Chapter 29: The Climont Prince

Eliana forces herself to hold eye contact with Prince Drake. His demeanor is intimidating as he towers over her, a shadow casting over his features, hiding any inclination on what he is thinking.
“He is most likely pondering on how to kill me,” she hisses in her mind.
There is a low murmur in the crowd of Climont soldiers, metal clanking as they return their swords to their scabbards. Eliana wonders if they have just returned from a battle.
“Who has harmed her,” Drake’s question causes a hesitation in Eliana’s mind. His brow furrows even farther as he turns to those who kidnapped her. “I asked, who laid their hands on her.”
One of the men, the one that she head butted, steps forward, his gaze refusing to leave the ground. His face is painted with a dark bruise that expands from his nose out into his cheeks. “We did not mean to. She fought us when we took her and the bruising is a result.”
There is a twitch in the Prince’s lips, his nose crinkling for a moment. He looks back down at Eliana, his eyes running over her arms and legs. For some odd reason she becomes self-conscious of her dirty and battered appearance. She tugs on her pant legs to cover some of the scabs beginning to form on her calves. How embarrassing it is to be so disheveled and dirty in front of the third Prince of Climont. She is the only Princess of Drein, she should not show any vulnerability.
“Could you not find a more bearable restraint?”
As Drake approaches Eliana holds her breath, terror rattling around inside her. She clenches her teeth together as she cranes her neck up to look at him. He hands off his helmet to the woman that was in the wagon with her.
“Please, stand,” he reaches down to grab her arms. Eliana’s entire body jumps, fear tightening her muscles to the point of pain. She wonders if this is the right moment to use her weapon.
As she reaches for it, though, he speaks once more.
“I am terribly sorry that you were harmed during the journey. That was not my intention.”
Once she is standing, albeit a little wobbly, he slowly releases his hold on her.
Not sure why he is acting as such, Eliana grits her teeth, “Why was I kidnapped and dragged here? If you plan to kill me, do so now. I would much rather get it over with.”
The crowd begins to chuckle at her tenacity, but Drake’s eyes widen with the ferocity of her tone. He glowers at his subjects, hushing them without a word.
“I promise you, Princess, that I mean you no harm. They were simply supposed to ask you for a meeting. They were meant to protect you from the assassins dispatched to kill you.”
Eliana hides the confusion building in her mind. She presses her lips together in order to hold her expression neutral. “Why would you ever do that?”
“Milord,” the same man murmurs. He still has yet to move from the exact same position. “She was in the company of Pivurlion. I fear if we did not grab her when we did, they would have killed us.”
Drake stares at his man for a moment, before looking back down at the Princess.
“Come, let us speak in my tent. We shall have privacy there.” The Prince steps to the side, his arm reaching out to guide Eliana.
She releases a quivering breath and tries not to choke as a lump forms in her throat. She will be alone with him, in his tent. What will happen? She can’t pull her weapon yet, if she does, the entire crowd will kill her before she can even attempt an escape. No, she will have to find the right time. Gripping her stomach, over the rusted nail that scrapes at her flesh, she follows Drake. Her restraints clank along with her, weighing heavy on her limbs. She winces at the ache pulsating through her entire body and the pounding pain in her ankle. Will it ever have time to heal?
“Junet,” Drake calls back as they near the large tent in the center of the camp.
“Yes, Prince Drake.” The woman from the wagon rushes to his side, bowing her head.
“Get those chains off of her,” he growls glancing back at Eliana. “Prepare a private bath as well, she will need to get cleaned up.”
“Yes, milord.” She nods and glances at the Princess, a soft smile forming before she moves away.
A burly man with blood caking his face and arms stands at the front of Drake’s tent. When they near, he pulls the flap aside to allow them to enter. The Prince is forced to bend slightly in order to fit through the gap.
Eliana glides through the best she can. The interior is dim, a small fire started in the center. There is a table to the right with multiple maps of Drein and Xalonia on top, marks drawn all over them. She blinks away tears as her heart is torn in two. This man may be showing her kindness, but he is the one murdering her people. He is taking down her entire kingdom.
“Princess Eliana, please tell me about these Pivurlions that you were traveling with. I should know about them before they show up on my doorstep looking for you. Are they reasonable beings?” Drake moves to a small wash basin, cupping some water and drinking from his hands before rubbing at his chin and neck, trying to clean off the blood.
Eliana watches silently, nausea rolling through her stomach. Jasper’s face appears in her mind, but it only causes more pain.
“You. . .” her voice cracks harshly, “Do not have to worry about them.”
“Oh, but surely they will try to save you from me.” He cocks his head to the side, confusion evident in his gaze.
“No, they will not risk themselves for me. I am not worth it.” She pivots away from him before the tears are shed. “I am alone.”