WARNING: This chapter contains minor scenes of violence. Read at your own discretion.

***

Dylan trembled with a strange dread whenever Axil was near her. She once made a list of the things she was afraid of. The list went on for several pages, changing as she grew. The only thing that didn't change was what she wrote at the top each time. Axil de Beaumon. If there was one thing that absolutely shook her to her core—it was him.

She pulled at her captured wrist, but his hold on her remained absolute. She was stuck. She was stuck, and the feeling of his chest against her back made her nauseous.

Lucas glanced over at them, wiping away his sweat on the sleeve of his shirt. He'd have to keep his own feelings on a tight leash if he wanted to get closer to Dylan. It was obvious she mistrusted him and his affection. He turned away, feeling angry at the thought that Axil had taken his place as Dylan's brother.

"What do you want?" she whispered through quivering lips. Dylan could feel his ragged breath against the top of her head. The feeling made her sick to her stomach.

"You're really starting to piss me off." His voice had turned dark and angry, his fingers tightening around her small wrist.

Dylan winced, a small sound of pain escaping her trembling lips. He loosened his grip for a second, only to rewrap his fingers around her hand that was still clutching onto her sword. The warmth of his hand bled into hers.

"Do you really think a lowly bitch like you can take my position?" he asked in a low voice. "It doesn't matter if you're smart, strong or even a genius. Your blood is filthy. You have no right."

Dylan wanted to run. She wanted to move. Despite this, her entire body was totally paralyzed with fear. She was like a helpless deer stuck in headlights. His grip on her sword hand tightened as he moved her arm so the blade of her sword lined up with her own throat.

Afraid to move her head due to the pressure of the sword against her throat, her lips moved slowly: "I don't want anything that's yours."

'Lucas.'

If she called out to him, would he help her?

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing. You can't have it. You can't have what's mine."

She pushed against the firm wall of his chest and tried to twist her wrist free, but he held her in place. The sword dug deeper into her throat as she struggled, piercing her skin. She whimpered slightly from the pain.

"Live like you're dead," he whispered aggressively into her ear. "If you don't, I will kill you."

Axil eased the pressure of the blade against her neck. She raised her free hand and pushed the sword from her throat, lurching forward to escape. The blade of her sword dripped red, like the cut on her neck.

"Oh my," Axil said, louder, "you should be careful."

At his words, Lucas glanced over at Dylan who was dripping blood from a cut on her neck.

"It looks like my sister cut herself while practicing," Axil said, eyes glowing with menace. "You really should be more careful, sister. Playing with swords is a lot more dangerous than you think. You could get cut."

Dylan applied direct pressure to the wound as he turned his back and walked away. As she watched his back shrink into the distance, her chest began to hurt and her legs tensed beneath her.

'Looks like this game suddenly got a lot more interesting.'

"Shit, are you okay?" asked Lucas, carefully examining the wound on her neck. "How did you manage to cut yourself like that? We need to get help."

Dylan stared down at her hands, coagulating blood dripping from her fingers. It was red. Red like her roses. Red like her feelings for her father, the Duke. Red like the flames she would use to burn Axil de Beaumon to the ground.

***

Laikin walked toward the training fields with a frown. He needed to see her. He always felt better when he saw her, when he touched her, when he was with her. He didn't regret punching the Crown Prince, but he wouldn't have done it if he'd known Dylan would've been upset with him.

At first, he thought Dylan was only a good tool. She was smart and clever with an innocent look in her eyes. She was the perfect person to scheme with, since she resembled himself so much. He wasn't sure at what point things started to change for him.

"What's with all this commotion?" he muttered to himself, watching the swordsmen run around in a frenzied state. "Hey," he called out to a passing student, "what's going on here?"

The student looked at him with a panicked expression. "Lady Dylan accidentally slit her own throat!" he screamed, pointing toward something.

Laikin had to force himself to turn around and look at her, and when he did, he felt his heart shatter into a million pieces.

Dylan let out a moan as pain signals flowed through her weakening body. She could hear footsteps running towards her, and she immediately forced herself to look up.

"Laikin?" she asked with wide brown eyes. "What are you—"

"What the hell were you thinking?" he said breathlessly, dropping to his knees beside her.

"It was an accident," she assured him. "My hand slipped, that's all."

"Your hand slipped?" he echoed with an accusing glare. Dylan, who was extremely meticulous and careful, made a mistake as grave as cutting her own throat. It didn't make sense. "This better not be another one of your plans," he muttered.

'I wouldn't go this far.'

She sighed, pressing down on the wound with a shaky hand. "It's okay, really. I'm going to return to my room now."

"You should seek medical help," Lucas said. "This could be dangerous. It's better to get it checked out."

"There's no need to worry. I can assure you that my maids are extremely capable"—she drew out the words for a deeper effect—"and skilled with medicine."

It was the truth. Dylan's health was like a ticking time-bomb. Owing to this, her maids were especially skilled with medicine and healthcare.

"I can't just let you return like this," Laikin said, reaching out to dab her wound gently with a handkerchief. "At least let me accompany—"

"No," she cut him off.

She wasn't particularly mad at him, but she didn't want to be around him right now, either. She was almost dragged into a scandal involving the Royal Family because of his carelessness.

"Okay," he said, a flash of hurt crossing his face.

"I didn't mean it like that," she said, gently touching his hand with her own. "I meant that Lucas will take me to my room. He was with me when... when I cut myself."

Lucas took her hand and helped her up.

"I'll be returning to my room now," she told Laikin. "We can... talk later, okay?"

"Okay," he responded, quietly.

They walked away together, across the newly cut fields towards the academy doors. Dylan, whose eyes were burning with anger, had no intention of heading to her room. She was going straight to Caspian. Axil had just started a storm... and she was going to be the one to end it.



AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I am currently drinking while writing this...

That is all.

That is today's note.