I'M BACK! I'm so super sorry I took forever to update I KNOWW im like 7 chapters behind but I will make the effort to do back-to-back updates I swear! Anyway, I did go overseas on holiday last month and honestly, I thought I'd have all the free time in the world to update but I got a job interstate and I spent all month apartment hunting any free second I got.

And before I knew it I'm starting said job this week so rip me. But dw now that I'm back I shall be updating frequently (?) idk maybe gimme a few weeks to get a grip on this job - I promise I won't abandon you no matter what!

Anyway, here is a little treat chapter that I know all of you have been secretly dying for (and anyone who fantasises stories before sleeping like I do will know what I mean XD )

Song of the Chappie - Shameless by Camila Cabello

Trigger warning - Just swearing idk pls don't come for me oxox

It had been a week.

A whole 7 days since Stella last saw High Commander Silver.

And a week closer to the Sun's Solstice.

That evening she had stepped out to find the book she had dropped in all the commotion as it had slipped under an ornament table in the hallway but aside from that Stella had spent the last couple of days locking herself in her room whenever he was in the palace.

She couldn't stop thinking about him and his actions the past couple of days.

The way his glaring mahogany eyes were directed at the floor the moment she had slapped him had been replaying for days in her mind. Her handprint had scuffed over his delicate skin, materialising in an angry red colour within seconds and the more she thought about it, the more a weird feeling kept pitting in her stomach.

Stella stared at her ceiling; her sketchbook open on her bed with her graphite pencils over her last sketch as she lay beside it. The magic candles and lamps that adorned her prison room brightly lit the walls and ceiling as she stared up. Her eyes had traced the same gold-lined pattern on her prison room ceiling so many times that it was forever etched in her mind from the pure boredom.

She didn't know what to make of the foreign feeling – moreover, she didn't know how to define it. He deserved it, that much she was certain of, so why didn't it bring her the satisfaction she craved?

She had vowed to kill him multiple times when in the rebellion. It was all she could ever think about and the only drive she had to train, fight and survive for this long. But she never imagined what that would look like.

Would he feel the pain? Would he bleed?

Most importantly – would she be satisfied?

The sound of the Silver ship thrusters propelling over the landing strip caused her to sigh as she stared at the great white beast lift off the ground through her closed balcony window. It was late. Usually, he left in the early hours of the morning just befor the first sun rose, she wondered where he was off to this time – more fighting? Murdering? Pillaging? like the lap dog he is.

Thinking like that made her less unsettled about seeing him dead.

Getting up, Stella sat on the edge of her bed. The book from the library sat on her dresser, opened on the ripped page of relevance she needed to find. There was no telling who had taken that page – and most importantly why?

But she had a fair few suspicions about the first person to investigate. As much as she hated the idea of her subconscious replaying her memories with Brandon Silver, she did begin to notice a few things.

His eyes.

They've changed.

They weren't cruel and cold anymore, somewhere along the way, they had become more…guarded. Like a gate, keeping away the emotions that threatened to break through it. The first time she had noticed them change was that night at the Linphea Base Camp.

She didn't see it then, but when he turned around after narrowly pulling his sword back, the look in his gaze had changed but amid her own frantic screams and concern for her friend, Stella couldn't remember exactly what she saw.

However, when she accused him of killing Griselda that same night, she definitely caught the look in his eyes. They weren't shocked, more irritated. The look one would give when someone discovers something they weren't supposed to know.

There was a hint of something more – was it fear?

He knew something about why she was seeing these memories. Even as far as to know why she had forgotten them, but she was not in a position to bluntly ask him. At least not after the way he pressed against her while she was under the mind chain spell.

He was imitating how easy it was to take advantage of her while she was helpless like that. How easy it was to force her to become a puppet and how far Drakari's could and were willing to go to get what they wanted.

But stars, her face was going red just thinking about it. In anger - she kept telling herself at least.

Shaking her head, Stella decided to step out of her room. Every time she was alone with her thoughts, her mind would run back to replaying what it felt like to be so close in Brandon Silver's presence and it annoyed her how willingly her body responded to him.

Cavorting with the enemy, how shameful for a rebellion lieutenant.

Stella found herself walking down the hallway, heading to the one place she knew someone would be this late at night.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Tecna gazed up from her work, her green eyes shielded by the tinted goggles she had over her face.

"It's 9 pm, Tecna," She found herself replying with a soft chuckle.

The fairy of technology ripped off her goggles, glancing at the clock on her desk, "Oh shit! You're right, damn how did it get so late?"

