. Clearly, he had already left quite the impression on her. However, he wouldn't easily snuff out her royal and dragon-like spirit. "Killing him would be pointless; I would never belong to a monster! Never!!!" She growled under her breath and whipped her body forward to try to flail away.

"Unhand me and cover me up this instant!" Again with the demands, but why would they be listened to this time?

To her horror, he would further expose her by prying open her legs. She tried to stop him; her thigh muscles burned as she attempted to keep her legs closed. As her milky thighs were forced open, her distress rose. Her heart started to pound so hard that she could feel her pulse throughout her entire body, and her breathing turned into soft panting. The tears she refused to shed stung her eyes, and she used them to her advantage to blur out the disturbing reflection before them.

His hand wandered across untouched flesh towards her shapely thighs...

"Cas...imir...," she breathed, her voice resounding with heart.
A single word, but her harrowing tone alone begged for mercy when her ego refused.

He'd steal her breath with a single touch; his sinful hand on her feminine purity. She was soft, groomed, and slightly damp from all the adrenaline that this horrific night continued to pump in her. In response, Nyla whimpered in a tone that was far from that of a woman of power. She already felt utterly violated.

"I-I..." The usually clever woman found herself tongue-tied and blurred. His reasoning was so off and personal that she couldn't think of a proper rebuttal while under so much pressure. Nyla knew that she didn't actually do anything wrong. but there was no way she was going to get the demonic prince to see her reasoning especially while in a stupor.

His finger dived between her folds, and Nyla cried out in shock. How was this even happening? "St-stop! Don't!" He would slip another finger inside of her, her body twisting and bending to try to pull away to get him to stop. It felt so strange, wrong, and with his aim, he felt much more impactful than the times her slender fingers tried to relieve her own feminine heat.

Her voice raised to a distressed scream, "Stop touching me, you monster! I am the future empress!" Realizing how quickly this was escalating, she became desperate. She didn't want to be seen in such a state, but it didn't matter. It was now or never...

The princess rebelled by letting out a high-pitched scream to try to alert anyone and everyone near. She wished to be saved or to at least have a bit of wiggle room, but she feared for the life of anyone brave enough to step in. She could tell Casimir had no plans to let her go.

Saint · Sep 12, 2023

The frustrated desperation that mounted in the Princess' voice only served to encourage her captor further, those dexterous appendages curling and prodding deep against that forbidden slit. Her whimpers, her pleas, her anger. Casimir thoroughly enjoyed every moment of Nyla's struggle against him. Every moment of her resistance would only add new plights to her already compromising position. Those fingers moving more freely and with confidence — their pace and vigor dangerously increasing until those vulgar sounds were impossible to ignore. That crude, indecent squelching from calloused digits roughly digging themselves against the Princess' glistening sex.

"Yes. The future Empress." Casimir repeated her words softly back into her ear, his devilish whispers interspersed between those embarrassing sounds of wettening fingertips. "Do you know what that means?" The onslaught of invasive digits finally ceased, his fingers drawing upwards into Nyla's vision to reveal the webs of sweet, hot nectar that had been interwoven between each finger.

"That it is your place as a woman to secure your bloodline." He cooed mischievously, pausing to allow his words to sink deeper into Nyla's thoughts. All the while, those fingers which had danced eagerly between her folds came closer to her face, until they teased the bottom of her lower lip, creasing against those soft pillows and applying a fresh layer of sticky humiliation to the mouth which continued to speak so defiantly against him.

"Don't worry, little Empress. I will be sure to gift you with many heirs." That hand that teased her lips was now pressing deeper against that pursed barrier, applying incremental pressure until those fingers were practically prying her lips apart. "No matter how desperately you beg me to stop. No matter how loudly you curse me. I will break you. I will make you mine." Those two fingers which happily violated the Princess' forbidden femininity just moments ago were now delving uncomfortably deep against the center of her mouth, pinning her slick tongue down to the base as they crawled ever so slowly further back.

