Dark Prince & the Doe

Chapter 3: A Hunter's Duty

Chapter Three: A Hunter's Duty

Calden

The eastern horizon purpled as the moon dipped into the west. Sulfur came clattering down before a crowd of people. Most of the hunters had already returned, their hunts laid out before them.

"Hail, Prince Calden of the Dark Depths!" the Duke announced. Well, at least Calden was immediately recognizable upon Sulfur, even if he wasn't going to win The Hunt. "What do you bring to King Darin's table!"

Calden huffed and swung out of his saddle, stumbling as he dragged the injured woman with him. "A healer!" he called; his voice, rough as rocks. "I require a healer!"

Laughter rose from the crowd and the Duke of Adders sidled closer. "Oh no!" he shouted, casting a hand over his brow as he played to the audience. "The poor prince of the Dark Depths has injured himself in The Hunt! Someone quick, bring him a bandage and a sweet kiss."

Calden snarled and pushed past the Duke, nearly sending the crowd-pleaser into the dirt as he carried the woman to the table where the king and princesses sat. The Adders Royal Guard put themselves between him and the king, lowering their spears ever so slightly in warning. Calden came to a stop, gasping for breath.

"I came across an injured woman at the Gilded Lake! She was at the Gates of Death when I got to her!" he shouted as loud he could manage. Everyone's eyes turned to him, intrigued but barren of the concern he'd hoped for. "I enchanted for hours just to call her back but it is not enough. Please, she needs a proper healer's help." He pulled the blankets away from her face. Golden hair spilled out, clumped together with dried blood and mud.

Gasps went up in the crowd. The short-haired princess covered her rose-painted lips with a quavering hand. Eyes wide, as if Death itself had appeared before her. 

"Oh, by the Sun's Aria!" another princess cried, clutching her braids as she pressed her palm over her heart. 

While all the others sat still as statues, wearing varying expressions of horror, one princess stood. Princess Adele, ablaze with the Sun's own determination. "Devarian! Someone fetch Devarian," she hollered, her voice overwhelming the crowd's chaotic murmurings. She swept down from the table, and people parted, giving her a path directly towards him. Her dress fluttered around her. Golden bells at her belted waist chimed in a warning beat.

"It's Princessa Cezanne!" someone screamed from the crowd. 

Cezanne? That wasn't one of the eleven princesses of Adders, was it? He glanced down at the deathly pale woman in his arms. Definitely not from Adders. Oh, curses. A thousand curses. A princessa.

"I'm here, Princess Adele!" A man in a green healer's robe struggled out of the crowd which hadn't deigned to part for him. 

It was smart of the King of Adders to have a healer present at an event where drink, high emotions and weapons were all present. The healer's robes rippled around his legs. Reaching out with one shaking hand, the healer pushed the coarse blanket from the woman's head. A fearful noise came from the back of Devarian's throat as he retreated a step.

"It is indeed Princessa Cezanne of Atrezino!" he shouted to the audience and cries went up.

Calden had shot a Princessa of Atrezino.

Atrezino, the Empire of Sky. Children of the First Aria. The Aria of Life. The ones who'd forced his people to the Depths, and kept their heels at his peoples' throats. The last person he should have shot, and the last person anyone would expect a Prince of Remeria to rescue.