shadow prince

Matteo wondered if committing murder in the castle would negatively impact the kingdom. On the one hand, he’d be getting rid of the spawn of the Dark Witch. On the other, he would definitely be fighting a war the next day with that very same witch. That would likely not end well. Still, he could at least roll his eyes. 

“Mature as always, I see,” Matteo said. “If you want, I can send you up as well. Might not be able to bring you down, though.” He tried to look concerned, but failed. Having a floating prince was probably not worthy of war, right? Though, it could quickly turn into a battle. It was nighttime. 

Matteo looked down at Willhelm, subtly reminding him who was the bigger man here. He made the necklace float higher. Thankfully, he hadn’t lost concentration. Once that happened, Willhelm would never finish teasing him. It was all a game to the dark prince. But, thankfully, Matteo knew the quickest way to get under his skin. “Maybe you should run home to your mummy.”

Willhelm’s arm dropped back down to his side. His smirk gone, replaced with a thin, disapproving line. Of course the little prince always knew how to ruin the mood. As far as Willhelm could tell, it was his only skill. Well, that and his pretty little face. Still, it was a petty shot that Willhelm could see, even through the rage bubbling up from under the surface. Swallowing his anger, Willhelm forced a smirk onto his face. He stepped back and plopped himself down onto Matteo’s bed. 

“No,” he said, laying back, arms behind his head, legs crossed. “ No, I don’t think I will. I think I’ll stay right here for quite some time.”

The bed was firmer than he was expecting, firmer than he preferred. It hardly mattered. This was about retaliation, not comfort. If he could upset the other prince, distract him, he could use his shadows to take the necklace from underneath Matteo’s nose.

Minsoo tried not to wheeze laugh. It was highly unflattering. Unfortunately, her dark knight’s obvious flirtation made it hard for her not to. That, and the burning feeling where his lips touched. Was it magic? She hadn’t read of such a spell, but she could be wrong. Though, admittedly, she didn’t have anything to compare it to. The extent of her physical intimacy was a handshake with a date. And he was from America.

Minsoo might have denied the knight if it wasn’t for the sudden disappearance of her admirer. She tried not to gape. If some demonic knight had this kind of power, what kind of strength did the prince have? She shivered at the thought. At least she hadn’t run into him yet.

Not wanting to exacerbate the situation, Minsoo took his hand. Well, this was certainly going to be news all over the kingdom of Elestren. Cecilia was consorting with demons. So much for a low profile.

“Fine. But, please, no more kidnappings,” she said. She still wasn’t sure what happened to the lord from the Harvest Moon. Though, she still kept the Bloodmoon flowers by her window. Apparently, they were much less dangerous when picked.

Minsoo was not the best dancer, but, thankfully, Cecilia’s body had muscle memory. She tried to keep a smile on her face as she twirled. “Don’t you think you should be bored of this by now? I am sure there is a lovely girl your age on your side of the river.” As she said that, distaste filled her mouth. Well. That was unexpected. She hoped it didn’t show on her face.

“I don’t like girls my age,” Wilhelm said with an easy tone. To be frank, the only girls left that were his age were members of his skeleton army. He hardly intended to mix business with pleasure. He released Cecilia for a spin before bringing her in close again, close enough to whisper in her ear. “It’s hardly kind of you to speak of other women after you’ve proposed marriage to me, my dear.”

He pulled back, not expecting a response, but rather a flush on her face. He found he very much enjoyed Cecilia’s stunned, shy embarrassment, perhaps to her chagrin. It was likely due to her ignorance of who and what he was, but her honest expressions gave him a feeling he’d never known. Neither sycophant nor condemner, just a woman who saw him as just a man. Willhelm gripped her waist tighter. He wondered what kind of face she would make next. Perhaps if he —

 Willhelm’s thoughts were interrupted by the thundering sound of the towering ballroom doors being burst open. Dozens of soldiers poured in, filling the room. Their weapons all pointed in Willhelm's direction. His lips shifted from the fond smile he gave his partner to a thin, almost bored line. Admittedly, he’d expected something like this when he made his little scene but they had mobilized annoyingly quickly.

