And this is Dorian's POV. Not really his regrets, but the way he sees his life. Chaol's POV coming soon. His life is kinda harder. I don't really know anything about him...

I wish I was born a normal boy. It would have made many things much easier. If only I was like Chaol. A minor lord, perhaps. Free to do what I wanted without so many eyes on me all the time. But if everyone got what they asked for, the world wouldn't be a world, would it? It would be more like paradise, and Erilea is hardly close to any type of utopia. I can't even imagine what life must be like for people outside the city. I've never seen it. I wish I could. I wish I could just throw my life to the wind and see where it took me. But... I can't. Responsibility plays a large part of being, well, me.

Sometimes I ask Celaena what life was like for her before she got sent to Endovier, but she never answers. Perhaps it's better that way. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. I do wonder though. Was it as horrible for her growing up as it was for me? We had so much in common. Celaena and I had both grew up under unforgiving fathers. While I know she is an assassin I cannot reconcile her with the King of Assassins. Unlike Arobynn Hamel, Celaena has a heart. A conscience. She bestows mercy and kindness as often as she ends the life of innocents. Her only flaw is her inconsistency. Celaena's moods vary wildly and while she can kill men as easily as smacking flies she also can be extremely arrogant and haughty. If I didn't know better, I would imagine she acted a little like me when I was younger. I didn't know what to expect when I went to fetch her from the Salt Mines. I had thought she would be half-dead at least, but what I didn't expect to find was a beautiful, angry woman with the most extraordinary eyes I've even seen. Cocky, bold, vain, egotistical. She was all of these things but they just made her look and sound more human. Of all the people in the world, she was most like me. But she's not the whole story, so let's start at the beginning.

Being the Crown Prince of the most hated kingdom in the world is not exactly an easy job. I suppose others would think it was. But, it's not. I have never met another royal who didn't want to be royalty except me. It looks like a great life from the outside, doesn't it. I have all my needs taken care of, an unending line of gorgeous female admirers, and a kingdoms worth of riches. Everything anyone would want. Others work their whole lives for this kind of existence, but not me. It was given all to me at birth. My gift for being the first son of the most influential king in the world. I can't help but think myself undeserving of all this. What have I done for this kingdom other than being born? Others would die to have my position but I got it for free. Well, not free. There's always a price for everything, that's what I learned after nineteen years of this frivolous life.

From the age of five, I have had lessons. They weren't entirely useless although they were quite boring at times. Hollin often fell asleep during his lessons. I pitied his tutors. They obviously couldn't wake him. His teachers probably would have gotten a beating for interfering with his beauty sleep. But I wish for lessons now. Anything would be better than sitting in at court. It didn't agree with me. I hated the courtiers intentional ignorance of the world beyond the castle walls. It was as if they believe, by not acknowledging the unpleasant things of this world, the unfavorable things would ignore them as well. They don't care, and that's what bothers me most of all. How can we spend so much money on trivial things when there were beggars and unfortunates all over the city? And that's only Rifthold. What about the other cities, towns and villages in the empire? Mother always sends me the most elaborate outfits to wear to court. How many starving families would the outfit have fed? I felt like a doll. A life-sized doll that people liked to toy with. If it was only the ladies of the court, I definitely wouldn't mind. But when others try to get close to me just to take advantage of my rank... that I can't stand. At all. If it wasn't for Chaol, I probably would have been all alone.

Chaol and I were the only noble born children our age in the castle. There were others of course, but they were of low rank. Offspring and illegitimate children of servants, guards, and soldiers. Father would have never let me associate with them. They are lowborn. Disgusting vermin, he would have said. I met Chaol one sunny day in late summer when he was playing in the garden... With his father's sword. Of course, Lord Westfall didn't know his son had his beloved blade. If he did, Chaol's father never would have let him close to it in the first place. Chaol was ten. He had started his fencing lessons already. I was only seven. Not nearly old enough for an actually sword, but I was fascinated. Fascinated by the way he wield it, the weapon a mere extension of his arm. Fascinated by the way he moved, smoothly, fluidly without a hitch. Fascinated by the smallest maneuver that made him equally graceful and deadly, as if the feints and parries were part of an elaborate dance I could not hear the music to. I watched him fight an imaginary opponent as I hid behind a large rose bush watching him. I did that every day for a week. Naturally, he found me out.

"What are you doing in there? How long have you been there?!" he scowled at me, sheathing the sword awkwardly. The blade was way too big for him.

I was not at all cowed by his hostile questioning. In fact, I was actually quite amused. "Don't you know who I am? You could get in a lot of trouble for talking to me like this." Chaol looked at me sceptically.

"Sure," he drawled. I grinned cheekily at him.

"My name's Dorian. It's great to finally met you. Hiding in bushes is not exactly comfortable, you know." His brows rose.

"Dorian Havilliard? The Crown Prince?"

"At your service," I bowed. Chaol didn't quite look like he believed me, but he played along.

"Your Highness," he said smirking a bit, bowing. "Why have you been watching your lowly servant fumble with his swordplay? I am sure you have much more important things to do."

I shrugged. "Watching you is better than attending my lessons, which is what I am trying very hard to avoid." His bronze eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Avoiding lessons, are you? I didn't expect that from you, Your Highness."

I glared at him. "Lessons are boring, no matter what I'm learning," I paused, "You haven't told me your name yet." Chaol shrugged infuriatingly. I narrowed my eyes.

"I demand-"

"Your Highness!" A guard ran up to me panting. I gave him a moment to catch his breath, a moment I used to smirk at Chaol, before I said, "Yes?"