Deeper and deeper. Those two digits traversed back, only stopping once he could feel her throat convulse in an attempt to expel the intruder— until he could hear that wonderful, melodic sound of choking grace his ears. Whether the reaction came from the taste of her own honeysweet nectar, or if it came from the depth of his intrusive fingertips, the result satisfied the unapologetic sadist all the same.

And whether she would attempt to bite down on those invasive fingers, or try her best to resist their oppressive depth, the result would be all the same. In his current form, there was no pain that Nyla could inflict that would make the possessed creature budge, though he welcomed the attempt wholeheartedly.

"I will teach you all of the joys of womanhood." Finally, the assault against her throat by those fingers ceased, but instead of reprieve, Nyla would be overwhelmed by her attacker once again. Casimir unlocked his legs from her own, before standing up, pulling the Princess along with him. Before she knew it, she would find herself barreling across the room, being pushed towards the side of his bed with those powerful, dominating hands. No matter how hard she would try to resist, Nyla would be thrust face-first against the duvet, her face smothered into the soft covers as the Prince pressed himself behind her.

With a single hand, he pinned the back of her head against the bed, while the hand that was still drenched in a vulgar concoction of juices and saliva reached towards his shoulder. Quickly, the Prince tore the golden horsebraids which dangled proudly from his military uniform, before using the ornate rope to bind Nyla's wrists behind her back. It would only be after her wild hands were securely fastened into their helpless position that Casimir would finally turn her over, forcing her to gaze up at him as his hands began to unclasp the buttons of his shirt.

"Before you scream and beg, just know this, Princess." Slowly, his hands drew each of those buttons open, until he was tossing his coat and undershirt to the side to reveal a chiseled silhouette. "...That you brought this upon yourself. You should have never resisted me. Humiliated me." His well-defined musculature was already covered in a myriad of scars, each one possessing a harrowing tale of pain. At the center of them all, near his heart, was the largest of the scars, which glowed a faint, ominous red. Already healed, it had been the place that the assassin's blade had pierced not too long ago.

But that would be the least of Nyla's concerns.

Those hands that hungrily manhandled her continued downwards, until they found themselves traversing to her eye level. Slowly, they found his belt, before the Prince began to unclasp his waistband.

Even the Princess must have known what he intended for her.

Passion · Sep 12, 2023

There was a lot the princess in distress struggled to process and cope with, but one of the most puzzling matters was her body. Why is it that the longer his touch was on her, the more he violated her... the wetter she became? Right under her fear and anger, pleasure bloomed. The heat that brewed within Nyla hinted to a much more pleasant path, but to embrace it would be disgraceful, wouldn't it?

The prince wasn't her only new enemy, but herself; instincts pressured the inexperienced princess to experience new aspects of herself if she would just accept her fate. However, Nyla wouldn't entirely give up until she had no other choice. The woman was an enduring one. Trained as a knight, she was not as sheltered as typical royals, but it was obvious that he touched upon a weakness of hers. Still, if she couldn't be strong in body, she would try to be strong in mind and spirit, even if the night had already drained so much of her.

The prince's fingers slipped out of her depths, and Nyla felt relief and... displeasure?! While she didn't understand, her body did. Left on edge and stimulated, a part of her cried for him, yet she spoke so loudly against him. He would show her what she didn't want to accept. Her timid gaze darted away, not wanting to see the flustering evidence of her body's betrayal. Although she refused to look, he would make her taste. The woman attempted to jerk her head away as he smeared her leftover lipstick with her forbidden lust.

While her upset was growing, pure rage nearly gripped her when he implied that he would be the father of her children. Boiling with hate, a growl shifted into a scream, "You.... BASTAR-!" Her ability to speak was stolen from her; her tongue pinned down. She would try to shake her head free, whimpering in both upset and irritation to be silenced. What she didn't know was that he planned to do more than hold her tongue.

