3. First Blood on Royal Hands

At Princess Elena's Chambers - 3:00 AM

Elena couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Harold's face. She saw the blood. She felt the resistance of flesh as her dagger pushed through.

She had killed a man. A bad man, yes, but still a man. And it made her feel like a monster.

"I can't do this ninety-nine more times," she whispered to the darkness. "I can't."

But what choice did she have? Refuse and die? Watch Marcus become king and torture their people? At least if she became queen, she could end this horrible tradition.

Elena got out of bed and walked to her balcony. The kingdom spread out before her, peaceful in the moonlight. Somewhere out there, people were hiding, praying they wouldn't be chosen. Children were crying, afraid of the royal family that was supposed to protect them.

"I'm so sorry," Elena said to the sleeping kingdom. "I'm so, so sorry."

...---...

At the Village of Thornbrook - 6:00 AM (Day - 2)

Marcus arrived at his second village of the week. This one was larger, maybe two hundred people. More targets to choose from.

He had learned something yesterday. Quick kills were easier. If he didn't think about it, didn't talk to them or learn their names, it felt like cutting down wheat. Just a task to complete.

"Line up! Everyone line up!" his guards shouted.

The villagers lined up in the main square, trembling. Marcus walked down the line slowly, studying each face.

An old woman caught his attention. She had kind eyes and reminded him of his grandmother, who died when he was seven. Grandmother used to tell him stories and bake him sweets.

Marcus hesitated. His hand tightened on his sword hilt.

"Please, Your Highness," the old woman said softly. "I have grandchildren. Let me live to see them grow."

For a moment, Marcus felt something. A tiny crack in the wall he'd built around his heart. He saw his grandmother's face superimposed over this woman's.

Then he remembered. Weakness. He couldn't afford weakness.

Marcus swung his sword. The old woman fell. Her grandchildren's screams filled the air.

"Six," Marcus said, his voice hollow.

He killed four more before leaving the village. Each one got easier. The crack in his heart sealed up, replaced by ice.

...---...

At the Royal Dungeons - 9:00 AM

Elena returned to the dungeons. She had decided if she must kill, she would only kill criminals. Murderers. People who had caused pain to others.

The dungeon master showed her another cell. "This is Robert. He raped and killed a young girl last year. Sentenced to hang."

Elena looked at Robert. Unlike Harold, this man looked remorseful. He was crying.

"I'm sorry," Robert sobbed. "I was drunk. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry."

Elena's hand tightened on her dagger. "Sorry doesn't bring her back, does it?"

"No, Your Highness. Nothing can. I deserve to die. Please, just make it quick."

Elena stabbed him quickly through the heart. Robert died with tears still on his face.

"Two," Elena whispered.

She killed one more that day - a traitor who had tried to poison the king last year. But unlike Marcus, Elena could only manage three total kills in two days. Her heart wasn't built for this.

...---...

At the Royal Dining Hall - 7:00 PM

The royal family gathered for dinner. King Aldric sat at the head of the table, Queen Marissa on his right, Marcus on his left, and Elena at the far end.

"Marcus, I hear you've made ten kills already. Excellent progress!" the king said proudly.

Marcus smiled. "Thank you, Father. I should reach thirty by the end of the week."

The king turned to Elena. "And you, daughter? How many?"

"Three," Elena said quietly, pushing food around her plate.

"THREE?" the king roared. "In two days? At this rate, you'll never reach one hundred! You need to kill at least two per day, every day!"

"I'm killing criminals, Father. Prisoners who were sentenced to death anyway. It counts toward the hundred."

"It's weak!" the king slammed his fist on the table. "Marcus is killing real people, showing real strength! You're taking the coward's way!"

Elena's mother, Queen Marissa, spoke for the first time. "Aldric, perhaps Elena's way is wiser. She's not traumatizing innocent families-"

"SILENCE!" the king shouted. "I will not have my wife and daughter question our traditions! Elena, starting tomorrow, you will kill real villagers like your brother. This is not a request. It's a command!"

Elena looked at her mother, who gave her a sad, helpless look. Then she looked at Marcus, who was smiling slightly.

"Yes, Father," Elena whispered, knowing she had no choice.

...---...

At Elena's Chambers - 10:00 PM

Mary helped Elena prepare for bed, but the princess couldn't stop crying.

"I have to start killing innocent people tomorrow, Mary. My father commanded it. How can I do this? How can I become a monster like Marcus?"

Mary held Elena's hand. "You're not a monster, Princess. Your heart breaks with every kill. That's what makes you different from the prince."

"But I'm still killing them! Whether my heart breaks or not doesn't matter to the people who die!"

"Then make a promise to yourself," Mary said firmly. "Promise that if you survive this, if you become queen, you'll end this tradition forever. That way, every death serves a purpose. They die so that future generations won't have to."

Elena looked at Mary with red, swollen eyes. "You really think I can change things?"

"I think you're the only one who can."

Elena nodded slowly. "Alright. I promise. If I become queen, this tradition dies with me."

It was a promise she would keep, though the path to fulfilling it would be far darker than she could ever imagine.

...---...

At the Village of Millbrook - 11:00 PM

In the village Marcus had visited that morning, a young man named Thomas Jr. sat beside his father's grave. He was the son of the first man Marcus had killed.

"I'll remember you, Father," Thomas Jr. whispered. "And someday, somehow, I'll make the prince pay for what he did."

He wasn't the only one making such promises. All across the kingdom, seeds of hatred were being planted. Marcus was creating enemies with every kill.

But for now, the prince didn't care. He was too focused on his goal, too blinded by his ambition.

The hunting had only just begun.

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