“Halt, fiend!” a general or something or other shouted.

Ever since the Bloodmoon Grove, Minsoo hadn’t been able to get rid of the dongsaeng. She wasn’t sure what to call him. Every time she tried to get a name out of him, he simply gave her a cheeky grin and continued as if she hadn’t spoken. Minsoo had given up. It wasn’t important. However, between avoiding all the death flags, and trying to avoid her killer (who could be lurking at any corner), she had been preoccupied. 

Still, she couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t relieved to see him at this moment. Minsoo had wanted fresh air and to possibly finish her glass of wine in peace. Instead, the count had made her drop her wine and she was left to wonder how medieval Europe would react to him shoving him. Her black knight had saved her from such a decision.

“I didn’t exactly ask him to come here. And stop, or you’ll make a scene,” she said. “Unless you want to end up having to marry me?“ Cecilia was practically a spinster at this point. “I’m a little old for you.”

Willhelm bit back a laugh. His funny, pretty little thing. He’d be quite sad whenever this game had to end. He worried about the fear, the creeping horror that would show itself on her face if she ever realize what a monster he was. He pulled back and brought her delicate fingers up to his lips, placing a lingering kiss on the back of Cecilia’s hand.

“I’m not opposed,” he said. He fluttered his eyes, hoping to further rile Ceclilia up. “When should I take you to meet Mother?”

A lazy wave of his free hand and Willhelm’s shadows spirited the ugly creature that had so offended Cecilia to the depths of Darien Vale’s darkest dungeons. He’d be kept there on ice until Willhelm had the chance to properly administer justice for his crimes. He would also send his vassals to collect the creep’s land and holdings. They would make a lovely gift for Cecilia, perhaps an engagement present since she seemed so inclined. With all obstacles removed and without waiting for a response, Willhelm led Cecilia off the balcony and back into the ballroom. If the rabble were going to have the audacity to approach what was his, the very least he could do was make it clear to all what the end result of that would be. 

As they stepped back into the light, the music screeched to a stop. Musicians and partygoers alike cowered in fear. Willhelm smirked. He always liked a grand entrance. He snapped and his shadows took the instruments from the shaking hands of incompetent fools. They soon resumed playing one of his favorite waltzes. He fancied a dance. 

Matteo had hated Willhelm almost longer than he had hated his brothers. There was a time when he hoped his siblings would love him. Unfortunately, that time was gone now. However, the second he had met the so-called “prince”, Matteo had despised him. The kingdom was not aware of just how often the two of them ran into each other. 

It was strange, then, that the person Matteo hated most in the world was the only one who knew his secret. Without hesitation, Matteo snapped his fingers. The necklace floated out of Willhelm’s hands, losing its sense of gravity. Most people missed that part of lunar magic in the lore. It had certainly freaked him out as a child.

“That, is not yours. Though, nothing here is. Are you lost, your highness?”  He said it snidely. However, he hoped Willhelm wouldn’t look to closely at the necklace. It was shabbier than anything else he owned, but anyone could tell it held powerful healing magic. A gift from a previous life. 

Willhelm rolled his eyes and turned to face his usurper. His head lulled lazily to the side. What a boring response. Matteo could’ve at very least pulled out his sword. The ghost of a smirk flitted across Willhelm’s face. Now that would be interesting. Perhaps he could goad the false prince into doing something, anything entertaining. With that thought, the dark magician took two long strides until he was just in front of Matteo, too close by any standard. Willhelm towered over most, but there was little to be done about the one thing the other prince bested him in: height. 

“I know perfectly well where I am,” Willhelm said. He deliberately left out any titles or honorifics. Matteo was beneath him; he should know that, even if it wasn’t physical. 