His fingers slid back, and her eyes widened in a horrified surprise. Her breath stilled, her body twitched, and then she started to choke. The tears that were welled up in her eyes finally ran free and rolled down her cheeks. She thrashed, desperately trying to free herself from the shocking discomfort. Anything more than a few seconds, and the frightened and gagging princess would bite down hard enough to make the average man think twice, but not even violence would stop the possessed prince.

Her teeth would let go once she felt his fingers pulling back. She coughed, sobbed, and gagged, unable to easily catch her breath. Saliva dripped from the corner of her lips and onto her bust as she panted heavily, which made her last glance into the mirror a haunting one. Dazed, she felt as if they had teleported to his bed. Having her arms free, she tried to push herself up, but as soon as she did, his strong, possessive grip found the back of her head. Face first to the blanket she went, left blinded and breathless.

Her arms were gathered and secured behind her, and she pulled and twisted hard against the braid as if her life depended on it. So desperate to grasp her lost freedom, her wrists and arms would redden, and she would be left with bracelets of bruising in the morning from her attempt to break free. Flipped over, she was fully exposed to him, but after his suggestion of heirs, the sadistic nature he showed her, and being physically helpless, the prince seeing her nude was nothing.

Her fear was spreading. "No! No! No!" She stared up at him with a pitiful and teary look, her eyes glistening with more tears. "Yo-ou are wrong! This is-s wrong!" He would see the princess known for her placid demeanor continue to crack. "You mu-must reconsider! My fa-father will have y-you hanged for this-s!" Despite the terror in her voice and the way her body trembled under him, Nyla was leaving a wet spot on the bedding between her thighs. Her adrenaline was off the charts, and it had her blood rushing, especially towards her unsated core. Still, the stubborn woman would try to kick off the bed to scoot and gain some space, or even try to fall off the bed just to get away.

Saint · Sep 15, 2023

The increasing fear that emerged from the Princess' plight brought about more of her venomous threats, each one more ineffectual than the next. Casimir would merely scoff at her vocal attempts to protect herself, such desperation serving little more than to show just how truly powerless Nyla was. That distinct, quiver in her silhouette, along with the tremble within her voice. The demon enjoyed prying such weakness out from underneath the Princess. He enjoyed slowly breaking apart that once indefatigable pride of hers, overwhelming her until she would finally... crack.

"Hang me? Is that so? Well, I'll look forward to it." He remarked simply, a wide, mad grimace still painted across his portrait. "No. Was it not your father who placed you into this position in the first place? He threw you to the hyenas, so that they could squabble and fight over you—" The Prince cackled at the thought. It was perhaps the one thing that they possessed in common. A father that cared not for their children, but only for their legacy and their own carnal desires. Their fathers were like their Gods. Omnipotent, cruel and punishing, drawing upon their destinies like they were toys to be played with.

Yet, where her upbringing had made Nyla proud and noble, Casimir instead became brooding and vindictive.

"—You should be happy, that instead you will be taken by a lion." As she attempted to push herself away from him, she would find her ankles captured once again by that vigorous, predatorial grip. Hungrily they clawed at her legs, taking indomitable purchase of her before pulling her closer into him; and when she was too close, those hands traversed upwards to her waist. He tugged her closer towards him still, until her legs were forced to part around him, until the folds of her slick chastity was pressing uncomfortably against the Prince's own crotch.

With his waistband drawn open, only a single, thin layer of fabric guarded the Princess from the hardened bulge that belied his undergarments. He made sure that it pressed firmly against her slit, partially spreading her folds around that terrifying intruder. He pressed until he could feel those dribbles of unwanted arousal begin to pass through and further excite the twitching mast which had been pulling his loins uncomfortably taut.

