"Divine ability, huh?"
It's been an hour since the meeting, and I've been back in my room, mind reeling from the overdrive of information I had to process. However, out of everything: politics, alliances, my own damn engagement. One thing stuck with me the most... Divine ability.
Why? It's simple, really. I understood why I was suddenly named heir to Vangardia's throne, although I'm quite sure I was heir long before I ever heard about it. I understood why the alliance with the demons was necessary. I understood, despite disagreeing, the urgency of my marriage to Princess Ariana. Even though I believe there are better ways to form an alliance than tying two teenagers with vows and legal papers, it's whatever.
But two things. Two things stood out to me. One being, why I dreamt of Ariana dying in my arms before I ever met her. And two, being the 'Divine ability' I supposedly have.
The dream? Filed under creepy coincidences. Nightmares that mean nothing. Right? Dreams aren't real. They don't mean anything. That's what I told myself, anyway.
I placed my hand under my chin, continuing to read my own body. "...A Divine ability."
"A gift from the Princeps themselves?" I murmured while cocking my hip to the side, studying myself in the mirror.
"I always knew I was special."
I began to undo my bandaging. And if my insides decided to greet the outside, well. That would be pretty unfortunate. But it is what it is.
The wrappings unraveled slowly, sliding down my torso and drifting to the stainless, white marble floor in soft coils. They brushed over my bare feet, the cold tiles sending a quiet shiver up my legs. And when the last strip of linen fell away, what hid beneath the bandages left even me speechless.
Not even a scar?!
I reached back into my memories, trying to identify what spell the assassin used, but no matter how hard I tried. I never heard an incantation. Could it possibly be incantationless magic?
Incantationless magic was a skill only the most powerful individuals, like Father, Auntie, or even the great Merlin, could wield. Casting even the simplest of spells without an incantation was a massive feat. It required much more focus, energy, skill, and most of all... a strong connection to the surrounding arcane energy than a regular incanted spell ever could. Not to mention, incantationless spells pack a stronger punch than their incanted counterparts.
My assassin was no joke; however, the next time I meet them, they will be. Since they won't be catching me off guard again. Hehe.
But if I can't tell what spell they used, how am I supposed to make sense of this? Honestly, I don't even think knowing the spell would help anyway. Surviving a perfect circle through the abdomen is impressive in the first place, which is why I was able to do so.
Divine ability or not, I think I could've survived.
But to not even leave a scar? I continued to twist my body, turning around, and looking over my back, analyzing myself through both the full and bedside mirrors, and even running my hands through my body. But nope. Perfectly smooth skin.
And what bugged me even more was. All my previous scars were gone too, the thin line I got on my chest when my Dad and I were attacked when I was four, the jagged one on my shoulder from sparring with Iliam, getting stabbed with splintered wood when I was eight, and the one on my left knee that I got from recklessly sliding down a small cliff when I was younger. All of them and then some, my body was unscathed like I somehow lived with not so much as a scratch from my birth until now.
Is this the power of my Divine ability? What is it? Immortality? A healing factor? Why would it only kick in now of all times? Which Princep gifted me this power? Chaos? Could I be the eleventh Servant of Chaos? No, impossible.
I admit that I'm not exactly the nicest person in the world, but to be a Servant of Chaos is to be a destroyer of worlds. That's not me.
For every question I found, five more appeared.
I had so many questions and not a single answer. This was way beyond my level of understanding, and I needed answers.
So I got dressed in some proper attire this time: simple black pants, a crisp white shirt, a red tailcoat, and a plain black ascot tie. I ran a hand through my hair until it looked more naturally tousled and less like I'd just gotten out of bed. Then I exited my room.
I was determined to find answers, so I made my way through the multiple floors of the palace, all the way down the winding stairs, while greeting, maybe flirting with multiple maids on the way down to our own private library.
Hours slipped by, and orange hues were painted all across the floors. Books stacked up around me like walls. The sun dipped lower. My eyes burned from reading. My back ached. My patience thinned.
