He had no idea. Not really. It wasn’t in his nature to care for anyone or anything. His soul was blacker than his heart, and he honestly liked it that way and had no desire to change.
No entanglements. Just him and his vengeance quest. He’d never wanted company or even conversation.
All he wanted was to behead the beast for Dash and go back to his solitary ways.
But the one thing he knew about creatures like Gisela, she wouldn’t stop as long as she had a mission.
Because we’re just alike.
Only he wasn’t as passionate. He did what he did and that was it.
She still had feelings and convictions, which made her dangerous and unpredictable. And the last thing he needed wassuch a person trailing after him, mucking up his mission as she sought to slow him down or stop him.
So, he smirked at his brother. “Better to keep my enemy at my side, in plain sight, than to risk her coming up behind me when I least expect it.”
Masakage winced. “Understood.”
“You still coming with us?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything.” He levitated into his saddle. His long black hair fell to his waist as his powers perfectly draped his robes around him.
Xaydin rolled his eyes. “Should I call you princess from now on?”
“Only if you do so in a loving manner.”
Stifling a laugh, Xaydin went to pay for the horse. Hopefully, Gisela would be a bit more appreciative than his brother.
“Can I help you…” The stable master drew up short as he caught sight of Xaydin. His greenish-tinted skin paled noticeably. “Your Highness.” He fell into a proper bow.
“Please, don’t.” Those formalities angered him. “I’m no prince.”
The stable master glanced about nervously before he whispered, “You’ll always be our prince.”
He appreciated the loyalty. But such words were dangerous. His uncle would have both their heads if he ever caught wind of this conversation. Not that Xaydin really cared about himself. He’d welcome the fight.
No, he waswantingthat fight. Nothing would please him more than to feel his uncle’s blood on his hands. The only thing that saved that beast’s life was the fact that he didn’t want the crown.
Oh, the irony of that.
His uncle had killed his father for something Xaydin would have handed over to him had he only asked. Power had never appealed to him. Not in any way.
In fact, his last conversation with his father had been over that very truth.
You will be king. It’s your destiny.
It was one he might have embraced had his father not sent him off as a hostage. Meara’s court had soured him forever on power and royalty.
Now…
His father was dead, and he was technically a fugitive. A very public one, but a fugitive, nonetheless. It was why he chose to stay in Vaskalia. Forever a thorn in his uncle’s ass.
Anger boiled inside him, but he forced it down and focused on what he needed to do.
“I’m here to buy your finest horse and a saddle.”
The stable master’s eyes widened. “Of course, High…my lord.” He scurried away.
Xaydin peered outside where Masakage waited.