"Maybe because you get so deep into your work you forget what time it is?" Timmy's voice sounded from behind the former princess as the doors to Tecna's lab hissed shut, "Good afternoon Your Highness,"

He smiled at her in such a warm and friendly way, that Stella almost forgot she was in the presence of two of the most feared Drakari elites.

"Here, sweetheart, I got you dinner," He murmured, walking towards his wife as she pushed her wheelie chair away from the machine she was working on. Tecna's eyes dazzled at the sight of the two bowls of warm rice and marinated beef her husband had placed on the table between the clutter of her work.

"Have you had dinner, your highness?" He asked, grabbing a spare chair to sit next to her. Stella nodded at his question, walking deeper into the room.

"Is the arena ready for use?" Whenever Brandon wasn't in the palace Stella would come here, exhaust herself on the training modules of the arena and go back to her room. It wasn't ideal but it was the closest thing she could get to distracting herself from everything that was going on in her life.

And to keep herself from grieving it all.

"Yup – High Commander hasn't used it in a while so nothing's broken…as of yet," Tecna murmured between bites of rice.

Her body stiffened ever so slightly at the mention of the man she desperately tried to avoid thinking about. Stella's eyes flickered over to Timmy, realising he was still in the palace despite the Silver ship taking off not too long ago.

"Where is…the high commander?" She asked hesitantly. Tecna and Timmy gazed at each other with an expression that Stella couldn't quite decipher – like a shared expression of understanding.

"Not sure, actually – he took the ship on his own today. Something about the high lord needing him at the fortress," Timmy replied almost robotically. But something felt off with the way he spoke as if he knew where Brandon had gone but didn't want to reveal the truth.

Stella nodded, not wanting to pry deeper. Probably a solo mission that Andreas needed his best lap dog on.

The married couple gazed at each other again, a mutual look of concern before Tecna spoke, breaking Stella's train of thought.

"How are the alterations to the implant, your highness?" She interjected quickly as if intending to change the subject. Stella shook her head, glancing down at the curse mark that wrapped her forearm with its tattoo-like etches.

"Fine. I don't feel any different," She replied with a shrug. A few days ago, Tecna had asked her to come down to the lab to add some work to the implant. In no place to question their antics, Stella complied. She was Tecna's favourite lab rat considering her high pain tolerance.

However, there wasn't any severe pain involved this time, more like a small change to the system but Stella didn't know what it entailed. She knew Tecna was working on new ways to get the sceptre to respond, but so far nothing has availed.

As much as she hated being used as an experiment, she also knew under the Drakari command, Tecna didn't have much of a choice. She and Timmy were just pawns in Andreas's game just as the former princess herself was.

"That's good, at least you didn't pass out like last time, and the commander carried you back right?" Timmy let out an awkward chuckle, gazing back at his wife, who gave him a stern look. She stepped on his foot in warning, and he let out a soft wheeze before dropping his head in shame.

"…Yeah," Stella murmured looking away to fight the mental image of that whole ordeal. Suns why did he even do that? He could've just left her on the chair like any prisoner to bleed out and die. It's what he's been wanting this whole time anyway!

Tecna gazed back at her, covering up for her husband's unrestrained mouth, "Anyways your highness, arena is all yours," she gestured to the door beside the lab that led into her high-powered training room.

Stella nodded, deciding not to question it further as she walked towards her only escape these last couple of days. Her escape from her reality and, most important her escape from him.

By the time Stella had wrapped up her session, Tecna and Timmy had gone to bed, leaving her alone to walk back through the empty hallway of the Sun Palace. She could feel the sweat on her back as she panted softly to even out her breathing.

Once she had reached her prison room door, she pressed the gold-coated handle down, attempting to walk inside when her subconscious reminded her of something she had yet to do.

The missing pages.

Stella gazed back over her shoulder at the grand doors behind her. Her father's study. Considering the way he behaved, she had an inkling that Brandon Silver knew more than he was leading on about the sceptre and these memories.

Since he had left the palace, it gave her an open window to find what she was looking for. If he had indeed ripped out the page, there were only two places he would most likely keep it. His bedroom or the study.

The idea of waltzing into whichever room he had deemed his bedroom in the palace felt a little too out of her comfort zone. But the study was right here, it was unlikely he go to the study at this hour, even if he had come back earlier than she expected.

Now was her chance.

Shutting her prison room door behind her, she stood across the hall in front of the white double doors that lay opposite her own. Stella would often spend time in her father's study while he worked. When she was around the age of 6, before her princess duties began, she would often sit on his rug with her prettiest frock, reading fairytales or colouring in her most recent work of art.

