[Damian's Point of View - The same day, morning]
***
"Never have I ever met a human with such courage-"
"Never."
Damian Oberon woke up to the scent of blood wafting through the windows of his bedroom. His thoughts about the woman fading away as his nostrils filled with the disgusting smell.
"Damn it, at this hour," he grumbled to himself as he sat up in bed.
The blood he smelled belonged to various animals. However, with Damian's keen sense of smell, it was enough to disrupt his peaceful sleep.
Damian, a twenty-seven-year-old man, was born into the royal family of Kingdom Lumina. Despite the royal lineage being comprised of Darklings generation after generation, Damian was the odd one out—a white sheep among the blacks, so to speak.
The legend went,
"A man without powers must seek love, which allows the inner demons to emerge."
Yet, for the past twenty-seven years, Damian had been blessed with everything except love.
Knock knock knock
The sound of knocking roused Damian from his bed. He stood up and approached the door.
"Yes, Matilda?" he addressed his mother.
Matilda Oberon, a fifty-five-year-old woman, lived burdened by the dark energy that permeated their surroundings. She sighed upon hearing Damian's disrespectful tone. Her wrinkled yet sharp features made it evident to Damian what she was thinking, and oddly enough, that brought him a strange sense of satisfaction.
"Your father requests your presence," Matilda informed him.
Damian frowned as he looked at his mother. "You've realized that I'm not your eldest son, haven't you?" he questioned.
Matilda sighed once again, her grip tightening on the fabric of her draped clothing, channeling her emotions into the delicate material.
"Do you think my eyesight is failing, son?"
"I didn't—"
"The answer is no. It's not. Damian..." She raised her gaze to meet her son's and walked past him, their shoulders briefly brushing against each other. She entered the meticulously arranged room and sat on the gray bed.
"For how long must I bear this guilt, Damian?" she asked gently, her voice filled with kindness. She looked at him and saw the envy in his eyes, a reflection of what lay in his heart.
"And how long do you think I've had to live with it, mother? You tell me," he replied, meeting her gaze directly.
With just one look, she felt unsettled sitting there. With hesitation, she stood up and walked out of the room.
Damian let out a sigh as he watched his mother leave. "Father wants to see me? I wonder why..." he pondered silently before making his way out of the room.
-
Damian stepped into the room filled with men and women adorned in various regal garments. He walked further into the grand hall, his eyes landing on the aged man seated on the throne, his head adorned with a magnificent crown—something Damian knew he would never possess.
As he made his way in, he noticed his elder brother standing before King Oberon, his hands clasped in front of him. Damian surveyed the room, and his gaze met the penetrating eyes of King Oberon.
"Ah, Damian! You've arrived! Good morning," the king greeted, and the rest of the room followed suit.
Most of the men in the chamber were courtiers, skilled in the art of flattery and sycophancy, constantly ingratiating themselves with the king.
"It's wonderful to see you, Damian. It's been far too long since our last encounter!"
"Damian, what a pleasure!"
"It's been quite some time since we've seen you together."
Damian glanced around, his eyes eventually settling on the king. All these men—these men who had deemed him useless, powerless, and made him question his very existence for years.
He despised them with every fiber of his being.
"What is it, Father? I have other matters to attend to," Damian retorted.
"Matters like what? Frolicking in the wilderness and courting women?" another voice interjected, cutting off Damian's words. It was his brother, Lucian.
Damian rolled his eyes, not bothered to hide his annoyance. "Lucian, when will you stop shadowing me in the woods?" he retorted loudly, projecting an air of strength.
"What has Lucian done?" the king inquired, glancing between his two children.
Lucian raised his hands in defense. "He lacks powers, Father. Who knows what dangers lurk in the forest? How will he survive without powers?"
"Enough!" Damian's voice boomed, shattering the silence that had fallen over the hall. Courtiers exchanged glances, and both the king and Lucian turned their attention to Damian.
"I. Can. Protect. Myself," Damian declared through clenched teeth, emphasizing each word with determination.
"Oh—"
"Lucian, know your place. I may not possess shadow powers to murder foes, be they men, women, or beasts. But I possess an even more valuable gift than yours—swordsmanship. You know very well that I am the most skilled soldier in this kingdom, and you also know who saved Matilda just last week," he seethed, his words laced with frustration.