As he was wont to do, Willhelm spirited himself into the capital of Elestren, into the grand castle. His magic made it trivial. The petty mortals couldnt so much as sense him. Willhelm slunk is way through the corridors, looking for nothing in particular. Eventually he settled on a pair of large, gilded doors. He knew exactly what it was. The chambers of the crown prince.

The locked doors were trivial to open. Willhelm let himself inside and began to snoop about, idlily. He pulled at drawers, opened chests. Everything that Matteo had should've been Willhelm's to begin with, so what was the trouble? Every inch of land, each jewel, every ounce of gold. It was stolen, from his mother. It was Willhelm's birthright. It was only by his grace and that of his mother that Matteo got to enjoy any of it. Hardly any of it was to the dark prince's taste but that was no matter. It should have been his.

"And if I may be so bold, my fair maiden, as to ask for your hand."

Willhelm's blood boiled. He had been watching, from his shadows, curious as to what his pretty little thing was doing on a balcony in the midst of this lavish party —a birthday part of some sort, though he knew not for whom — when he found Cecilia cornered by some fool of a man. Initially, he let it play out. He wanted to know where it went, how bold, how stupid a mortal could be. But this had gone too far. Something had snapped, a line crossed. The game was over and Willhelm could stand it no more.

Sweeping in on shadows, Willhelm revealed himself. His magic covered the short, thin man who so dared to hold Cecilia's delicate hand so close to his lips, poised for a kiss in the darkness and seemed to freeze him in time. He wrested Cecilia from the low-ranking noble's grasp. His eyes narrowed into a dark and dangerous look. He leaned in low and whispered.

When not lounging amongst his books in the echoing chambers of Darien Castle, Willhelm often found himself slinking through the lax defenses of Elestren. This particular day, hiding in the shadows of Garudo village, Willhelm was after a rare herb necessary for a potion he’d stumbled across. The corners of his lips twitched upwards at the thought of the fun his little experiment would be. The herb, gleamwort, could only be cultivated in the purest of light and thus was nowhere to be found in Darien Vale. Recently, however, Willhelm had caught word of a magical vendor willing to sell the plant to the highest bidder. He intended to relieve the seller of their stock. Whether he did so with coins or force, Willhelm had yet to decide.

It took little time for the dark prince to locate his target: the finest magical goods shop in all of Elestren. The pristine building held the highest quality ingredients this side of the Lisianthus river. Their kingdom’s petty marketplace paled in comparison. Willhelm strode in with confidence and anticipation, wasting no time in demanding assistance. The nervous shop worker was only too happy to comply and implored Willhelm for his patience as he scrambled to the back of the store, for only the owner could give him what he wanted. Willhelm sighed. Mortals always made things so complicated. 

Glancing around the shop from beneath his hood, Willhelm caught sight of someone unexpected. A smirk formed on his lips. At least he would have a way to pass the time.

flashback: flirting with death

@nbmwillhelm​

After her near death experience, Minsoo did not want to go back to the Darien Vale. Unfortunately, she did not have any other choice. She wanted to go home to indoor plumbing. If that meant consorting with demons for it, so be it. She could, hopefully, go to confession for it later. 

Being in the Darien Vale presented another problem: she knew next to nothing about it. She didn’t the book focused much on the place and she hardly remembered much about what was there. She reached out for a magical tome, but someone grabbed it instead.

“Excuse me, that’s mine. Don’t you know to respect your elders?”

One of Willhelm’s least destructive hobbies included frequenting the dark corners of Elestren’s capital city, looking for something, anything interesting. He wore only the barest of disguises: a hooded cloak that did little to hide his tall frame and regal figure. Stood in the back of a rundown magic shop, Willhelm’s ringed fingers tapped against the book of magic he held above the woman’s head.

He let out a small chuckle. This would be enough to keep him occupied, if only for a moment. Willhelm smirked playfully at the woman, eyes full of mirth. 

“Ah, my deepest apologies,” Willhelm said before initiating a sweeping bow. He still kept the book out of her reach. “However, I do believe I came upon this book first, madame.”