ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴅᴇᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ❅ 𝕽𝖔𝖞𝖆𝖑 𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖑𝖊𝖘

❝𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 11❞

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THE CALM PRINCE

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K06 ‖ A Royal Vengeance: Famous Destinations

There is no satisfaction in vengeance unless the offender has time to realize who it is that strikes him, and why retribution has come upon him.
― Arthur Conan Doyle

𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕲𝖚𝖎𝖉𝖊:
Italic words — the thoughts of a character / a foreign language is spoken
Bold and italic words — a lie, only when Princess Caitlyn's around
Bold, italic and underlined words — the timeline of memories, past, hallucinations etc.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Year 2039
Private Residence of the Royal Family, Saudi Arabia
[the game ended]

For someone who was forcibly repatriated, the young prince of Saudi Arabia was unusually calm and collected unlike most who would have lost their minds.

Dinner came and went as usual for someone who was imprisoned in his own room. Alone, silent and cold. Servants moved around him, attending to his every need, not that he had much. Between bites, Prince Uthman would occasionally glance to the side of his enormous bedroom where a tree perch stood, empty and lonely in the dark corner. Then, it was time for his Isha prayers. A prayer he offered with proper focus and humility.

After the servants came for the last time to clean up his room and put away the prayer rug, Prince Uthman was left alone to his own devices. He spent his time as usual by staring out of the open window. Looking at the dark expanse of the night sky, the prince's thoughts wandered to his eagle, Weir. He was happy that the avian predator would be free to soar the skies as it liked while he himself stared out into the night from his window seat like a caged bird.

He tried to shake away any thoughts of the harm his eagle might encounter. He did not wish to believe that his own brother would be so cruel to harm an innocent creature. While being robbed of his freedom and company, Prince Uthman stayed grateful for everything else that he had at the moment. A roof over his head, delicious meals brought to him on time and servants attending to him day in, day out. 

Lost in his thoughts, the prince barely noticed the appearance of his servants until they approached him.

"A guest has arrived for you, your highness," his head servant whispered in Arabic, holding a hand out to help him up.

The young prince was then ushered to put on a robe, too heavy for his liking, over his nightwear.

It was uncommon for them to disturb his nightly peace and it was more uncommon for anyone to visit him at this hour, especially not his own brother. Wrapped in the weighty garment, the prince moved awkwardly while his servants half dragged him to the living room in his quarters.

Then he waited as his servants went out to escort the guest in.

While he thought of many people who would visit him at this hour, including his own mother, Prince Uthman did not expect a tall Nordic girl to walk through those doors, escorted by his head servant.

"Shukran," the girl thanked his servant, the Arabic rolled off her tongue effortlessly.

She turned to face him, ice blue eyes meeting his hazel orbs. With delicate features and a head of luxurious pale gold hair, she held an aura of sophisticated aloofness, looking equally elegant and intimidating. Prince Uthman did not need to be a genius to know that this was none other than the Crown Princess of Norway herself whose wealth and influence rivaled that of his brother's. This was also his first time meeting her in person.