Once Upon A Royal Matrimony

48. breathing dead prince

Eden Salvatore

This was the story of how I murdered Elian Cobalt Hasting, the breathing dead prince.

I was dumped somewhere between hell and planet earth. I wondered how idiotic could a person be to somehow fuck up the art of murders. Dumbass.

Shivering above the cold marble floor, I cringed as I looked through my blurry sight at the tall ceiling. I took a second to study my surrounding while still laying on the ground. The hideous room was fitted for an old money rich merchant with questionable taste in architecture. I cursed at the shit tons of white statues sculptured to torture the human's eyes and the endless row of ugly paintings on the wall which no doubt costed more than all the fucking kidneys in the universe.

I brought my hand to my face and felt the thick bandage on the crown of my head as I rose to the my feet, causing the ground to sway beneath my body. Fuck me.

The whole damn world was spinning which was fucking stupid because Adalina wasn't even here to do it. My belief in gravity was fading as I tried to steady myself by holding for dear life to the nearest wall. I glared at the moving painting in my hallucination and then cursed the soul altering pain throbbing in my bloody skull. I wouldn't be surprised if the fucker carved out my damn brain and shoved it back in.

Fuck that guy and fuck me because my wife was probably still waiting for the food that she wouldn't be getting anytime soon. Shit, she might even have a higher chance of getting my body delivered to her from yours truly in a box than the damn cheeseburger.

" Welcome back to the land of living, your royal highness. " an irritatingly deep voice drummed through my ears.

My head snapped up from the floor, staring toward the tall figure walking through the white double doors. He stepped out of the shadow with both of his hands tucked into his slacks pocket. I lazily looked at his stupid face. A boyish grin that seemed to be permanently spread across his mouth was still there even all these years later, judging by all his portraits I found hidden between the walls during one of my many late night treks around the palace.

I steadily stepped toward him. His brownish hair pushed back, a shade darker than Adalina's golden brown. My eyesight became clearer as I ignored the pain in head and the million questions rushing through it.

He was a carbon copy of her, the perfect definition of a male version of my wife. Same cheekbones, identical smiles, same eyes color and the same fucking blood running through their veins.

Except no one compared. Her eyes reminded me of expensive chocolate and my beloved Oreos. They sparkled with golden specks every time those sickeningly sweet chuckles escaped her mouth. His on the other hand, while sharing the same color, reminded me of a pile of shit.

And, maybe I was being biased as fuck but I didn't give a shit.

I raised an unamused eyebrow at him when we were head to head in front of each other. His stupid grin grew the same time I lifted my fist and punched it right off.

" Elian fucking Hasting. " I spat out of his name while he spat out blood.

I watched his lips curled up with pure amusement as he stumbled back, holding his jaw with his hand. I stalked forward and grabbed the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the wall. He casually leaned his head back, cocking an eyebrow at me.

" No one had said that name in twenty years. " a hoarse chuckle breathed out through his bloodied teeth.

" How long have I been out? " I grunted in his face.

" About a month or so. " he tilted his head to the side, shrugging his shoulders.

I narrowed my eyes at him, unimpressed. My fist collided with his face again a few more times until my knuckles bruised and I heard the satisfying crack of his jaw.