I Choose The Villain Duke

Lucien was no stranger to the dark. He was well acquainted of it during his childhood. The wardrobe with his wool jackets that had almost never been worn. The space under his bed as he held his breath trying not to make the slightest of sound. Or under his father's desk in the dark study with the air so stale he imagined the dust filling up his lungs.

Those were the dark places he knew of. The places he thought his mother would not reach him. He did not expect to be reunited with the dark again in a place he had never thought of.

Inside him.

Lucien's physical body had closed its eyes. Perhaps the magic in the slave contract deemed it necessary for the body to rest so it can perform its duties the next morning. When the body closed its eyes, the real Lucien inside was surrounded by darkness.

He shouted.

A lot.

He told himself to move. He told himself to get up. He told himself to strangle the queen to break the damn contract.

But of course his body did not listen. His body had become a puppet. A thing to be manipulated. A thing that was carrying his face but not listening to his mind.

Lucien looked around him and decided to walk. It was strange. He could walk. Under his feet was a ground so black he could not make out what exactly he was walking on.

Tap tap tap.

His footsteps were the only thing he could hear in the vast darkness.

"Anyone out there?! Please help me!" He shouted.

For some reason, he had a feeling he was not alone. His senses told him that someone was observing him. Studying him.

He continued to walk. Perhaps he wasn't really inside his mind. What if he was transported somewhere else? A dark place where the real souls of those who were under the slave contract thrown into.

"Please! Help me!" Lucien shouted.

He dreaded the morning. His body would wake up and he would see it moving again against his will. It would surely look for the engagement contract. And after that . . .

"Please! I need to get out of here!" Lucien shouted.

Euphemia was in danger. What were they doing to her? Was she being harassed by that prince?

"Please! I need to get out of here! I need to save someone!" Lucien shouted.

He knew it was useless. It must have been his imagination. Why would someone else be inside the darkness with him?

Then the voice came. Loud and majestic.

Like thunder. A pair of huge golden eyes smoldered from the darkness.

"Why?"

*

*

*

Euphemia had always fantasized about an alternate world. A world where magic was not just a sleight of the hand. A fantasy world with a prince and a villain. A world she could escape to.

But now she was running.

Trying to escape the prince.

Trying to go back to the arms of her villain.

Her villain. Euphemia wanted to scream his name into the night. She wanted to be rescued but he was nowhere to be found. He promised that he would protect her. Now, she had no one beside her. Again.

Her legs felt heavy. The air was getting harder to get into her lungs. She had not run into a guard yet but she would rather not take her chances.

Where were the guards anyway?

Euphemia found herself facing a huge wide door. Her instincts told her it might lead to outside. Small doors meant rooms. Big doors meant exits, right?

She pushed the door, putting in all her weight she could on it. She was able to push it open a bit and she fitted herself inside the small space she was able to make.

The smell of flowers.

She was outside. Greenery. Shrubs, trees, and several flowers hidden in the shadows of the night. The strong fragrance made her queasy. It reminded her of the garden from her original world.

Euphemia stepped under the shade. She began running again. It was as though the darkness had swallowed up her whole. Her raven black hair and her black dress that contained no drop of color blended in with the shadows.

There must be an exit somewhere. If there was no exit, perhaps she could climb a ledge or a tree to get outside. There must be a way. There must be.

She felt terrible. The contents of her stomach were pushing its way up with every step she took. Every gust of wind felt like needles on her skin, cold and impossibly painful. She was sweating but her teeth were starting to chatter. The world seemed to swim in front of her eyes. Everything was moving too much. Why was the ground swaying?

Then she collapsed.

She was under the moonlight. She could have been hidden in the shadows again in a few more seconds of running but she collapsed just before she could get under another shade.

She tried to get up. Her head felt like it was being squeezed from the sides like a lemon being juiced.

What was happening to her?

She tried to get up but she collapsed again. Strength drained out of her body. She closed her eyes and tried to will strength back into her body.

Get up.

Get up before he catches you!

"You got quite far, my lady. A proper lady should not run! Especially not after dinner," a voice said.

Prince Vincent.

"What did you do to me?" Euphemia asked through gritted teeth.

"You ate a lot, didn't you, my lady?" Vincent asked cheerfully.

She did but that wouldn't explain everything she was feeling. Unless he did something to the food.

"Did you poison me?" Euphemia asked in disbelief.

Vincent clapped cheerfully. "Our Saintess is so smart! Yes, I did!"

So that's why he did not eat. She thought he was just a chatterbox but it did not dawn to her that he would actually poison her.

"Why?" Euphemia asked.

"Well, you will be confined in your room for days if you're poisoned, right? Not to worry! This poison will not kill you. We've tested this already and I gave you the safest one. It just gives you all the unpleasantness without the death. We cannot have you running around like this, can't we? You just have to stay in your room and . . . do as you're told," Vincent said with a very pleased smile.

"What are you planning on making me stay in my room?" Euphemia asked

Vincent smirked. "Making you my wife."

Euphemia's eyes widened.

"No!" Euphemia screamed. "You can't force me!"

"I can, actually. I can give you small doses of the antidote and relieve you of the pain. In exchange, you will give yourself to me. Willingly. You will beg me to give you relief," Vincent said.

He crouched down beside her and caressed her face with his hand.

"It's painful, isn't it? It will become more painful. The ones who tried this actually tried to kill themselves just to end the pain. You don't need to be in pain, my lady," Vincent said.

Vincent pulled her up. His hands caressed her waist. Euphemia put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself.

"Do you have the antidote with you?" Euphemia asked.

Vincent smiled in satisfaction. "Yes, I do but there is a price."

"I will do anything," Euphemia whispered.

"A kiss will suffice for now," Vincent said with a satisfied look on his face.

Euphemia leaned in close to his face. Vincent tilted his head and closed his eyes.

Euphemia dropped her right arm to her side. The sleeves of her dress were tight but they were loose enough to fit a knife between the space where cloth meets skin.

The knife she stole from dinner fell perfectly on the palm of her hand. Faster than a blink, she slashed his face.

Red.

Despite the darkness, she knew it was blood. She could smell it in the air. She could feel the wetness on her hand. The stickiness.

Then he screamed.

No lovely sound of laughter this time. Just an ugly animalistic sound. A scream that pieced her ears and made her bite her lip.

An ugly red gash dripped blood from the prince's left eye to the right side of his jaw.

He touched his face and screamed again at the sight of the blood on his hands. He looked at her. Murderous rage in his eyes.

"I can heal you," Euphemia said before Vincent could charge at her.

"Now! Do it now, you bi*ch!" Vincent shouted at her.

"Not until you let me go," Euphemia said.

His hands grasped her arms and squeezed so tight, tears threatened to come out of her eyes.

"HEAL ME NOW!" He shook her.

"No! I want you to take me outside!" Euphemia screamed at him.

"What makes you think you can survive with the antidote? You can barely even walk!" He threw her to the ground.

"Heal me now or I'll break you arm," Vincent said, stepping on her arm.

"No. I want you to let me go!" Euphemia said.

He stomped on her arm and she screamed. She tried to reach for the knife again but he saw what she was trying to do and he kicked the knife away.

He crouched down. The blood from his gashed face dripping down on her cheek. He fumbled for something in his pocket and took out a small vial of purple liquid.

"See here? This is the antidote. You will feel so much better after you drink this."

He took of the vial's cap and started pouring the contents on the ground.

"I suggest you start begging now, Saintess."