The Other Prince

By Aria Zilfier

They spoke of the princess in the woods – how she was cursed, how she was enchanted, how she broke free of the spells.
They spoke of the prince who was with her. The dashing prince who had waited for a hundred years. The prince who saved her, who broke her spell, whom she lived happily after with.
They are them. I am I.
I am the other Prince. And this is my story.

Meet Phil, the perfect prince, the Ogre Queen's favourite son. Meet Will, the unfortunate twin who inherited all the Ogre traits of Ogre. Phil strives to find their runaway human father, and Will strives to keep his head on by searching for Phil. But suddenly, a princess is involved...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aria Zilfier
• Release date: Jul 30, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466045620

Aria Zilfier

My inspiration draw mostly from my strange dreams though...they provide a lot of basis for the scenarios in my stories.Sometimes I let my characters take a life of their own, and the storyline just goes poof!I've been writing since forever, however, English not being my native language, my skills may not be as good.

Book preview

The Other Prince

by

Aria Zilfier

*****

PUBLISHED BY

Aria Zilfier at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Aria Zilfier

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

*****

Prologue

They spoke of the princess in the woods – how she was cursed, how she was enchanted, how she broke free of the spells.

They spoke of the prince who was with her. The dashing prince who had waited for a hundred years. The prince who saved her, who broke her spell, whom she lived happily after with.

They are them. I am I.

I am the other Prince. And this is my story.

*****

Chapter 1

Mother

I hastened through the draughty corridors. Mother had somehow remembered my presence in the castle and summoned me. Such a rare occasion... something was surely wrong. She could (and probably preferred to) forget my presence for weeks at a time, and later, if she happened to glance at me sitting at the end of the servants’ table during our dinner, she would pretend not to notice me.

I paused when I reached the throne room, checking myself nervously as I waited for my presence to be announced.

‘Where is he?’ Mother’s voice boomed.

The guards in front of me wrenched the doors open, staggering backwards as they pitted their weights against the heavy iron.

‘Prince Will is here, Your Majesty,’ announced the crier.

‘I already knew that!’ Mother snapped. ‘I can see his sorry dumpy self hunched outside the corridor from here!’

I walked into the room slowly.

The throne room was decorated in black for that day.

Ebony drapes hung from the windows, pulled aside and fastened with equally dark ribbons. Posies of dried flowers were placed in vases near various pillars. Through the bleak room, a red carpet cut sharply across the chipped stone-tiled room, running from the doorway where I was standing, to the throne on a raised dais at the other end.

Mother slouched in the gold and velvet ‘chair’ - her excess self drooped from all corners of the seat where it couldn’t hold her. Her legs were crossed, pulling her gown upwards, and from a certain angle before the dais, I knew whoever she summoned would be given a distasteful view of her fat stocking-ed thighs topped by gray knickers.

Oh yes, I’ve seen them, all over the place, when she was feeding...She had always been a staunch believer of keeping clothes clean…

‘Stop lingering at the doorway! Do you intend for me to shout at you from this end of the room?’ shouted Mother.

I scuttled forward until I was at the bottom of the steps of the dais, and bowed as best as I could. But my back gave way and, like always, I sprawled onto the floor.

As I picked myself up, Mother muttered something incoherent under her breath, then cleared her throat as she looked down at me.

‘Will dear, do you know where Phil has been disappearing to, these past few days? I missed him at dinner last night,’ Mother said, sickly sweet to me. Her mouth twisted into a smile...Which, set in her wide pale face succeeded to make her even more ferocious than before.

In a few moments, she would erupt into the great fiery temper she always had. I breathed in deeply and waited.

Mother drummed her fingers on the arm of the throne impatiently. Something sounding like a growl seemed to come from her.

‘I don’t know where he has been, Your Majesty,’ I replied, hesitating slightly.

‘And why not? With all your...contacts?’ Mother was still holding that venomous attempt of a smile on her face. I was amazed that she could accomplish such a feat. Mother had never smiled in the time I’ve grew up. She was probably born looking threatening.

Mother was, of course, of ogre-ish lineage. Father wouldn’t have married her if she wasn’t very rich. She was the queen of her own kingdom - a very old kingdom. Mother had outlived many husbands, I shudder to think how many half-siblings I have actually.

‘Well, then, you may return to your skulking,’ Mother dismissed me. ‘And if I catch wind that you know something of your brother that you withheld from me, I shall most positively,’ she clasped her hands over her stomach at this point of time, ‘consider inviting you to my next feed, and I dare say you won’t be able to refuse.’ Point made, Mother waved me away.

*****

Chapter 2

Phil

I found Phil later at one of the flower gardens, gazing at leaves floating in the fountain basin.

From far, he was the epitome of a perfect golden prince. His pale hair hung slightly below his ears and fluffed around his nape. His clear blue eyes, coupled with a strong nose overall presented a very open, elegant sort of face. A face that looked kingly. Well, princely at the very least...

Phil had dipped his finger into the basin and was absent-mindedly stirring the water. The wind ruffled his hair, even the wind makes a fuss of him no doubt, I thought drily.

As I approached him, I wondered which part of him he inherited from Mother.

I suppose he inherited all from Father, the bold, dashing but extremely poor prince I’ve always heard of. My source was the whispers amongst the servants, and that consisted mostly of how handsome Phil was growing into - apparently just like Father.

