He dragged her. Euphemia struggled but his grasp was firm on her arm, his nails digging to her skin.
"Stop it! Where are you taking me?!" Euphemia shouted.
The crown prince chuckled. "So feisty! I'm just taking you to my reserved area. Let's talk there."
Euphemia had enough. She kicked his leg and his hand involuntarily let go of her.
"Ouch!" Vincent glared at her. "Behave or I'll make you do it again."
Euphemia frowned at him in confusion. "Do what?"
"Healing. I know what Mother made you do. She said you fainted from the pain," Vincent smirked.
Euphemia's eyes widened.
"I'll stab my leg and it's either you will heal me or I will accuse you of treason and you will be executed. Both choices will hurt you I'm sure," the prince said with a sadistic grin.
She did not want to heal and experience the stabbing of a sword again. Most especially, she didn't want to heal the ars*hole prince!
Euphemia sighed. "Fine but make it quick. The Duke will be looking for me."
Vincent smiled and led her to a private booth. It was Iike a balcony, overlooking the stage, but it was closed off by curtains from behind and at the sides for privacy. The prince sat on the couch and Euphemia grudgingly sat beside him.
"You look rather stunning, my lady," Vincent said, his eyes looking at her cleavage.
Euphemia glared at him and covered her cleavage with her hair. "I'm not your lady. So, what is it? Why do you want us to talk?"
Vincent chuckled. "I am just simply trying to woo you, my lady. I'm quite heartbroken that my charms are not working on you."
"I am engaged already. You shouldn't do that," Euphemia said in disgust.
Vincent looked at her in amusement. "We both know that's just for show. You aren't really marrying the Demon Duke for love, are you? That's just hogwash!"
"If you're just going to insult him, I'm leaving," Euphemia said and was about to get up to leave but Vincent stopped her.
"Sit down. I'm not yet finished."
"Don't you want to marry a willing lady? I presume several ladies would be willing to line up to be your bride. You don't need me!"
"The Saintess needs to be engaged to the Monarch. It's how things have been done here since hundreds of years ago. What would the people think of their future king if he has been rejected by the Saintess?!" Vincent said.
Euphemia rolled her eyes. "I already rejected you. The people will think that this Saintess chose who she wanted to be engaged to. Actually, the women here in your kingdom should be able to choose who they want to marry! Your traditions just make them miserable."
The prince looked like he wanted to murder her.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for coming to our lovely auction night!"
Euphemia looked at the stage. The man speaking was Marco. The auction had started already! Lucien must be looking for her!
"Stay," Vincent said in a commanding tone.
"I really have to get back," Euphemia said and got up. She didn't want to stay a second longer with the prince.
"Everyone will hear me shouting from here. They'll see me bleeding and they'll think you tried to murder their future king," Vincent said with a creepy smile.
"You won't do that," Euphemia said nervously.
Vincent's smile widened. He got up and reached for the sword from his hip. He pulled it out from its sheath and pointed the sword towards her, its tip dangerously close to her neck.
"Maybe I'll just drive this sword in you instead. It will keep you from leaving. I'll make sure you won't die, of course but you'll bleed . . . a lot," Vincent said.
"You crazy bast*rd," Euphemia said angrily.
"Break off your engagement with the Demon Duke and tell everyone that you've changed your mind. You want to be with the prince instead! I'll be the delighted prince and we can happily live in the Palace!" Vincent said gleefully, the tip of his sword touching Euphemia's neck.
"I'd rather die," Euphemia whispered.
The prince withdrew his sword from her neck and raised it high then he swung it to her side.
SHING!
Another sword blocked off the prince's attack.
Euphemia looked at who had protected her.
"Are you all right, Euphee?"
It was Lucien. Euphemia breathed in relief.
"I'm unharmed, thanks to you," Euphemia said gratefully.
Lucien turned his attention to the crown prince. He pushed the prince by putting force on his sword. The prince staggered backwards.
"You dare hurt my fiancée. Do it again and I will cut you down," Lucien said angrily. It was taking all of his willpower to control his rage.
Vincent chuckled. "I wasn't going to kill her, cousin."
The crown prince put back his sword in its sheath.
"When you get tired of her, give her to me, will you?" Vincent said.
"Let's go," Lucien said to Euphemia and they left.
*
*
*
Lucien and Euphemia went to their reserved seats. Euphemia was not prepared to die. She only said that to spite the prince. It was truly a relief that Lucien had found her.
"Thank you for saving me," Euphemia said. "How did you find me?"
"I barged in to all of the private areas. I initially thought you were just lost. I'm sorry. If I had accompanied you, you would not have been in danger. I'm truly sorry."
Euphemia shook her head. "It's not your fault. If you didn't arrive, I might have been awfully hurt already. He would have used it as an excuse to whisk me off to the Palace."
"Are you truly all right? Did he hurt you anywhere?" Lucien asked worriedly.
"I think I'll get a bruise on my arm but other than that, I'm fine," Euphemia assured him.
Lucien looked at her arm which had reddened because of how tight Vincent gripped it. His eyebrows furrowed in anger.
"I should have broken his arm," Lucien muttered.
"I'm fine. Maybe I can heal it," Euphemia said cheerfully.
She closed her eyes and concentrated.
Nothing.
She imagined the sun. She thought about the words that had popped up in her head when she healed the soldier.
Banish the pain with might!
Bless thee with healing light!
Still nothing.
Euphemia opened her eyes, looking worried.
"It seems that I am unable to heal myself."