Planning The Psychotic Prince's Demise

The mammoth of a man starts banging his fists against his naked chest, enticing the crowd to make some noise.

It works too effectively. The screams, aggressive and enthusiastic, rumble against the drums of my ears—defeaning. Even the children are yelling like they want to see bloody murder. It's as terrifying as it is amusing.

Heart pounding, I search the sea of faces only to find that Aurelia is nowhere to be seen. My stomach drops.

Knowing how naive the girl can be, I start to panic. A thousand worst case scenarios rush through my mind. Abducted? Lost? Threatened? Sold off to an auction?

My goal is to leave quickly and unscathed, but in this scenario, even the unscathed part is uncertain.

Where is she? Where could she be?

I try to leave. An excitable old woman elbows me in the stomach as she cheers and that's when I realize—there's no escaping. I'm going to have to stay put until the crowd clears.

Aurelia, for your own sake, stay safe.

The cloaked figure doesn't display the same dramatics as his opponent. He's less eccentric but edgy all the same, face obscured by a dark shadow.

A cloak, seriously? And covering your entire face? It's something straight out of a twelve-year-old boy's fantasy.

The next thing I know, he's named himself Black Venom.

The difference in size is immense. The cloaked fighter looks like an ant next to the Goliath. Except, I don't think this is a David situation. It doesn't help that he looks like a phony, more capable of acting out a character rather than engaging in combat.

The big, intimidating fighter makes the first move and attempts to tackle the cloaked figure.

Oh, pitiful, cloaked stranger, you don't stand a chance—

I'm left breathless as the cloaked fighter dodges with swift movements. He moves like wind, avoiding every jab thrown his way. The crowd's silence is almost immediate.

He's fast, faster than anything or anyone I've ever witnessed.

Blink and you'll miss it.

In three moves, the large man is brought down, chest to the ground and arms pinned behind his back. He starts thrashing, yelling, but after a few failed attempts, he slouches and taps out.

The screams are back again, louder this time, and I recognize my voice blending with the others'. My chords are vibrating, a bit strained as I yell in victory.

It's not even my victory to celebrate, but the exhilaration feels all the same.

After a few minutes spent cheering, the crowd starts to dissipate, getting smaller and smaller. I look back to the circle only to find the giant man still on the ground and the cloaked figure gone.

How mysterious.

The stranger was a seasoned assassin, most likely. Something about that leaves my cheeks burning from attraction.

A skilled man is ideal in any situation. But a mysterious, skilled man who is more than capable of protecting himself against bigger opponents? Yeah, there's a lot of appeal there.

He's gone, however. A momentary infatuation.

My feet thud against the ground as I run around the streets, searching for a familiar bundle of light blonde hair.

Where could she be?

Too much time has passed, there's too much ground to cover. I start with the most likely places—stores we've entered, stalls we've examined.

Hope drives me forward and I only stop when Aurelia's pitched voice catches my attention. She's in a dark alleyway, doing who knows what.

"That is no way to treat an animal!" She squeaks. There's a stray hissing in her arms, black fur and peculiar purple eyes.

A group of thugs surround the two helpless creatures.

What did she get into this time?

"What's going on here?" I assert myself. There's no way for us to fight a group of burly men and make it out standing. At best, I can intimidate them into leaving us alone.

"Is this your brat?" One of them asks, attempting to pull Aurelia's arm.

She steps away, face contorted in disgust.

"Aurelia serves under me." I answer. "Whatever situation she's found herself in is my responsibility."

In hindsight, it's a stupid thing to say. Revealing that information puts both of us in danger. But appearing important might be enough to deter the thugs.

The unfortunate part? They don't look deterred.

"Look miss," one of the thugs says. He's small, smaller than the other men, seems like the type of guy with more bark than bite. "The little blonde here interrupted us in the middle of an interrogation. Now, if you hand over the cat, there will be no trouble at all. You can forget this ever happened!"

The feline makes a sound in protest, as if it understands what the thug just said.

"What is the cat to you?" I ask.

Clearly, there are no good intentions within the group of rugged men. As much as I want to avoid getting into trouble, cruelty isn't something I'm willing to overlook.

The small man narrows his eyes. "None of your business. That cat's not as helpless as you think."

"I see." I inhale.

I weigh the options on my hands. Not much, other than a heavy bag of useless trinkets.

I turn around, facing Aurelia, watching as the cat digs its claws into her arms, retaliating with hisses. It's not, in any way, normal—that's for sure.

Keeping the cat can mean no good for the two of us. Giving it up might be the best option here.

But it's still a living being, clearly hostile out of fear. And the blonde's eyes, lavender and innocent, are nothing but pleading. Wordlessly, Aurelia begs me to protect her, to trust her judgement.

"If you want it," I mumble. I hear the men shuffle in attention, I can't see their movements, vision zeroed in on Aurelia's wide eyes. "Have it."

My body twists as I throw a heavy weight into the body of the small man. A dark mass thuds against his chest, landing in his arms.

He's distracted by the impact.

Before they can process the situation, my feet are already shuffling. Passersby watch and gasp as two young ladies sprint through a crowd with a stray holding on for its dear life.

The thugs, angered beyond words, violently attempt to push through the sea of people.

Forunately, most of them are big men, making it difficult for them to squeeze through narrow alleyways. For once, I bet, their size is a disadvantage.

We break into a random saloon, upbeat music playing as we evade the hands of murderous thugs. I run upwards, pulling Aurelia with me into a bedroom.

There's two bare women inside, and a man with auburn hair.