"Oh? What's wrong, your Highness?" The Prince teased upon seeing the tears welling in the Princess' gaze, his words unequivocally drenched in sarcasm. "Are you all out of threats? Come now, what happened to those clever insults?" He beckoned her, those crimson eyes beaming hungrily upon her as his lips descended dangerously close once more. "Perhaps you will think of something while I ravage you." With that, his lips crashed upon hers in a deep, aggressive kiss. Lips interlocked, he canted his head so that his slick muscle could fork between her lips and crawl deeper. His tongue would force itself upon her own, pinning and lapping, finding a new place to exert dominance and ownership over her as it locked itself upon her own tongue, the muffled reverberations of his primal growls reaching deep and echoing down her own, wavering vocal chords.

All the while, the Prince made sure to grind against her, introducing her chaste femininity to an obscenely vulgar motion. That twitching boulder, hidden beneath his undergarments, slickened by a coat of her own juices, pressed uncomfortably deep as he rolled his waist to-and-fro. He wanted to tease her, to let her know that if he truly wanted, he could fucking ruin her. He wanted her to feel the fear of not only his overwhelming power over her, but the betrayal of her own body as well.

That is how the Princess would be broken. Not by simply forcing himself upon her, but to teach her the thrill of being hunted.

When lips would finally pull apart, a crude trail of saliva would still be interwoven between their lips, webbed vulgarly between their tongues. "When I am done with you tonight, you will apologize." His hands that roamed her body tightened. Once again, they were clawing at her, pulling her body and positioning the once all-powerful Princess however he desired. He turned her in place, her bound hands giving her little opportunity to resist as her position was reversed completely. Soon, she would find herself gazing upon her attacker from an upturned angle, her head dangling off of the side of the bed. She would find her eyes placed at upside-down crotch level, hanging uncomfortably close to that bulge which had tormented her so freely.

"And you will learn to never humiliate me ever fucking again." A single thumb slipped underneath the band to his undergarments, before pulling them slightly downwards to expose the full mast of manhood that hid beneath. It would come surging outwards, that throbbing slab of pure masculinity, weighty and riddled with cable-thick veins of pulsating, royalpure blood. From her position, she would be able to see nothing else, her gaze smothered beneath its formidable shadow; the possessed Prince beaming down upon her with voracious and unsatisfied eyes.

"I will give you one more chance. I want to hear your apology. Scream it."

The only thing that might save her now would be complete and utter subservience.

Passion · Sep 16, 2023

There was no threat quite like saying the emperor himself would bring justice, but they both knew deep down that it wouldn't be out of her father's caring heart if it was to come to that. It would more than likely be about lowering her worth as a woman.

Nyla had been untouched; it was even more ingrained in her to remain so due to her position. Still, it puzzled her why the prince would even risk such a thing, but little did Nyla know that when push came to shove, could she even admit what had happened? Wouldn't it be better to pretend it didn't than to confess a tainted truth? Not only would it lower her 'worth', but it would hurt her image as a strong woman. Despite the odds, she believed she had to be powerful enough to win her own hand in marriage. It was the only way remain independent and lead the empire as a woman despite her father's and society's misogynistic views.

The way Nyla would cringe at the mention of her father which hinted the topic was a soft spot. What a surprise, the princess had daddy issues. While Nyla wasn't a very warm person, she had more of a heart than her father. She had been personally hurt by the ordeal since, as far as she knew, she was going to lead one day on her own accord, yet when push came to shove with her father's illness, he issued the decree that had tormented her ever since he had enacted it.

He would make her forget it all. Forced to focus on the present since every touch from him was making waves, but when the prince and princess were positioned with their lower halves pressing against one another, those ripples turned into tidal waves. A dizzy spell had her dark gaze looking distant, but she refused to fall into any lull that secretly could give her peace. Her body continued to send a conflicting message, just being pressed up against her left a lingering wet mark on the fabric separating them. Never had Nyla's body longed to such a degree.

It was hard to speak; he knew this, and so he taunted her with this fact. It was hard to think under pressure, left hanging on one second at a time, all while caught under his thumb. The thing was, Nyla didn't need words to express her disdain for him and the overall situation. The air was thick with tension, and the way her gaze flickered to anger, fear, unwelcome lust, and dissociation reflected the turmoil he was causing.

