Chapter 1
“Nicolas, get back here!” Victoria, or Vicki, screamed, running after me.
Well, what can you do when you’re bored? Steal from your sister that’s what. Before you start judging me, being a prince is boring. Royalty is not my thing. At all. I don’t even want to be King of Arcadia. I don’t want to be in charge of a country. Now hey, I get that you think being royalty is awesome but it’s not.
I’m a sixteen year old that apparently has nothing better to do than train to be king for a whole country. I have raven black hair that for some reason always falls on top of my vibrant green eyes, especially when I run away from people. My dad, King Tobin III of Arcadia, is so insistent on me being king. Like what about finding your true love, or writing stories or even trying to pursue my culinary skills (which are very good, thank you very much). Oh well. I can’t convince my dad to not let me become king anyway. At this point, it’s only if I die, will I be free of this king nonsense.
“Nicolas! I’m not kidding!” I darted down the hallway and ran right into my dad, the king. Well fuck. That can’t be good. My harried eyes bored right into his fury filled face.
“Nicolas, what the fuck?” Vicki slid to a stop beside me, us sharing a glance. “Give that shit back right now! You are bound to be king, not a foolish fucking child. You moron!” With that, he slapped me. I stepped back holding my cheek where he had hit me.
“Victoria. Go to your quarters. Nicolas, let’s stay here and have a…discussion.” I gulped. Fuck that! I’m running.
“No! Nick come on, let’s go.” Vicki grabbed my arm, just as my father grabbed my shoulder and yanked me back towards him. “Dad. Let’s just be reasonable, please.” If her pleading eyes wouldn’t break this man’s heart, it had to be made of stone or some shit. Victoria had tried countless times to get me out of this shit, but she couldn’t. Just like my father won’t allow me to go unpunished.
“No. That is final. Now do I need to get guards to escort you to your quarters or will you go willingly?” I knew she was going to walk away. She had to. She promised me she would, all those years ago.
…5 Years Ago…
“You have to promise me, Vicki!” I pleaded, “You can’t say anything! Please!” I took both of her hands in mine, and my eyes stared right into her watering ones. Her features were like mine in every way imaginable. Same hair, eyes, same everything. I couldn’t let her get hurt too. Her sobs filled up the whole courtyard.
“Nick, I can’t! It hurts too much! People have to know!” Victoria put her two trembling hands in front of her eyes, covering them. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” She whispered to herself.
“You have to. Listen to me,” I took her hands in mine once again, “you cannot, you mustn’t say anything about the matter. For both of our safety. Promise me, you won’t.”
She sniffed, drawing back her tears. “I won’t. I promise.”
…Present Day…
“Well now, Nicolas. Come now, the punishment awaits. I’m thinking we will do both this time…” I gulped…but that would mean we…he wouldn’t…he hasn’t since I was like seven. Or would he…I hadn’t even realized we were in the ‘room of nightmares’ as I like to call it. This room was concrete from floor to ceiling, the walls filled with whips, rope, knives, swords, you get the picture. In the middle of the room, there’s a chair with bolts and restraints, where I was about to be locked in. On the back wall, there was a hanger where you could hang from with just one hand, ultimately breaking your wrist and a bed on the other end.
“Go sit in that chair. I”ll lock you in, in a second. I need to choose what I’m gonna…hurt you with.” He pondered. I had to comply. He couldn’t do anything too bad anyway because I had a meet and greet with the civilians. Fuck. Why did I even get caught? Like I coulda run, but no.
By the time I was in the chair he had already picked his poison. A metal baseball bat. This would be ever so fun as he restrained me in the seat.
“Dad, now wait a sec-” I tried with no avail as he started to lift the bat to swing at my knees.
“You call me sir! I am not your dad! I will never be, you disappointment!” He struck me hard making me scream out in agony. “You weakling! Can’t even take a simple beating?”
“Dad,” I started, “I mean sir! Sir, please!” There were tears in my eyes by now and my face was probably red as shit.
“No please!” He yelled, hitting me again, this time at my feet. I instinctively moved my legs only to realize what I had just done. Shit. My dad stopped swinging the bat and looked me dead in the eye, “What the hell did you just do.”
“I’m sorry sir,” I tried with no avail. Unfortunately I knew what was coming next.
He raised the bat again and sacked me on my feet, twice. I hissed at the pain, the only thing I could do was tightly hold at the restraints. To my surprise, he unlocked me from the chair, dragging me across the floor to the hanger. “Stand. Up.” He shouted, emphasizing each and every word. I complied even though my knees were almost broken and my feet were swollen and bruised. Dad grabbed my hand and locked it into place on the hanger, making me stand on just the tops of my toes. I heard my wrist snap and my arm was just dangling there. I looked at my dad in horror as he laughed, grabbing scissors and cutting my shirt off.
“Sir, wait. You already broke my wrist, do you really have to do more?” I pleaded with him, “Please,” my voice cracked hard, but I knew this would only get worse.
“No. Now shut up you sissy before I’ll make you. And for your own sake, I would shut up. You get 3 hours, remember, I’m always watching.” As he pointed to the camera on the wall, I knew I was screwed. My legs, knees, and probably even my feet were going to break and I can’t do shit about it. Well shit fuck. I’m doomed.
