Blood Moon's Paroxysm

Chapter 4

With his training mood gone, Casteel returned to his study and commenced on the work his father assigned to him. He sat with his legs up on the desk informally and drank the tea brought in by his butler to forget all the guilt he felt during that event. It's hard for him to forget those eyes glaring at him with hatred.

He fiddled on the pages of a random book on his desk as he struggled to maintain his focus.

Something was leading his focus out of his mind, though he can't quite figure out which of the many problems he's having was causing that.

He thought of Rebella who's still locked in the palace's dungeon.

The concerns forced him to stand up abruptly for no reason at all.

One moment he's sitting on a seat struggling to maintain focus, the other he was lingering around the room aimlessly.

His gaze brushed the flowers outside of his window, planted by the old gardener who passed away a few years ago. The flowers had always been pretty in every way that for some reason, it reminded him of Rebella.

He shook his head, shaking her name off his mind. Then, he turned to the coat hung beside the guest's seat. A coat which he'd sometimes wear to meet with her.

And he wondered if he'll ever get to meet her again.

However much he'd do to save her life, he wasn't sure if she'd ever talk to him again.

One thing he knew for sure was that she wouldn't get executed, and he wouldn't allow that to happen.

He turned to face the mirror across the room. He locked his eyes on himself as he plodded closer to his reflection.

The prince offered a hand to the reflection in the mirror and bowed, "I apologize for all the foolish mistakes and awful hurt that I'd made you suffer through-"

He broke off with his brows narrowed. Not knowing what to continue with, he cursed under his breath and started over.

He gestured himself further away from the mirror and fixed his collars. Taking a deep breath, he opened his arms in a friendly manner, "Good to see you again-"

He broke off again, clenching his fist out of the awkwardness.

When he finally found the courage to begin another sentence, he pressed one hand to his chest and another behind his back, saying, "My dear lady, I am the worst man-"

A knock sounded at his door, he turned in an instant, almost failing to resist a flinch. He would've been embarrassed to let someone know that he's practicing ways to apologize to a lady.

"Come in," he responded, walking back to his seat as he fixed his clothes.

His butler stepped in after a bow and greeting, then proceeded to rush over to his desk.

"Your majesty, the prisoner has escaped from captivity."

For a moment, those words were a muffle to the prince, he didn't care about the following sentence after the word prisoner had been mentioned.

How could they remark Rebella as a filthy being? He thought.

"Your majesty?" The butler repeated the news once more when he noticed the prince's mind lingering out of the conversation.

Only until this moment, the prince realized how screwed up his plans were.

He froze in silence as he felt a shiver running down his spine.

She escaped, which meant that he would have to fight her in order to stop her.

And...

He can't fight her.