Dominance of Viled Heart

Chapter 12 (Part 1)

“So it’s true, you have looks to boast of,” The prince commented, his gaze fixed on the man before him—his beauty almost unreal.

I blinked. 'What?' The unexpected praise caught me off guard. ‘Is he gay?’

Before I could fully process the thought, the smirk that followed erased any doubt, replacing my confusion with a sharper sense of unease.

With a subtle gesture, the prince signaled to one of his warriors. The movement was deliberate, commanding. In an instant, the warrior forced the woman beside the beautiful man to her knees. My confusion gave way to a sinking realization. The resemblance between the two was undeniable—siblings, perhaps? Or something more disturbing?

“You will be a great addition to my collection,” the prince murmured, his voice laced with cruel satisfaction.

The handsome man erupted in outrage. “Don’t touch my sister, you dam—!” His cry was cut off as two warriors grabbed him, pinning him down with ruthless efficiency.

The prince of Marceau, still lounging in his throne, tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Ah, Prince Richard of Homonhon. It’s been a while indeed. Did you enjoy my gift?”

The words hung in the air, thick with malice. At the mention of the "gift," the woman—Eliza—let out a choked sob.

A chill ran down my spine. I didn't fully grasp the depth of their conflict, but it was clear—Richard and his sister were in grave danger. The scene before me mirrored my own desperate situation on the day I first arrived in this world.

Richard, despite being restrained, suddenly twisted, breaking free in a burst of sheer desperation. He lunged forward, striking the warrior holding Eliza.

“Eliza!” His voice cracked with panic as he grabbed her trembling figure. His grip on her arm was tight, protective.

“Run, Eliza! GO!!” His urgency was a command, a plea, a desperate promise that he would shield her, no matter the cost.

“But where? W-what about you?!” Eliza’s voice trembled, caught between fear and hesitation.

“I’ll be fine. You know what I’m capable of, so go... GO!!”

Eliza hesitated for only a second before closing her eyes and bolting away. Richard, his gaze never leaving her retreating figure, mouthed something I couldn’t hear. A prayer, maybe.

But there was no time for escape. The palace had already fallen.

“It’s no use,” the prince of Marceau remarked coldly. “She’ll be back here in no time. This struggle means nothing.”

With chilling ease, he stepped forward, shattering Richard’s stolen sword with a single strike. The next blow—his fist, brutal and swift—drove into Richard’s stomach. Another followed, slamming against his face.

Richard crumpled to the floor, bruised and battered.

‘No! Not the face!’ I winced involuntarily.

“Tie him down. Find the princess,” the prince ordered, unmoved by the scene. Then, as if suddenly remembering, his gaze shifted—to me.

“Historian.”

I stiffened.

“Read this.”

A scroll was shoved into my hands.

Swallowing my nerves, I took it and bowed slightly, trying not to meet Richard’s furious, resigned gaze. I carefully unfolded the parchment, my mind racing.

Why? Why ask me to read it when he knew I couldn’t fully decipher it? Was he testing me?

“What should we do with the prince, Your Highness?” a voice asked.

“Kill him.”

The words were sharp. Decisive.

Without thinking, I spoke. “No.”

Silence.

All eyes turned to me. Even Richard’s.

The prince’s sword was suddenly at my throat. “You’d better explain yourself.” His voice was quiet, dangerous.

I swallowed hard. “Yes, Your Highness,” I said quickly. “Unfortunately, this scroll is different from the ones we’ve seen so far. It contains information I cannot—wait, let me explain!” I added hastily as the blade pressed closer.

“If you can’t read it, you’re of no use to me,” he said, unimpressed.

“I... didn’t say I can’t read it at all.” My mind raced. One misstep, and I’d never see my world again. “What I mean is, this scroll contains words that only a citizen of Homonhon would understand.”

Silence. His grip on the sword tightened.

Desperately, I pressed on. “Earlier, I saw inscriptions on the palace pillars—they resemble the characters on this scroll. That’s why I believe I’ll need someone from the royal family to fully interpret it.”

A long pause. The prince’s gaze was calculating.

“You only need one person, correct?”

“I... I think so,” I managed, feeling my stomach twist.

“Then we still have the princess. Kill him.”

No. No, no, no.

“What if—!” The words burst from me before I could stop them. “What if we fail to retrieve the princess?”

The prince’s gaze turned icy. “Are you questioning the capabilities of my warriors?”

I took a steadying breath. “No, Your Highness. I’m suggesting that Prince Richard and Princess Eliza might know something crucial about the palace’s structure. There’s a strong possibility that hidden passages exist—passages that could help the princess escape.”

Richard, despite his battered state, managed to smirk through his bloodied lips. “I didn’t realize you had intelligent people around you, Michaelli.” His voice was hoarse, but triumphant. “My people have already secured my sister. You won’t get what you seek.”

Hope flickered in my chest. My bluff had worked—at least partially.

Michaelli’s jaw tensed. “Lock him up in the dungeon. Find the princess.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

Richard was dragged away, bound and beaten, as warriors scattered to search the palace.

So the prince’s name was Michaelli. Huh. I probably should’ve known that before now.

“And you.”

I snapped to attention. Michaelli’s gaze pinned me down.

“You’d better extract what you need from him and transcribe that scroll as soon as possible.”

“Sure, Your Highness.” I nodded quickly in agreement.

Wait.

Did I just... give a thumbs-up?

It was instinctive, almost comical. A ridiculous contrast to the gravity of the moment.

Michaelli’s gaze lingered on me, as if trying to decipher whether I was an idiot or just hopelessly out of place. Then, without a word, he turned away, refocusing on the hunt for the princess.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

The fate of both princes—and maybe the entire empire—now rested on what happened next.