But after countless journals, historical texts, and mythological compendiums.
I found nothing.
Not a single mention. Not a single clue. Not even a dusty footnote.
Absolutely nothing that could help me.
So I closed the last book, leaving it exactly where it was with hopes that the librarian would clean up after me.
You know, I never noticed how empty the library is. Sure, I barely come here anyway, but apparently it's not just me.
I was suffocating and needed fresh air. I was done with the library since the only thing it helped with was adding to my tiredness.
So I headed for the library exit and strolled through the palace's dimming halls. Lanterns were already lit in their golden sconces. I walked without thinking, guided by instinct more than direction. Down the stairs, past the hallways, past the portraits of ancestors who all seemed to stare in silent judgment, then out the main entrance, greeting the two guards who were stationed on either side of the doors.
"Wait, you're the same two guards from earlier, no?"
I realized out of the corner of my eye and turned to face them with a wry smile.
"Yes, Sir!"
Still as stiff as ever.
"Very well," I deadpanned. "Good evening."
"Good evening, Your Highness!"
Your Highness. So Auntie was serious. Public knowledge. Great. Fantastic. Just what I needed.
My gaze snapped to the golden ring on my finger, to which I let out a sigh before I turned and continued to stroll down the street, the gravel beneath my feet scratching the bottom of my shoes.
And then my stomach growled—very loud.
I placed a hand over my abdomen, rubbing small circles as if that could silence the betrayal. Hopefully, no one had seen the future King of Vangardia reduced to the level of a starving stray cat.
The upper district's restaurants were all closed—the curses of living in a kingdom with a very strict sense of timing.
Which meant I'd have to… ugh… go downtown.
The sun dipped, and the moon rose. Tonight was a full moon, and it was honestly... kinda pretty. It illuminated the streets and the very forced polite faces of passing by strangers and couples who kept their judgmental gazes well hidden since I mumbled like a madman while walking down the streets of Vangardia.
"As if today hasn't been surreal enough. Divine abilities, assassins, disappearing scars, surprise engagements… Now hunger? Truly, the universe tests me."
One woman nearly tripped trying to bow to me at breakneck speed.
The deeper I went into the lower district, the more humble the buildings became. Cracked stone, dim lanterns, the smell of cheap spices and fresh bread lingering in the air. People noticed me instantly and followed immediately with widening eyes, straightening postures, courteous bows, and whispers that spread like wildfire.
I approached a food stall run by an older, fat, balding man with an apron that looked older than he was. The moment he recognized me, he jolted upright.
"Y–Your Highness! W–welcome!"
"What's up?"
I nodded upwardly.
"I'll take… this."
I pointed vaguely at a steaming pot whose contents were questionable at best, with my other hand still cozy in my left pocket.
"Of course, at once, Your Highness."
He quickly scrambled, catching himself after almost tripping over some wet towels strewn across the floor. Safe to say he was making a mess of it all, but I was too hungry to really care much.
He handed me the bag with trembling hands. The poor man looked like he expected me to have him arrested for breathing wrong.
I paid the amount of two silver coins, then added a tip of one gold coin, which equaled a month's earnings for him.
His eyes nearly popped out.
"Y–Your Highness, this is far too—"
"It's appropriate. Just take it."
He then bowed so low I thought he might snap in half. I'm honestly impressed he was able to bow that low to begin with. Imagine if he lost all that fat.
I gave a lazy wave and walked away, tearing into the bread like a starving noble with no manners whatsoever. A couple passing by bowed deeply and stepped aside as I munched without even slowing.
"I should give my Divine ability a name!"
I blurted out to myself louder than I meant to, with food still in my mouth, startling a passing child.
"Hmm, the Divine ability of the Phoenix?"
No, not right.
"The Divine ability of resurrection? Reincarnation, maybe?"
No... not quite.
Interrupting my own ramblings and train of thought was a commotion just around the corner ahead. Sharp voices, strained tones, and an all too familiar voice.
