"What do you want us to do about it?" Langley asks after my visit to the nurse. He’s still staring at the bandage across my face and the bruise that reaches from one eye to the next. I look like a truck hit me. Who knew Quinton could hit so hard? His fists are like rocks! Not that I didn't get him good either, but his injuries are hidden. Not fair.

"Nothing," I reply, trying desperately not to touch my face. If my father finds out, he'll be furious. Probably even pull me out of school. I won’t let that happen. I’m not getting stuck in that palace to wither away.

The nurse insisted I call and inform my father of what had happened. I said to her that I'm a boy, after all, and I get into trouble all the time. She bought it and I promised her that if my father did find out and was angered by it that I would make sure she wouldn't get in trouble.

Part of me did want her to tell my father, though. I know exactly what he'd do. He would come storming down here in an instant. He would have Quinton expelled immediately. But… would he think that being in school is bad for me? My previous thought of being taken away is what stopped me from allowing her to call. I've been here for a short while and although Quinton bugs me to no end... I like it here. I don't want to go back to being trapped in that box. I want to see new people. I want to talk with people my age. I want to learn about sports. I want to play sports! I want to learn how to fight by brawling with the other kids rather than an instructor. I want to make friends and enemies. (Seems I’ve already got one of those.)

I want to do everything that normal people do... even if I know, deep down, that I’ll never be normal. I should at least try, right? I need to stay in school...

And I also don't want to tell him because of what Quinton said. I can't bring myself to do it. I won't go running to my father for help. If I'm going to get rid of this brat, than I am going to do it myself.

"What do you mean ‘nothing’? Look what he did to your face!" Langley says as he points to said bruised face.

I swat his hand away. Growling, I look over Langley's shoulder to the culprit across the room. To make matters worse, he's still sitting in the damn chair that made us fight in the first place. I think he arrives early to class just so he can grab it. What an immature sack of shit.

"I want to beat him myself," I say, more to myself than Langley. I want to prove to him that it isn't only the king he should fear, but also me. I am the prince and I will teach him to treat me as such. He thinks he's better than me because he knows how to fight or because he's top of the class? I'll show him. I'll learn how to fight better than anyone else in the school! I will bring up my grades. I will crush him in every way possible.

Langley chuckles, which makes me send my glare to him instead. He frowns apologetically and answers my unspoken question. "It's just... I've never seen you so determined do something before. It's interesting."

"You think my desire to crush someone to dust is interesting? What's wrong with you?"

"Shouldn't you be asking yourself that? The one who has a desire to crush someone into dust."

"Everyone has a worst enemy, and mine is that thing.” I point to the black-eyed demon across the room. As if he heard me, the boy looks over and actually has the audacity to smirk upon seeing my black and blue face.

My hatred for him only grows. Can a person truly hate someone to this extent? I never imagined I would hate someone with a passion hotter than a thousand burning suns. It is to the point that the moment I see him my blood boils. I wonder if he feels the same? Or does he find my existence more of an annoyance than something to engender his hatred?

For some reason thinking that I mean so little to him pisses me off more. I want him to hate me to the same extent that I hate him. I want him to feel uncomfortable when I'm around. I want him to have to look over his shoulder for me. I want his teeth to grind when he hears my voice. I want to annoy him to the point that being in the same room drives him mad. I just want to piss him off as much as he does me!

Oh wow, I've got problems. I think I need a therapist...

Deciding it is best not to question my own sanity, I try to come up with a plan to show Quinton how terrifying I can be. I obviously cannot win against him in a physical match. Sparring with my instructors has not taught me enough to take on Quinton, who clearly has more experience than me. That is to be expected, though, since he’s clearly been at Thorton’s longer than I have. I know he was showing “restraint” the last time or I would have had a broken bone within the first ten seconds of our wrestling. I am sad to say that physical violence is out of the question. For now. Give me a few more training sessions and I am sure I can beat him!

I need to get some dirt on him, find out his weaknesses. It should be easy enough for me. After that, I will devise the perfect plan to rid myself of the biggest pest of my life with my own power. Not my father’s, but mine.