Gazing bck furtively over her shoulders at each end of the hall, Stella pushed the door open and stood at the threshold. Her gaze adjusted to the dim, empty room that used to be full of light and warmth. Now, it was nothing but a reminder of her fallen kingdom and the bloodshed she had witnessed that night on her coronation.

Though she had entered this room before after becoming a prisoner here, once to even save her enemy's life, she never really took a good look at the room her father spent most of his day in.

It was just as she remembered it. Lined with books with her father's desk in the centre.

Brandon had left the fireplace lit, its small flames dancing and crackling between the shelves of books her father collected as it cast a faint glow over the room. Stella stepped inside, her eyes gazing around to take in the solemn yet nostalgic feeling it held.

The last time she was in here, it was stained red, from the desk to the rug, it was drenched in Brandon's blood. However, he seemed to have cleaned up well; one would not think the high commander of the Drakari army almost lost his life here. Her fingertips brushed the side of the desk, before gazing furtively at the door she had closed behind her.

No one was coming.

She reached for the closest desk drawer, yanking it open and gazing at the documents piled in there. Most of them bore the Drakari seal, a chilling black emblem that was a mutilated version of the once glorious Silver family coat of arms. Stella gazed down at her forearm, partly thankful the curse mark was the Silver emblem and not the abomination that was the Drakari one that Brandon's uniform had.

She dug through the papers, but in the back of her mind, she knew he wouldn't keep something like the stolen pages of a book in a pile of documents like this. Shutting the drawer gently, she straightened up.

Despite being in her father's office many times, she wasn't aware of any hidden compartments the former king would've had here. Her eyes scanned the walls of books, trying to make out anything unusual from what she remembered of this room.

Everything was well kept. From the alphabetically ordered shelves to the dust-free mantle on the fireplace still holding all of her father's ornaments.

She walked closer to the fireplace, its warmth coating her legs as she stood in front of the mantle. When she was a child, she wasn't tall enough to see what her father kept on it, but now that she was older – she could see it all.

A picture of her mother stood proud on the ledge, surrounded by small trinkets. She must've been her age in the picture, her platinum blond hair braided over her shoulder as she sat on the white stone seat by the gazebo. A small smile over her soft pink lips as she stared back at the camera with her ocean blue eyes.

How her heart ached to see her mother one more time; there were no pictures of her from this age that Stella could remember, and to think it was still here. Her fingers brushed gently over the glass in front of her mother's face, a great wave of sadness overwhelming her that she averted her attention to the rest of the items on the mantle.

Beside the picture was a small filmy piece of folded paper that Stella immediately recognised.

Happy birthday, daddy!

Was etched in hot pink crayon on the front side of the card with a picture of a stick figure child and what appeared to be a stick figure version of King Radius, holding her hand.

The mantle was lined with them. Birthday cards that young princess Stella had drawn for her father every year. From the age of 3 to the age of 16, every birthday card she had made for him was lined neatly and preserved perfectly on the mantle.

Her father had kept all of her cards.

But most importantly – Brandon hadn't destroyed them.

She didn't know how she felt about that. He had kept her beloved garden maintained and well looked after; he had kept the Sun Palace in its former glory, and now he had kept everything the former king held dear right where it always belonged.

She shook her head, trying to push back the unreasonable thoughts that prodded in the back of her mind. Why would he do this? He gained nothing from keeping any of this.

The heartless monster, High Commander Brandon Silver, would have no use for any of these – she imagined he would be satisfied by burning all of this.

Her eyes flickered back to the picture of her mother seated in the middle of the cards. Stella couldn't help but pick up the frame, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she stared forlornly at it.

Whatever his reasoning was – she felt an ounce of gratefulness that he hadn't destroyed the last remaining memories of her mother.

Maybe he wasn't as bad as she thought. No! What was she thinking? This man murdered her father in cold blood and was the reason many of her people were dead, enslaved or oppressed. There was no good left in Brandon Silver. He was the reason innocent people like Noah had lost his mother. He was at fault for all of it. He should be killed just as he has killed others.

But what reason did he have to keep all of this?

Shaking her head, Stella reached out to put the frame back but her eyes caught something on the mantle that she hadn't noticed before. The wood had an unusual dent prodding over its smooth surface.

Pushing the picture aside, she brushed her fingers over the anomaly, a small rectangular piece of the wood was raised a little higher than the rest. It was almost unnoticeable and with the frame over it, it was invisible. Curious, the former princess pressed her fingers into the space and the wood fell in before lifting up higher. Her eyebrows furrowed as she raised the small conspicuous wooden hatch door in the mantle.