As soon as their lips connected, Nyla's breath was stolen. Every time he did something new that crossed the line had her scrambling. Trying to jerk her head away, she hummed against his lips in vexation. "MMMM!!!" Her tongue wrestled with his, but it backfired and made the aggressive kiss even more in-depth. Never having been kissed in such a way, her heart hammered, and she was left slightly lightheaded as she forgot to breathe the entire time they were lip-locked.

Her body trembled when he boldly rubbed himself against her. Speaking to her bluntly, he was a breath away from violating her deeply and claiming her purity if he wished it. Never before had Nyla felt so helpless. While her mind refused to focus on it, the state of her vulnerability wasn't the only all-time high she was reaching; it was also her desire.

Repositioned, she was left looking up at the possessed prince. Her head hanging off the end of the bed gave her a bit of a headrush, which didn't quite help her awestruck state. The position brought more color to her face, her messy locks hanging down towards the floor. "I already told you; I wasn't trying to humiliate you! Even if I were, do you really think this is an acceptable punishment?!" It wasn't, not by a long shot, but she could also hear the conviction in his words that he was without regret or remorse; he truly believed she deserved this. He was the one calling the shots.

To further back up his threats, he would expose herself to the princess. Another first. She could practically feel the heat of his lust for her radiating down on her face, and she would pick up on a personal scent that would stain her memory. She stared, unblinking, at the intimidating masculinity that lusted for her surrender.

He gave her a chance; however, at this point, would that even alter her fate much? Her eyes closed in thought as she tried to mentally escape the moment to just think for a second, which was much more taxing than she'd ever imagined. There was a chance that if she accepted his twisted reality and played along, she could possibly get him to show some mercy. Nonetheless, it did not change the fact that he would still defile her like he already had.

She was fed up.
An inner storm rolled in.

She exhaled, "I hate you..." Her eyes flashed open with the embers of spirit burning in her. The woman still had books. "I hate you." She turned her upper body to look right around the mass above her. One look in her eyes would show the woman was fuming with wrath. If looks could kill, he would be on the ground, cold and blue. "I hate YOU!"

He would get a scream out of her, alright:
"I HATE YOU!"

Clearly. Nyla still wasn't playing nice. While cracking under pressure, it awakened her rage. From the outside, many saw Nyla as pretty apathetic and cool, yet in reality, the princess was always on edge. She got tired of her position. Everyone watched her every move; she couldn't show much emotion or weakness, and she always kept herself in line and on top of her strenuous training. She didn't have any instinctive freedom; everything was calculated.

However, most of her bottled fury was connected to her father. Only knowing her own life as a princess, she never realized how atypical her relationship with her father was. She thought the man loved her and believed in her enough that she would rightfully take the throne at her own discretion when it was time. Her father instead issued the decree. She felt betrayed and hurt, left wondering if her father didn't think she would be good enough and realizing he didn't love her in the way she thought.

It wasn't just him;
she had so much bottled.... HATE.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" The woman s n a p p e d.; she was blinded by red. She kicked around and thrashed as she screamed in hatred. Her inner dragon was out of control and breathing fire. Nyla did not surrender with grace, was without clever insults, but instead turned raw. The prince didn't just see her body naked, but her actual self.

Saint · Sep 16, 2023

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" The wide grimace that had once been painted across Casimir's face dissipated in an instant, his gaze now reflecting his own, seething annoyance. Nyla's continued defiance should have been expected and yet, he had thought that the sheltered Princess might have folded underneath his pressure. When she didn't, it certainly fueled frustration that not even he had been prepared for. He would allow the Princess to kick and scream, though eventually, he would choose to meet the Princess' anger in kind.

All he could think of was ruining her.