Ariana.
Curiosity hit me immediately. Because there was absolutely no reason Princess Ariana Aredhel should be in this district at this hour. Also, who doesn't love some drama?
I followed the sound around the corner. And there she was.
Ariana stood with her back against a wall, four men who all looked like they'd collectively never seen a bath before in their lives formed a loose circle around her: predatory smiles, greedy eyes, the usual filth you find in shadowy corners of the city.
But she wasn't screaming. She wasn't crying. She simply looked irritated, her icy-fiery gaze drilling holes into them.
And I?
I took another bite of my bread. Hand-wrapped around my bag of food while I chewed leisurely. Watching like I'd accidentally stumbled into an amusing street play.
"Huh," I murmured to myself, lips curling upward. "Interesting choice of activity for the evening, Princess."
One of the men, the tallest one, leaned closer and caged her in by slapping his palm against the cold stone behind her, the other three making some kind of half-circle—surrounding her.
"Hey there, sweetheart—"
"Finish your sentence, and I'll blow your mouth clean off," she interrupted monotonically.
Pfftt. I spat, something inside me said she most definitely could and probably will. Oh my days, this is so entertaining!
A maroon robe with black stitching trimmed around the edges hung off her shoulders, loose enough that the fabric had slipped down to bare skin, smooth, pale, and annoyingly flawless. Loose enough to fall past her kneecaps and cover the palms of her hands. Loose enough to be considered too large for her small stature, and yet, for some reason, it fit her perfectly.
Her hair was down too, falling in coffee-colored waves to just above her waist, completely unguarded, completely exposed. Even her boots were simple leather ones that were too easy to slip on.
She looked…
Like she'd been about to go to bed.
So, Princess, what the hell are you doing here?
Ooh, ooh, here comes the good part!
Another one of the men, this time the shortest one, even shorter than her, which was honestly embarrassing, paired with his squeaky voice, tried to threaten her—I actually don't know how much longer I can hold in my laughter!
"How about you drop the attitude!"
Ariana's nose scrunched up as she sharpened her gaze, staring through him as if she were about to snatch his soul away.
"Or else?"
He gulped. Pfftt. How are you making a living as thugs if you can't even compose yourself? This is gold!
Ariana then sighed, with that same judgmental sigh she hit me with just before announcing that we're getting married.
Oh yeah, she's my fiancée. Forgot about that.
Anyway...
The tall thug tried to grab her by the wrist as she turned to storm away, but she simply slapped his hand away and said with a tone dipped in frost and boredom.
"I would reconsider touching me. I'm in a very poor mood today."
Yikes. You tell 'em, girl!
They didn't listen.
Sigh.
They never do.
I took another bite of bread, chewing thoughtfully.
Honestly, I was impressed she hadn't vaporized them yet. If it were me, I would've started with the talkative one. Or maybe the one whose shirt was so dirty it had started forming its own ecosystem.
I leaned on the opposite wall, munching away like I'd bought front-row seats.
"I said, reconsider," she repeated, more irritable this time.
The tall one sneered, "Fiesty little one, aren't you?"
I think one of them finally realized who she was since his face turned pale, and his jaw dropped.
"G—guys—"
Then he fainted.
Poor lad, at least he tried.
"Jad!"
Ariana and the other three turned to Jad, who lay on the ground, sleeping like a newborn. That's probably for the best; he won't have to worry too much about getting vaporized by Ariana anymore.
"What did you do to him?!" Squeaky guy shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at her.
"Nothing."
"You bitch!" The tall one yelled, cocking his fist back, ready to slam it against her face. She raised her left arm, probably to counter, and that's when I noticed...
The engagement ring. Our engagement ring.
I looked down at mine, and something inside me twisted like a knot. Much like many things recently, I couldn't quite tell what it was exactly.
But hey. If she's wearing that stupid ring, then I'm supposed to… You know… do something.