Whispers, because Mother refused to tolerate his name after he took off with some of Mother’s most precious and magical items, leaving her and his two sons; me and Phil, behind. Anyone who dared to even pronounce a syllable of his name would be graciously be invited to her next feeding.

Phil looked up as I lurched forward.

‘O Brother!’ Phil beamed. I said nothing and sat beside him. ‘Nice day, isn’t it?’

I looked up to the sky. Whatever patch of blue that Phil saw, it was definitely not in the sky. Grey clouds hung heavily and in the distance, if I kept still and not breathe, I could hear a bit of rumble.

I glanced at Phil; he was still smiling broadly.

‘Um...yes...very nice...’ I replied uncertainly. I remembered mother’s words. I should have said ‘Where have you been?’, but I didn’t want to. I’d rather not know.

Phil suddenly made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle. I turned to look at him, and saw that he was drawing figures in the water. I leaned forward to take a closer look. The reflection that was me did not look pretty. I cringed.

Phil and I are twins.

But standing side by side together, there are no other unlikeliest faces ever. Our looks are almost polar opposites. I suspect I inherited all of the maternal side’s wrong bones (as if there were any right ones). Though, while Phil is like a sun, I am nowhere close to a moon. Probably an exploding nova somewhere in the dark abyss of space. Probably.

I can say though, I am opposite of perfect. Zero, nil, nothing. But I digress.

‘Say, Will...’ Phil started.

‘No,’ I cut in rudely. He was going to say something that would incriminate me in whatever he was giggling over. I could feel it.

‘What? I haven’t even...’ Phil’s blue eyes opened wide, as if shocked and hurt.

‘No, no, no,’ I put my hands over my ears and got up. I limped away. Or, tried to. Phil held the back of my shirt.

‘Don’t be that way!’ Phil pleaded.

‘No! No! No!’

‘Aw...it’s not like you will understand it anyway!’ Phil let go of my shirt. I stumbled over and fell heavily onto the grass.

‘Oh my God,’ Phil whispered as he stared at me.

‘What?’ I shouted.

‘Don’t...don’t look down...’ Phil whispered still.

You know when you are told not to do something, and your immediate response is to do it anyway?

I did it then. I couldn’t help but looked down just then. Something red was blossoming in the green tights over my left knee. Well, was my green tights. The material was shorn and my pale skin peeked from the whole.

‘Oh great,’ I said, and then realised my knee was cut. Blood was oozing out. The hue caught my eye, and I couldn’t look away. The redness was calling out to me, my blood, no, just blood was calling to me. My stomach felt odd and my head, light.

‘Will! You stupid idiot! I told you not to look!’ Phil’s voice sounded faint and unreal.

And then my head reeled, and the grass loomed before me. And then my cheek hurt. When I turned back, I saw Phil, pale and shaken, his fingers finishing a knot on a piece of his cloth wrapped tightly around my injured knee.

‘Did you just...’ I stuttered.

‘Yes, I punched you! You were going berserk!’ Phil was angry, his face contorted with the emotion. And then, suddenly the wrinkles smoothed out and popped up at other places. ‘It’s all my fault...I shouldn’t have done that...you wouldn’t have fallen and hurt yourself then...’ He said softly, his voice full of remorse. ‘Sorry Will...my fault...really it is...’

He took my hand and gripped it tightly. ‘Am I forgiven?’ He smiled sadly.

Have I mentioned that Phil is always such that...people felt bad when he was the one at fault?

Charisma, that’s it. He always had a lot of it, and I am not excluded from the infinite list of people who are influenced by it.

I succumbed.

‘I’m going back,’ I got up slowly and limped towards castle. My knee throbbed, and I nearly fell over again, when I felt a relief of sorts off my feet. Phil had his arm around me.

‘Let’s go,’ Phil smiled.

Without waiting for my reply, he helped me back to the castle, to the small nest in the tower that was my room.

*****

Chapter 3

Dinner

Dinner was always a quiet solemn affair, punctuated only by Mother’s grunts and gleeful laughter.

Because you’ll never know if your throat will be the next to be slit so that your blood will fill the Queen’s cup.

Oh honour? What honour? Nobody wants to die as an ogre’s meal, but there’s not exactly a choice...

Phil was sitting on Mother’s right side at the Royal Dais when I slipped into the hall. He smiled briefly at me before resuming pushing his food around, as did the rest of the summoned nobles at court.

The nobles. I could see their eyeballs flickering towards my direction, even as their heads were kept bowed. The stares that filled with resentment, that could not reach the ogre queen or her golden prince could only settle for the next best, me: The ugly offspring that was half-ogre, half-Human - not even fitting to be part of the royal family.

As I slipped into the chair at the side that was furthest away from the dais, I could almost feel them trembling with hatred and repulsion.

How pitiful.

That evening, as always, I had joined the dinner table nearly towards the end of the meal. If I could, I would minimise all contacts with the nobles. Dinner, was, however, compulsory, and I took it to mean that showing up ten minutes before it finished would count.

When I was a child, I had once skipped it, to avoid the jeers of the nobles’ children. It ended up with me beaten half-dead by the kingdom’s discipline master and left in the dungeons