As she screamed seemingly incessantly, that engorged, thick cockhead which had been her pursed royal pillows drew backwards. Hips retreated slowly back before suddenly ramming against her already splitting jaw. In a single motion, he had thrust himself throat deep against the brunt of his obscene masculinity. Her hate-fueled tirade was muffled instantly, her vocal chords now contending with the throbbing mast of pulsating flesh that had wedged itself against the back of her throat. In a single motion, those glaring eyes which loathed him had disappeared underneath him, her face buried at crotch level, her nose and the center of her visage smothered within his scrotum.

"You just never learn, do you?" He growled out once more in frustration, both rows of teeth grinding against one another as he brutishly rammed himself against the back of Nyla's windpipe. There was no mercy to be had between them, the Prince sparing no moment's hesitation as he placed both of his hands upon the Princess' neck. He held her down with a firm, commanding grip, his hips holding their place as those sloppy, tight walls constricted themselves upon his shape, repurposing the spasms which came from her screaming into his own pleasure.

"Just know that you brought this upon yourself. That this is punishment for resisting me at every turn." With that, that throbbing, objectifying fucklog soon found itself drawing backwards, once again providing respite to Nyla's already bruised esophagus as his masculinity retreated from her lips. Yet, as her lips were on the verge of gliding free from that upreared, bulbous glans, the Prince would instead slam himself against her once more, decorating Nyla's sophisticated, royal palate with the taste of the man she thoroughly despised.

Then he would do it again... and again...

Schlick! Schlop! Schlick! That obscene, deprave noise resounded in the air as Casimir continued to thrust his hips back and forth, mercilessly hollowing out the Princess' cheeks and pounding deeper against the back of her throat. Each thrust forced Nyla to guzzle down every inch and centimeter of that twitching, royal mastodon, each thrust crudely burying that pretty face of hers into the base of his groin. All the while, his hands roamed and caressed her body, first squeezing her throat before trailing upwards towards her chest. Those powerful, dominating hands would take each of her breasts before crudely squeezing, applying incremental pressure until those soft, pliable mounds of ivory perfection were practically bulging between greedy fingertips.

Between all of this, he reveled in her convulsions and throatspasms as she attempted to resist his onslaught. That engorged cockhead would continue to pierce into the back of her throat, over and over again, almost rhythmically, each muscle within Nyla's throat forced to fit each contour and momentary deformity that mapped the Prince's cock. Nyla would soon be forced to learn to take every reprieve awarded to her in the retreat of that oversized shape from the deepest vestiges of her throat, for it was in those, short moments that she would learn to take the opportunity to breathe.

But it was in each of those moments of brief respite that her warm spittle would froth at the edge of her lips, before sputtering and cascading downwards around the flanks of her face. Such a scene would only be made worse when Casimir would finally pull himself free a final time, his shape lathered in her drool.

Passion · Sep 16, 2023

The entire night had been life-altering for Nyla. Losing the dual, the bloodshed, the assault, taking in the sight of the one she desired most looking at her with disgust, the constant gnawing reminder of her father, and anything else that may come on this cruel night was crushing to the poor girl. She was stunned, distressed, somber, and... wrathful.

What made Nyla distinct was that she was meant to be the strongest woman in the entire empire; she was the imperial princess. If anyone in the damn empire was going to fight with a raging spirit, it should be Nyla. From their battles, Casimir should know that the princess would fight until she couldn't.

But.... how much more could she take?

Drained already, both physically and mentally, all she could do was throw a wild tantrum as a last resort. If he could look at her beyond exasperation, he would see that she was unraveling before his very eyes. Before him was a crumbling woman, bleeding with soul. A soul that he could scar for a lifetime. While he couldn't control her speech or entirely topple her pride, it did not change the fact that she was utterly helpless before the demonic prince and couldn't resist forever.

Screaming and throwing her body was all Nyla could do to express her disarray, and so she did it intensely. She'd only shut up when he forced his way down her throat. Instantly, Nyla both gagged and gurgled. Her jaw left aching, and she choked on his oversized masculinity. Much like when he forced his fingers in her mouth, she'd try to bite, which probably had a similar ineffectiveness as before, but her teeth wouldn't clamp on for long. She would stop just to try to open her mouth more to breathe.

