I Tamed the Monstrous Prince - Chapter 1
“Where is my consort?” Prince Cesar, first in line to the Imperial throne, had returned after a two-year campaign, driving the demonic hordes back beyond the borderlands. The first words he spoke upon arriving at the capital’s citadel concerned the well-being of his betrothed.
An unsettling tension hung heavy in the air, palpable in the expressions of the attending servants. Before he could decipher its meaning, the head servant addressed him. “Her Highness, the Princess Consort, is unwell and currently convalescing.”
“Unwell?” Cesar questioned sharply. “What ails her?”
They had exchanged letters numerous times during the war, and she had never mentioned any illness. A burning anxiety began to gnaw at him.
“She has expressed her intention to attend tonight’s banquet. Your Highness will be able to see her then, after you have rested from your journey,” the servant continued.
Cesar remained silent, a muscle twitching in his jaw. One of his squires, sensing his master’s impatience, tentatively reached for his gauntlet.
“Immediately—” Cesar began, but the head servant smoothly interjected, sensing the volatile energy radiating from the prince. Throughout the long and arduous war, the thought of his beloved Irenea awaiting his return had been his sole motivation.
“If you see Her Highness in such a state, she might be startled,” the servant cautioned.
At those words, Cesar relented, though he longed to rush to the Emerald Palace where she resided and shower her with kisses.
‘Just a little longer, just a little longer and I’ll see you.’
But the ever-attentive servants and squires gently dissuaded him.
“The stench of demonic blood still clings to you, Your Highness. It might frighten the Princess Consort.”
“Her?” Cesar scoffed. Irenea wouldn’t be frightened by something so trivial. Yet, he nodded. True, she projected strength, but beneath the surface lay a surprising fragility. He always feared he might break her if he held her too tightly.
He hadn’t slept, eaten, or properly rested in days, his journey fueled by a desperate need to return. The hollows of his cheeks accentuated the sharp angles of his jaw. If he appeared before her like this, she would surely scold him. So, he allowed himself to be guided by the servants, submitting to a bath and the rituals of grooming.
Two years. Two long years, and finally, he would be reunited with his beloved. His heart pounded in his chest like a caged storm.
The grand hall of the Imperial Palace buzzed with activity, the victory celebrations having already commenced several days prior. Brilliant chandeliers illuminated the space, making it brighter than day. The air, however, was thick with the cloying scent of incense and the clamor of clinking glasses and boisterous laughter. It pressed against his lungs, making it difficult to breathe.
A herald announced his arrival, “His Royal Highness, Prince Cesar, rightful heir to the Crown of the Holy Iron Cross, Lord of the Wyverns, and Protector of the Aestrian Empire!”
As if by magic, the boisterous chatter ceased, replaced by hushed whispers.
“That’s him.”
“Truly magnificent. To think he was once cursed…”
“They say he has completely mastered his dragon blood.”
Cesar, possessing superhuman senses, heard every word, yet they held no meaning for him. His gaze swept across the hall, searching for his lifelong companion, his beloved. He looked for the shimmering, wheat-gold hair that rippled like reeds in the wind and the vibrant, spring-green eyes. Irenea. Ren. His one and only.
Then, the herald announced, “Her Highness, the Princess Consort!”
Cesar’s heart leaped, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He turned, eager to finally see her.
Something was wrong.
A woman in a crimson gown approached, her gaze fixed on him. “Your Highness,” she greeted him. “Congratulations on your victory.”
It wasn’t Irenea. He knew this woman. It was Giovinetta, Irenea’s half-sister.