This was the first time Damian had ever spoken back and revealed the extent of his capabilities. He had always chosen to remain silent, relying on his strength in the shadows and honing his skill in swordsmanship.
His voice reverberated through the hall, leaving King Oberon visibly stunned. It was a shock to witness Damian speak up, as he had always been so reserved.
"Lucian, that's enough," Matilda interjected as she entered the room. She took her place next to Oberon.
"What is it, Father?" Damian asked, his tone betraying his skepticism. 'What could you possibly have to say in front of everyone? You know well enough that the insults never cease when I am in the presence of these men,' he thought to himself.
Oberon looked around and stood up, prompting all the courtiers and their wives to rise as well.
"I hereby declare my retirement next month! The coronation will proceed as tradition dictates. My sons may seek their matches, and we shall hold a grand ceremony to etch it into history," Oberon announced.
"Is that all?" Damian's voice dripped with disdain.
The king appeared perplexed, his gaze fixed on Damian. "Huh?"
"If that's all, then I must return to my training. Thank you," Damian retorted, turning to leave.
Gasps echoed throughout the hall, and murmurs of unnecessary gossip began to circulate among the onlookers, targeting the youngest member of the royal family.
"Father, you know Damian cannot ascend the throne!" Lucian's voice boomed, challenging Damian as he neared the exit.
Although Damian heard his brother's words, he chose to ignore them, refusing to grant Lucian the satisfaction of a response. But before he departed, he glanced back at the assembly.
He observed how nearly everyone in the hall seemed to support Lucian's stance.
"Allow me to deliver a surprise to you all," he thought to himself, a determined spark in his eyes, before he turned on his heel and made his way outside.
-
[Present moment]
In front of Damian stood a woman, her nightgown draped around her as she maintained a poised and attentive stance, absorbing every bit of information she could glean from him.
She was prepared to marry him, seeking an escape from her life as a human and to shield her village from harm.
Damian desired to marry her, as dictated by the rules inscribed in the books on ascension to the throne.
However, there was something else he needed to clarify.
"...You will be my bride, and we will be wed," he stated.
"And then what?" Sera inquired.
Damian found himself irresistibly drawn to her emerald eyes as she spoke. He had done his utmost to avoid it at all costs, and he would strive to do so once again this time.
"What are you asking, princess?" he questioned.
"After we get married, what will you offer me?" she inquired.
"You and your villagers will live fearlessly in my kingdom. I seek power, and you seek freedom. In three years, once I establish my reign in the kingdom, we will part ways. But only if you agree," he said with humility.
"Hmm..." she pondered before him.
He noticed a slight pout forming on her lips as she delved into deep contemplation right before him.
"Do you have any questions?" he asked, knowing all too well that she always did.
"Can I ask you something?" she queried.
"Hm?"
"Where are your powers?" she asked.
The one question he couldn't answer. The question he wished no one would ever ask him.
"It doesn't exist. Happy?" he responded.
"But wait, don't you need to be a darkling to wear the crown?"
"She's smart. Beauty and brains... What a blessing!" Damian thought, smirking.
"Well, princess, we will have to put on an act," he said, looking at Sera with his intriguing blue eyes.
"An act?" she questioned.
"Yes. Now you're getting it. We will have to act as if you are my... soulmate."
Sera visibly flinched at his statement. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her lips immediately fell.
"Soulmates? Do you believe in them?" she asked abruptly.
Damian chuckled loudly. "Of course not. I don't even believe in love, princess. How could I ever bring myself to believe in soulmates?" he replied, as if she was delusional.
"You do not believe in love either?" she paused. "That's good to know."
Damian nodded and stood up, moving closer to her. With each step, her pleasant and soft scent filled his nostrils. It matched her demeanor perfectly.
"Yes, now you know you are safe with me. You don't have to worry about us. We'll deceive others, navigate through it all, and both of us will lead peaceful but short lives. What do you say? Do we have a deal?" he asked.
She looked up at him, thoughts racing through her mind. After considering everything, she agreed.
"Alright, let's do it," she whispered.
'Lucian, you better start seeking better things in life. Because that crown... it will never be yours. Not in any way.' Damian thought to himself, giving a smile to Sera.