Forced Inheritance (Muse and Dakol)

[Lord Dakol]

Four years have gone by since the shit hit the fan. Malacai was sixteen when his father exiled him to the Outlands. His family was the most powerful people in the kingdom, capable of taking what they wanted and without hesitation. But, Malacai's potential scared his father, noticing that his behavior was too erratic and dangerous. And he forced him to leave. Until now.

On the 16th birthday of Malacai's younger sister, the Prince walked up the path were a drawbridge and a pair of guards were located. His ruffled, pitch-black hair fluttered in the wind as he stared at the guards with eyes of darkened crimson. Along his face and neck was a large birthmark, though it resembled a tribal tattoo with light red ink. Before they could say a word, Malacai unsheathed the silver curved dagger at his hip and killed them, slicing their throats and leaving them as they crumpled to the ground.

The rest of the walk was decidedly boring until he arrived at the doors to the throne room, where kicked open the wooden double doors to reveal his father and sister, who had apparently... grown and gotten older while he was away. At his sister's side was a young man. A noble, from the looks of it.

"Hello, father..." he growled, his eyes brimming with hate and malice as he slowly walked towards them, ignoring the alarmed looks from the guards that readied their weapons.​

 

[hidden_muse]

Colette had been busily discussing the plans for her birthday feast that evening. While she had never been a fan of extravagant affairs, she knew this particular birthday was special. Her father had hinted at it for some time, that she was reaching marrying age. With her brother banished, she was to take on the role of heir and must find a suitor who would make a suitable king.

The cold mention of her brother stirred a familiar sadness in Colette. As a child, she had hopelessly admired and doted on her older sibling, despite his...promiscuous mannerisms. When he had been sent away, she had been devastated. Heartbroken. And in an attempt to please her father, she never mentioned her brother's name in his presence.

So it was, when the doors of the room burst open, she was certain a ghost had appeared. She was the first to react of the three party planners, leaping to her feet in a fury of deep chestnut hair and velvet green fabric. "Malacai!" she yelped, racing towards him. The king's warning shot fell on deaf ears at the jubilation of seeing her brother after so many years.

It wasn't until she sprang on him with a fierce hug that it occurred to her how odd the situation was. Pulling back just slightly, she saw that his dagger was dipped in fresh blood. "What...what are you doing here?" she asked, her excitement tinged with a growing sense of fear.