With his hands around her neck, her eyes rolled back as she was stripped of even more control. He had already hindered her movement, but now he was the very commander of her breath. Easily, he could crush her slender throat or suffocate her, and it was in this breathless moment that a new, cold reality started to settle into her mind. - He had so much power and control over the dwindling woman that he had become the ruler of her fate while she lay powerless and tainted. Her very life was in the palms of his hands.

The tides were turning, most evident by her legs, which had stopped kicking so violently, only to tense and twitch as she ceased fighting to instead attempt to endure. Her throat tightened in convulsion, and tears from being purely overwhelmed ran along her upside-down face to rain between his feet.

He had found a devastating pace, one that filled her with hope and air when he pulled back, but only to be viciously slammed back into, leaving her jerking and convulsing. When he slid back, between her panting and gurgles, he would hear desperate whimpers instead of rebellious growls. - She was learning.

It was so much to endure, and so the princess focused on the sensation of her wandering hands on her pale, soft flesh. It was comforting in a twisted way; it contradicted her abused throat. Her perky breasts with soft pink centers were tender and malleable in his strong hands. Her toes curled when her bust was given a squeeze while her throat was stuffed.

Little did she know that she would continue to leave marks of her lust between her thighs. Her body was confused but associated the intensity and the stimulation he delivered as exciting, having her lust burning along with her upset.

Finally, he would unsheathe himself from her tight throat, and Nyla would gasp heavily for lost air. Between those heavy breaths, she would whine and tremble in dazed and panicked defeat. She squirmed just enough to get her head back on the bed, and if able, she would roll on her side and half curl up in the fetal position. She was trying to recover, but would her rebellion come back if she did?

"Enough! N-No more!" Her eyes closed tightly. "I'm sorry that I humiliated you, but you have to believe me; it wasn't my intent!" She sniffled, unable to get the taste of him out of her mouth.

"I always admired your determination as a knight. It has pushed me to train hard. I don't believe this is you. We never got along the best, but do you really think I'd try to humiliate you to the point this abuse equates?!" Casimir always had a blunt way about him, but the princess couldn't wrap her mind around him being actually possessed. She foolishly blamed adrenaline from the fight for his strength and endurance.

She started to sob. "You have to believe me! I am sorry and wouldn't!" Just like she wouldn't have killed all those who had fallen this night despite the way it was being framed. Her voice squeaked, "Please...!"

It felt like the whole world was turning on her. She had nowhere to lean or go.

....How did she become so pathetic?

Saint · Sep 22, 2023

Throughout the extent of her humiliation, Nyla teetered upon the precipice, that once stalwart and proud soul now wavering as the Prince displayed no intention of stopping. But now, between those trembling whimpers that dribbled from her vocal chords every time his hands pressed their weight upon her, she would finally show the first signs of cracking. He remained silent as she pleaded for his forgiveness, each of those terrified, desperate words sounding like music to the demon's ears. Unfortunately for her, Casimir was not done making her sing.

"Shhhhh." He cooed softly, pretending to calm the terrified Princess. "I forgive you." His gentle, soothing words would be betrayed by the wide, maleficent grimace that still curled from ear to ear. He watched as she curled herself into a fetal position, very slowly following her as he climbed up upon the bed behind her. Again, those hands would fall upon her, gently at first as if to calm her. Those hands roamed the crux of her exposed back, before suddenly taking purchase of the Princess' waist. Suddenly, he was pulling her upwards, until she would have no choice but to settle upon all fours.

"Don't worry, I understand that your purity has political value." He leaned over her, his voice calm, but his words hoping to instill terror into Nyla nonetheless, "Imagine, the future Empress siring a bastard," He cooed, his soft whispers reverberating straight into his victim's ear. "well, we wouldn't want that, right? Ever so carefully, one of his hands made its way behind her, before two fingers once more prodded at her exposed femininity. He wanted her to know that he was in control, that he could take everything from her if he desired it.

