Vanya

The hostile princess

Roman's POV

I remember the very first time I saw her. Short hair, dark eyes with an angry, almost hostile expression on her face, she was beautiful, no one dares to deny that, but it was clear that she was furious with everyone and everything around her. I understood that feeling a little too well, which made me all the more drawn to her. It was in one of those ridiculous balls where they celebrated the deceased soldiers who lost their precious lives for a stupid piece of land that will never hold their names like they held its name on their chests, on their souls.

"You look distraught, do you not like music and dancing?" I approached her, men's eyes occasionally focus on her but nobody dares to ask her for a dance; the princess of Angelia.

Her eyes met mine and she smiled, it wasn't polite or inviting, she was subtly mocking my very words.

"Not when they are dancing in 'respects' to the dead. I find it absurd and disrespectful, it isn't any different from dancing on top of exposed vulnerable corps." Oh. Strong words that I wholeheartedly agree with. intriguing.

"I see, so you refuse to dance, then?" She nodded, after a long, deep look into my eyes. Who would have thought that a princess could be so interesting? I was not getting a dance with her, but a nice conversation sounded like the better alternative.

"So who do you not like so much so that you are making that expression?" That got her to fully face my direction and take a few closer steps towards me.

"What expression?"

"That." I found myself tracing her features with the tips of my fingers like a fool. Forgetting that eyes were watching and that her own father was not so far away. The good thing is, her expression was gone, replaced with another that made my skin boil. She was distraught, almost disgusted.

"Are you mad? Now everyone will think you are interested in me, in a way that will make my own father watch you very intently. You fool!" She hissed.

It was not surprising, I have met women who were angry just like her, and I was not expecting her to be 'giddy' at the blatant interest another damned prince has shown her, to women like her, this was a threat instead of an advantage. It made me feel like I was being challenged, in a strange way, it amused me.

"I am sure no one will dare say a word about the feared princess, I heard you were immune to scandal. You shall be alright." She did not miss the sarcasm in my voice.

"Listen to me well, Roman, it is not a good idea to challenge me, you do not want that for your precious little privileged life. Now, could you kindly go and show your very unwanted affections somewhere else?" I liked this, it made me feel something other than resentment and crippling anger, I rarely get the chance to feel alive like this, to have my heart beating a little louder that usual. I wanted her, and I usually get what I want.

With that, I decided it was best to leave her with a smile for now. I would look at her from time to time, give my miserable eyes that have witnessed more death than life the chance to see and feel the beauty of her face, and I thought that was more than enough, for the time being.

Vanya, the things I hear about you...

My interest spiked as I watched how tender her expression had gotten once she noticed someone whom I assumed was a soldier, from the way he moved and looked, just like us, hollow and rigid. Was he special to her? He must be; from the way he made her whole face change and light up as if he was the only man present. No, he was, in that moment, the only human worthy of her smile. Blessed man, he was.

I waited until he left her side then followed him, I needed to know who he was to the hostile princess.

"You there! Stop this once." I used the prince tone, the one i hated the most; the one that made men reek of fear and hatred and envy, it was heartless and inhuman, but I had to learn it, had to use it, because the power we hold has a price and that price will always be our own humanity.

"Yes?"

"How do you know princess vanya?" His body stilled.

"Ah, her majesty is our beloved queen, and I am her humble soldier and guard." Hand to his heart at the mention of his queen. A humble soldier? Humble soldiers do not look their queens in the eye, he clearly was not a mere guard who would give his life to his queen, he was more personal than that.

"What is your name, if i may ask?" I had to remember that he did not answer to me, I was not his king, nor did I want to be.

"Amadeus." I intended on remembering that name.

I wanted to say more but I could not for some odd reason, i have learned from years of wars and battle for power that some people are simply naturals at it, some people are blessed by whoever it was up in those skies; for power follows them like it belongs to them and only them, Amadeus was one of those men, unfortunately. I felt suffocated next to him.

I had to go, his eyes demanded I do so, and my body was burning to leave.

I prayed to whoever was in charge of plotting wars to allow me to fight this man one day; I wanted his blood to splash all over the soil and burn my own face, he looked like the soldier you would be honored to fight, one of those who would leave you with scars you carry with pride and never forget, his face one of those faces that never leave your memory whether you kill them or lose sight of them in the rush of battle. Who knows? I might even lose to him, which was quite the fascinating thought.

"Where did you run off to? It is crucial you stay by my side in these times, son." I nodded, my eyes still focused on the empty spot where her guard was standing whilst talking to his queen.

"Father, there's an important matter I would like to discuss with you once we leave this ridiculous ball. I think you will be quite pleased with what I have planned." I said, low enough that only his ears would hear me. He smiled and kept looking at the same strange woman he was eying the entire evening. My father was shameless and very much the man to lose himself to a woman; the man of mistresses is what I always known him for. It was disturbing and irrational; the amount of women he got with, but he was the king after all and no amount of words from me would ever make him change his unpleasant self.

Soon enough I will never have to answer to this horrid mess of a man ever again.... I thought.