Probably.
But by the time I tried to intervene, she put up some kind of invisible barrier spell, a spell in which tall thug guy slammed his fist against and screamed in agony from probably breaking his wrist or something.
"Bitch. Bitch. Bitch."
Jeez, dude, relax on the bitch word. It ain't running away from you.
Also, she put up that barrier without an incantation. I could tell she was powerful; the arcane was practically dripping off of her in our first encounter. But to the extent of incantationless spellcasting? I couldn't help but be impressed. That's my fiancée, y'all!
"Well, gentlemen," I announced smugly while stepping into the lantern light. "I believe there's been a misunderstanding."
I was planning on continuing with all the dramatic bravado I used to defeat Iliam. But I felt Ariana's gaze bore into me with the gaze of one who loathed what she was looking at, quite literally freezing my insides. What is it with you cool and composed ladies trying to freeze my head off with your eyes? Jeez.
"How much longer were you planning on standing there, munching on your bread?"
I swallowed the last piece of bread and clutched my bag of stew tighter, plastic crinkling.
"First of all, what's wrong with bread? Second of all, you knew I was watching?"
"I felt you."
Felt? Did she sense my arcane? That shouldn't be possible; I keep it suppressed. Who the fuck are you, lady?
My grin didn't falter. Not one bit. I leaned casually against the wall. The three thugs watched both of us go back and forth; they probably noticed who I was and tried to sneak off, leaving poor little Jad.
"Oi!" I called after them. "Ligare!"
I incanted, and from the ground. Thick ropes burst out, snapping around all four of them—including poor unconscious Jad—wrapping them from shoulders to ankles like magically gift-wrapped idiots.
The three thugs toppled over in a heap.
Squeaky guy sobbed. The still-conscious one apologized loud enough for half the district to hear. Tall guy whined about his wrist.
I dusted my hands.
"I had it handled," Ariana sneered.
"Cool, but as your fiancé, I felt obliged to protect you."
"Right."
She crossed her arms then simply... walked away? Not even a thank you? Nothing? Hello? Lady?! Oi!
Before she completely stepped out of the alley, she turned her head slightly, showing me half her face under the moonlight.
"Before you ask me why I was here, much like you... I just wanted food."
Ah, wonderful! Both of us, cursed by the strict opening and closing hours of the upper district's shops.
She then left without another word.
I spun around to face the three thugs plus Jad with a large, entertained grin.
"Your Highness! I swear it was his idea!" Squeaky one nodded to Tall one.
"N—no! He's lying!"
"We didn't know she was the Prince's fiancée!" The third one chimed in.
Mhm, mhm, anyway.
"I GOT IT! DIVINE ABILITY OF RESTITUTION!"
"Huh?" The three thugs collectively reacted.
"That's what I'm calling my newfound Divine ability, what do you guys think?"
I crouched down so I'm closer to their eye level.
"It—it's great, Your Highness!" Tall one blurted.
"Y—yes, I agree with Cad!" Squeaky guy also blurted.
His names... Cad? What kinda name is that?
"Absolutely, Sir!" The other one also blurted, trying to keep up.
"This is some background character shit, dude, it's embarrassing... I mean, we have Jad, Cad, squeaky one... and then you're just... there. That's kinda sad, man."
"Sorry, Sir!"
I snorted. Dude, I'm insulting you, why are you apologizing?
Jad, on the other hand, remained as hibernated as a bear. Oh, how I envied him.
"Alright, anyway. Since I'm an imperial knight, I have no choice but to place all four of you under arrest."
"Wai—"
"However... I'm not on duty at the moment, and I'm feeling generous so..."
"Solve," I muttered, the ropes following my command, began to unravel themselves and return to the ground they came from.
"We will not forget your mercy, Sir!" All three of them shouted in unison, bowing down to me, then they carried Jad and scurried off.
Ah, what a day! The Divine ability of restitution... sounds nice, rolls off the tongue nicely, too.
I love it!