"I see you finally decided to wake up, your highness."
That was the first thing I heard when I opened my eyes. For a fleeting moment, I thought I was dreaming. After all, I was called your highness. Dragons are powerful, plus everything around me was in ruins—it was only fair to assume I was some long-lost prince kidnapped and forced into servitude, right?
Yet reality is cruel. The moment I looked at his face, I knew I wasn't the one in charge. Why would I dream up someone more handsome than me? That would make for a terribly flawed dream, in my opinion—just saying.
I turned my head again, taking in the ruined scenery. Still destroyed. I sighed and looked back at the man I assumed was our new captor.
They do say it's good to leave a nice first impression. "Uh-uhm…" I cleared my throat before remembering that pure-bloods don't talk to half-bloods—or so the assholes used to say. I wondered if that rule was valid, but considering this guy looked like a higher-up figure (and was insanely handsome), I decided not to risk it.
As I made that decision, the elf crouched down, met my eyes, and said, "Won't you answer my question? Or is it that you can't speak?"
Feeling personally attacked—or rather, looked down on—irked me so much I couldn't stop myself from blurting, "Of course I can speak. I just didn't want to be rude."
"Rude?" he asked, tilting his head like I'd said something utterly strange, which could be true with the well-off aura he radiated.
To be honest, I felt like I was tainting his sight by making someone that handsome look at me. This body was thin and lean—malnourished, probably. Nothing could be done about that; he was a slave after all. Yet the elf kept staring with such intensity that I could hardly breathe.
Luckily, he broke the tension, maybe reading my thoughts—or deceiving me by being nice so I'd lower my guard.
"You must be cold. Go over there and get some clothes," he said.
I froze, unsure if it was a trap. Shocked that he was still talking to me despite me being a half-blood.
"Are you going to wait till all the nice clothes are gone?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No," I replied quickly, walking off as fast as I could.
When I turned back for one last look, he stood smiling faintly—like a prince of war, born to vanquish this world's foes. The sight made my heart tighten, and I hurried away.
At the clothes distribution line, I realized I was the last one everyone was waiting for. Remembering that I was still naked—and that we'd all seen each other's nudity—made me want to revive those bastards just to kill them again myself. Sadly, impossible. Plus, I could never get married now that my "goods" and face were public.
I shoved that aside, pulled on a yellow top and faded jeans, and actually looked… decent. My horns gleamed proudly. I felt confident—well, until I walked out from behind the tree and came face-to-face with him again.
"Once again, you make us wait, your highness," he said, voice mocking—or maybe teasing. "All high and mighty, aren't we?"
"It's technically not my fault. I got knocked out. Then I woke up, took in the situation, and you stopped me by talking," I muttered.
"I see. So it's my fault, then?" His eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Umm, yes," I said, tilting my head to get a better look at his emerald eyes. Huh, what am I thinking? I slapped myself, startling him. "You can't think of an enemy that way! Must be because you've been deprived of men since your last life," I thought bitterly.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, clearly curious.
"Pardon me, but we're keeping people waiting," I said, stepping aside and walking toward the others. Thankfully, he didn't stop me.
Back with the crowd, I tried to steady my breathing. My heart raced like a hunted animal's.
Then, out of nowhere, a tiny fairy fluttered beside me.
"Are you alright? You look pale," she said.
"I'm fine. Just… in shock. This is my third captor now," I replied.
"Captor?" she repeated, confused.
"Yes, captor. Did I say something wrong?"
"Obviously. He's not a captor—he's the shunned crown prince."
"A prince?" I gasped. "As in royalty? Even royals are weird. I wonder if I'll survive a draginkin's lifespan at this rate."
"Yes, that kind of prince. What else would he be, silly? By the way, thank you for saving me earlier. Why did you do it? I'm not worth the trouble."
I met her gaze sharply. "Don't ever say that again. You deserve to live as much as anyone. Why should we die for others' satisfaction? Being half-bloods doesn't make us unworthy. Our parents loved each other just as much as any full-blood's. Helping each other is necessary—so why wouldn't I?"
I didn't notice the whole crowd had gone silent until I stopped speaking. "Umm, sorry for the commotion," I said, bowing.
When I looked back, her eyes were wet. "Thank you so much. You're so kind. My name's Emily. Can we be friends?"
I paused. On Earth, this would be the start of a rom-com. But here? I wasn't sure I was worthy of love.
"Of course, Emily. I'd love that. My name's Luminous."
"Luminous? What does that mean? Sounds strange."
"Oh, never mind. I don't remember my past much."
"I'm sorry I asked," she said, deflated.
"I don't mind. You were just trying to know me better. I appreciate it," I said gently.
She perked up instantly. Maybe I did a good job. Or maybe Emily was just too easy to please.
Days later, after a long march, we arrived at the capital—Fairview Citadel, Capital City Of Elarion.
By then, Emily and I were like siblings. She talked too much, but when you've got nothing else, even a chatty fairy can be happiness itself.
A grand procession filled the streets—the king had returned. I wondered if the prince's "shunned" image was an act; why else would everyone be celebrating?
We were placed in barracks, told we'd be trained as soldiers. They should've just let us die doing hard labor instead.
"Hey, you," a guard barked.
"Yes?"
"Follow me."
As we walked, I watched full-blooded children playing freely in the streets and wondered why we never got that chance.
Soon, we arrived before the prince. I stood stiff, waiting for his words.
"You'll serve under me now, as one of my personal guards," he said.
The hall erupted with protest.
"Your highness, this is unfit! Think of what your father would say—you are the crown prince! You can't set such an example—"
The adviser's voice died instantly under a sharp, murderous glare.
"My apologies, your highness," he murmured, bowing low.
The prince turned back to me. "Do you mind?"
"No, your highness. Your will is mine to obey," I said. Scornful gazes burned into me.
"Good. You may leave," he said.
As I walked back, I replayed everything in my head. It didn't feel staged. The hatred for half-bloods was real. But then I overheard someone muttering,
"We're all doomed. The king hates half-bloods—he'll come for our heads soon."
I thought bitterly, Maybe he's only keeping us alive to defy his father. Maybe he's using us for rebellion.
Either way, I needed to understand this world's secrets before they swallowed me whole. Because in Elarion, no one could tell who the next wolf in sheep's clothing might be.