"But— if you aren't punished, then you will not learn." Even as she begged him to stop, Casimir could feel her resistance crumbling, even her body betraying her as her glistening slit was wetter than even he could have ever anticipated. "Luckily, there are other ways that we can tame you." Any semblance of Casimir showing mercy had been dispelled in an instant, one hand gripping her bindings to suspend her in place as those two fingers which had been circling her drooling slit drew upwards... reaching ever so slowly up until they found a new entrance to torture.

"Admiration? Did you not say that you hated me?" Those fingers, still drenched in the Princess' love juices, began to swirl and touch upon that twitching hole which peered upwards in his direction. "It's okay, I will teach you how to be more honest." He growled out once more, before his face retreated backwards, away from Nyla's own so that he could better turn his attentions towards her upturned rear-end.

Each of his greedy, masculine hands would press upon her ivory cheeks. Gripping them tightly as he normally did before prying them even further apart, until he could see that winking star that was buried beneath. He had assumed that a woman of her stature would have kept herself clean— and was thus unsurprised to find that to be the case. His face drew closer, before those voracious, carnal lips produced a wad of saliva, which he allowed to flow freely as he spat a dose of hot spittle to coat that little spot.

Wasting no time for Nyla to realize what he was planning and try to lash out once again, he took up position behind her, positioning the bulbous tip of that already saliva-drenched fuckspear against her. Carefully, he pressed that engorged, thick glans of his froth-coated shape against that tight, puckered starfish, applying incremental pressure against her as he attempted to fit his sizable girth into the impossibly tight orifice.

"Fuuck." He moaned out a string of vulgar curses underneath his breath as he attempted to press himself deeper, ignoring any screams or sounds of resistance from the Princess as he focused on her tightness. Even with the forceful press of his powerful hips, it seemed like that it was a nigh impossible fit, that he would only succeed in tearing Nyla apart. Even still, he continued to press against her, reveling in every moment of pain that he pushed upon her. He wanted to hear her voice rise to crescendos he had never heard before. Would she scream for him to stop? Or would she plead for mercy? Or would she once again let him know how much she loathed him? The thought of what sounds and thoughts Nyla would produce excited him.

No matter her response, he would continue to push against her, that oversized, upreared tip trying vigorously to gouge out whatever resistance she possessed. It almost seemed as if it would be an impossible fit, unable to take the full girth of that pulsating, brutish monstrosity. There was absolutely no way that upon first glance, that the little Princess would ever believe that such a thing would ever fit, until suddenly:

PLAP! That obscene sound of the Prince's powerful thrust crudely spanking those pliable, rearward cheeks echoed throughout the air, whatever resistance that had once presented itself now defeated completely in a single, bestial SLAM. Instantly, Casimir could feel that tightness now pleasure him, as if repurposing the resistance of her crevice-laden orifice into a living, personal massage parlor for his self-satisfaction. He didn't move at first, content to remain crotch deep inside of her, as she allowed her to cradle every contour and momentary-deformity of his length in the shape of violent twitches and the flexing of taut muscles.

"The next time you attempt to resist me—" As he spoke, his hips would finally make their way backwards, retreating until it seemed like he was about to pull out completely. But he had trained Nyla to know that wouldn't be the case, the soreness of her bruised throat and the taste upon her tongue a stark reminder of what he was about to do next.

"—I want you to remember this." With that, he slammed himself against her rear once more, sending her pliable waves oscillating from that primal impact. He wanted her to understand that Princess or not, this was her place as a woman. And he would teach her, every day if he had to.

𝔼𝕍𝔼ℝ𝕎𝕀ℕ𝕋𝔼ℝ ✧ 𝕂ℕ𝕀𝔾ℍ𝕋𝕊 ; [ ᴘᴀssɪᴏɴ ✟ sᴀɪɴᴛ ]

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