An Unwilling Prince Chapter 41: Red and White

“Ciley?” Jonathan quietly said, drawing in a quick breath through his teeth. He was shocked by the sudden fight, and the appearance of the crazy lady who he rejected all the way back in Maskiff.

The ice spikes of the mage were quickly launched towards Oceton.

Oceton shrieked and the ones going near him turned to water and fell to the ground.

Ciley cursed under her breath. She seemed to have suffered no loss in sight from their previous encounter, but she had paid for it with something else. Her eyes were not the eyes she had before; they were far too different in color to be mistaken as brown instead of the vibrant white they were.

Oceton released several bursts of fire which were blocked by ice.

Jonathan had already shot to his feet. He was moving to support Oceton’s attack.

“Her eyes are white.” Chester knew what that meant, by the fables and not through experience. Necromancy was only a part of the ritualistic types of magic. It was outlawed, but everyone knew that ritualistic magic drained color from the recipient and gave color to the user; all undead had white eyes. The bard wasn’t sure how they had been tracked, but it was likely through some sort of ritual as well.

Jonathan called out, trying to distract her from Oceton, “Ciley?”

Ciley held out her hands and smiled. She wore no gloves, but perhaps she was used to the cold. “A new friend helped me. And this time, even if I hurt you too much, he can help me. I won’t lose a lover ever again.”

Tam immediately retreated. She knew when she would only be a burden in a fight.

“Protect the kid!” Jonathan looked back and yelled.

Chester was going to, but Jonathan had unknowingly run into danger.

Jonathan looked in front of him and upwards. He could see the ice spikes falling towards him.

Ciley was too focused on her fight against Oceton to notice that she was going to harm her beloved.

Chester cursed. He grabbed Jonathan’s shoulder and pulled. The bard turned around and hoped that the ice wouldn’t hit anything too vital.

Jonathan’s hand slid on the snow and pebbles as he tried to stop himself from banging his head against the ground.

Chester’s hopes were in vain. He had at least two spikes that had punctured through to his stomach. He only screamed after he hit the ground.

Jonathan ignored his scraped hands and the cold. He pulled off his coat and pressed it against where the wounds were gushing angry, red blood that dripped down the snow. The transmigrator had seen far too much bloody snow—too much red and white—today. Unfortunately, their opponent was far smarter this time.

It had gone too far.

He could no longer only use those methods. He couldn’t save people, at least not all of them. His best friend was sometimes wrong and this was one of those times.

He used the cold snow to wipe his friend’s blood off. Jonathan stood up. “Ciley,” he called. “Oceton, back off.”

The bird seemed confused, but obeyed. He chirped angrily and went to shield the young page who had flattened herself against a nearby tree.

“Yes, my darling Jonathan?” Ciley replied. She seemed happy at the attention, yet somewhat shy.

“Come over here.”

Ciley’s eyes darted between Jonathan and Oceton. “Why?”

“I want to give you a hug. I realized I was wrong.” Jonathan smiled. It was warm and inviting, oozing sugar and honey.

“You know you’re wrong?” There was some brief hope in the mage’s eyes.

“Yes. I should have accepted you immediately. You’re worth it. Look at how beautiful you are,” Jonathan complimented. “Your eyes before, were spectacular. These new ones are nice too. Your ice . . . how can I describe it? It’s impossible. You’re close to my age and you’re so talented. I’d love for you to teach me magic. It would be an honor.”

Ciley gnawed on her lip. She seemed unsure and frustrated, but had unknowingly crept closer at the praise.

“Don’t worry,” Jonathan assured. “My friend won’t interrupt us. He can’t really do much of anything at the moment.” He laughed quietly. “What, is a hug not enough? Do you want a kiss?”

Ciley’s turned bright red. She stammered out something unintelligible. After a few seconds Ciley was still red faced, but she looked him over and pointed towards the hidden weapon, “Drop the dagger.”

Jonathan dropped the dagger into the snow. He was curious how Ciley knew exactly where he had stuck the dagger. It didn’t matter though, he still had the sword he had bought. The transmigrator was still smiling with a saccharine charm. He reached for Ciley’s face and cupped it in the palm of his hand.

Ciley didn’t move. She was too flustered.

“Close your eyes.” Jonathan looked away, avoiding eye contact. “It’s too awkward to do this while you’re looking at me.”

“Okay,” Ciley whispered and closed her eyes.

Jonathan used his free hand to draw the anti-magic longsword. He swung.

An ice shield formed around Ciley, but before an anti-magic blade that was useless.

Ciley fluttered open her eyes. She gasped loudly as the blade dug into her side, and opened her eyes. The mage grit her teeth at the betrayal.

Jonathan grabbed harshly onto Ciley’s cheek. He slid the sword out and drove it into the struggling mage’s stomach. It wasn’t even a necessary action to ensure her death on the cold mountain; it was revenge.


“I said no,” Jonathan simply stated. “I don’t hate people for what they are. I hate them for what they do.” He hated them for what they did to him and others. “I don’t hate magic, but I do hate you.” His faked, sugar sweet smile was brittle. The cold in his eyes could not be disguised anymore.

“You won’t ever forgive me . . . ” Ciley had given up on moving. She leaned her entire body into the weapon, as it let her rest her head on Jonathan’s chest. “Will you remember me?”

“No.” And if Jonathan did, it would never be fondly.

Ciley reached up a bloodied hand and placed her hand on Jonathan’s cheek; the manner was similar to that of someone marking their territory. Her expression was still full of undying possessiveness.

Jonathan let her fall backwards, onto the snow, without a goodbye. He would not be giving her a burial. The transmigrator had no respect for her as a human being. He drove a blade into her heart and he would never regret it.

Jonathan turned his back on the corpse, and rushed to his dying friend. His steps left red stains in the snow.



You guys having fun here? Any thoughts on Ciley?

And yet another fun animation is up on my youtube (TheSilverHunt3r). This one is from a musical. Link:

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About Ren

Writer of An Unwilling Prince. Longtime reader, fanfic writer, artist, and animator. Ko-fi: Tumblr:

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