Beautiful Hell (Draft 1)

For almost one hundred years, a brutal and bloody struggle for dominance between the kingdom of Ra'Ziel and the plains of Torath has torn the world asunder, raining death and destruction upon the earth. But this war is coming to an end. With only a few descendants of both royal lines living, will there finally be peace? Alexandra Ra'Ziel wants nothing more than to end the feud that took her older brothers from her, but Tristan Torath has different plans. He wants - he needs - retribution for the wrongs he has suffered. And so their story begins. Because anyone can find vengeance, but only a rare few achieve true justice.

Ok yeah, so here's the thing. I'm rewriting this story, so anybody who wants to read the new chapters (as I edit and revise them) can find them on my page. The Movella is titled Beautiful Hell (Re-imagined). And yeah, it's way way way better than this one, but also way more graphic too.

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16. Tristan Torath IV

            “Why would you let the boy go? You bastard! You know what he’s going to do now? That boy is going to come back with an army. We’re all dead, because you wanted to impress some girl!”

            “Father, she is important. And I didn’t just let the boy go, I made sure that the story of Alexandra’s kidnapping will leak. I made sure that the Ra’Ziel army will come to find her. I made sure that they will see her, obeying my every whim.” Tris stood still, his hands knotted behind his back as he defended himself. They both knew he was right, both knew that letting the boy go was necessary.

            “And what happens when you fail? What will you do if the girl refuses you, Tristan?” Tris smiled to himself. The fact that Anzel was actually using his name meant he wasn’t nearly as angry as he pretended.

            “She won’t. I just gave her her cousin’s life. I already have a few other things I am going to do, and she will do the rest. No one wants to be miserable. She will convince herself that she is happy, that she loves me, and then I get what I want.”

            Anzel questioned Tris about everything. He asked about specific plans, and he interrupted every few minutes. Finally, he seemed satisfied.

            “Well, Tristan, if this works, then congratulations. However, if you fail me, you will pay for it. You only have the time it takes for that boy to return with an army. The girl had better be yours by then, of so help me, you will rue the day your whore of a mother spawned you.”

            Tris took a deep breath of cold air outside the tent. Interviews with his father  were always painful and long. Then he strode off, the opposite way from his tent. He had something to arrange. Tomorrow would be crucial, important, difficult.

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