She couldn't see clearly inside of it, but it was deep enough to reach into. Without thinking twice, she put her hand into it and immediately felt the presence of a cold piece of leather. She didn't hesitate to pull it out and her eyes widened when she realised what the item in her grip was.

A dagger.

Red leather handle.

She recognised it instantly. It was the blade that almost took her life 9 years ago.

Why the hell was it in a secret compartment under her mother's picture?!

There must be more in there. Keeping the blade tight in her grip, she attempted to reach her other hand into the compartment again before the faint sound of footsteps echoing down the hall caught her attention.

Shit! Was he back already?!

She knew just by the weight and pacing of his steps that Brandon Silver was back.

She didn't even have time to think before quickly shutting the compartment hatch and placing her mother's picture back on it. Her mind had calculated a million and one ways this could play out but there was no way she could leave the room, he would find out immediately.

Her father's study had no place to hide either and knowing how sharp Brandon was, he would suspect she was in possession of something in no time.

She had two options.

Get caught or take her chances and kill him.

Why not? It had been her plan all along. Any chance she got, she told herself she would kill him and she would never get another chance to be in possession of a dagger Brandon might not be aware of.

Especially if it's the very weapon he had saved her life from?

Poetic is it not?

She stood in front of his desk, racing through all the possible ways to drive this blade through his vital points. There was no point charging at him, Brandon was too powerful of a fighter for her to overwhelm him head-on.

She's going to have to do it when he least expects it.

The door handle pushed down, and Brandon's sturdy silhouette stood at the threshold. She felt her skin prickle with the weight of his presence right in front of her after days of not seeing him.

He had traded his commander uniform for a black turtle neck shirt underneath a black tailored blazer and matching black pants. She could smell the scent of his woody cologne despite the distance, stronger than usual, and his hair was wet and tousled like he had just showered.

"Princess," His voice was deep, tired but curious. It was too dark to see his expression as he stepped into the room, "Why are you here?"

She felt her stomach knot at the way he called her that nickname again. Princess. A mockery.

"I was bored," She shot back cooly, continuing to stand in front of his desk to conceal the blade she had in her hand, and he let out a chuckle before shaking his head.

"Did my study suffice your boredom, princess?" He smirked, walking closer as the dim light of the fireplace illuminated his features. He was on guard, she could see it with the way his eyes ran from her legs up to her face – a seasoned commander like that would never underestimate any kind of attack from his potential enemies.

"It definitely led to some questions," She admitted, her eyes flickering to the mantlepiece.

She hadn't seen him since she had slapped him. She felt herself stifle the scoff when she noticed his face didn't sport that red handprint anymore.

"Oh?" He was a few feet clear of her, like a predator stalking its prey. If she could just get him a little closer, bring his guard down, "What questions?"

"My father's mantlepiece," She replied in an even tone, "Why did you not destroy anything to do with the former king?"

She saw it bright as day, the guard went up. The same damn gate that concealed his real emotions was replaced with cynical coldness, "Trophies," He spoke coldly and the singular word knocked the wind out of her.

"What?" She heard him as clear as day, but out of all of the possible ways he could've answered that, he replied with something that killed any hope of there being any good left in him.

"When a hunter kills a beast, they display the beast's head on their wall." He stepped closer, making her feel nauseated the more he kept talking, "It's a trophy,"

Her blood ran hot. The hate was so obvious in her eyes that she knew he could see it crystal clear. Hiding her emotions was never something Stella was good at. Whether it was her love for young Brandon Silver or the hate she held for the current High Commander Silver. She was as open as a book.

She could see the satisfaction in his eyes at the way she reacted. His lips tugged into a smirk of contentment as he stood a foot from her. She knew he expected her to attack him.

Any chance of striking him with the blade was expected and prepared for, he would block her, dodge and restrain her immediately. Despite standing perfectly still in front of her, his body was skillfully ready for anything she might try to do in violence.

"What's wrong, princess?" He purred, almost taunting her to strike as he leaned down closer to her face, "Not the answer you were hoping for?"

She was right. There was nothing good left in him – he was never good to begin with. But she was not leaving this room without harming him in one way or another. Killing him now was a stretch but she needed to hurt him.

Her body was itching for it.

To see him bleed.

She needed to distract him long enough for her to stab him. But what kind of distraction would suffice to catch the seasoned High Commander off guard? Considering how close he was standing to her, there was only one plausible course of action. Her heart pounded. She couldn't overpower him, but there was one way to catch him off guard - one that would require her to put aside her dignity.

Fuck it.

Before she could second-guess herself, Stella closed the distance and pressed her lips against his.

AHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Have fun with this one ;)

Lots of love,

Star