"Her Majesty, Queen Georgina wishes to see Your Highness," the guard said, bowing low. I hissed out a breath and sighed heavily. Fun was over. I flicked a hand dismissing him.

"I'll just be a moment. Go back to your post." He bowed again and backed away. I turned to Chaol. "So... Do you believe me now?" Chaol smiled, fully this time.

"I never said I didn't believe you."

"I could tell by your tone," I countered. His smile turned into a full blown grin.

"Could you really," he said, cocking his head.

I changed the subject. "Will you tell me your name?" He groaned.

"This question again?" I crossed my arms stubbornly, refusing to move. "You should go to court. Her Majesty is waiting for you." My shoulders slumped, and I probably looked miserable because Chaol took pity on me. "I'll meet you here again tomorrow. And then I'll tell you my name." I brightened a bit. I had nobody my age in the castle. Perhaps he could change that. And change it, he did.

I begged father to have Chaol join me in my lessons. Having a companion was preferable to being alone. I never realized how quiet and lonely I was before Chaol came into my life, and I'll be forever grateful for what he has done for me and with me over the years. Whether he kept me from strangling Hollin after another extremely frustrating encounter or openly rebelling against father, antagonizing him once more, Chaol has never once acted like one of those court ninnies who would do anything to climb up the social ladder. Like Kaltain.

Kaltain was the worse of them. Hounding my every step. A persistent, scheming shadow. As if I didn't know she had an eye on the crown. In fact, perhaps that was all she wanted. Mother liked her, of course. Lady Kaltain was rich, influential, and absolutely stunning, but that paled in comparison to her lack of feeling for others. She hid her true face with a court trained mask. One that hid her viper swift disdain and criticism of others. She cuts people down with her the razor-sharp words as easily as Celaena slits the throats of her victims and my father's targets. But for all Chaol's training and lessons as the Captain of guards apprentice, he never prepared for the fact that he might be forced to kill someone someday, until Cain.

Before Chaol became the Captain of the Guard's pupil he and I spent much of our days together as I said previously. It was just the two of us, and sometimes we would get into so much trouble our tutors despaired we would ever learn anything. But, oh, I loved those days. I was young and carefree. Father was away from court most of the time, one less pair of eyes to watch me.

Chaol and his family moved back to their city, Anielle, in his thirteenth year. I was absolutely miserable. The only light of my days were the daily letters we sent each other. That continued for a few weeks, then, the letters began to taper off until they became nonexistent. I still wrote to him, but he never answered. It was two months later before Chaol wrote again. He begged me to let him come back to Rifthold. He had abdicated his title as Lord Westfall to his younger brother ,Terrin. I immediately knew something was wrong, but the problem was I didn't know what. I asked, no commanded, the Captain of the Guard to take Chaol as his apprentice. He didn't need much convincing. The Captain was getting old and was in need of a successor. It helped that Chaol had excellent fencing skills and the fact that he came from nobility. But when Chaol came back... he was not the same. Something had happened to him in the two months he didn't write. I never pried, but I think it had something to do with his mother. After all, he and Lady Westfall had been exceedingly close. Why would Chaol come back from his beloved city to be a lowly Captain of the Guard? Then again, I have never questioned him, and after his training was finished he grew into his role as Captain. He held the loyalty and respect of the soldiers and guards under his command.

For me, it was different. Everyone was expected to treat me with special care, all because I was the crown prince. None of them knew me, the true me. Who am I other than a spoiled prince? A boy who has gotten his way too many times to count. There was no one like me in all of Erilea. The last Crown Prince. Granted, there were other royals. My father, mother, and brother obviously. Then there was the king and queen of Melisande. They traded their crowns for their lives. I don't know whether I pitied them for it or wanted to scream at them for being such cowards. Not that I was one to say anything. I am such a hypocrite. I'm just as cowardly as they, maybe even more so. On the outside, I am charming, confident and arrogant. On the inside though, things were much different. A grey shivering mass of fear and shame. For the frivolity and foolishness of his court. For the brutality and inhumanity of the armies and the man who ruled over it all. My father.

The king of Adarlan is the conqueror of nearly all of Erilea, a force of death. I've never seen the battlegrounds, the bloodbaths in which thousands upon thousands die to protect their home country. I couldn't even face Nehemia after the Eyllwe rebel massacre. How can I be the Crown Prince of a empire where my subjects have so little feeling for lives other than their own? Compassion and empathy do not dwell here, not in the castle, not in Rifthold. Death surrounds the city, the borders. From the bitter cold of the northern country, Terrasen, to my dark, oppressive home, to the southern blazing heat of Eyllwe. My father doesn't care. He only wants more. More land, more countries under his command, more continents that bore the Adarlan flag.

Father doesn't care who dies in his campaign for power. Soldiers, rebels, even whole families. I wonder if Father ever feels guilt for the people he kills, the deaths that were commanded by him. A sweep of his sword, another command, more deaths, more kills. What do all those deaths say about me? That I'm just as heartless and cruel as my father? I don't want to be like that. I don't! I am such a coward not to stand up to him. To not openly disagree with his methods. But I have no choice. I am not enough of a man to face to consequences of my actions. Father would never listen to me. Everything has been laid out for me since birth. Title, path, marriage. I have no choices, no freedom. So I lock myself in my tower room. The only place where I ever have peace. There is a reason I chose a room so far away from court. A room so high, away from mother's demands, father's disappointment and the expectant faces of the court.

I met Rosamund when I was seventeen. I was so carefree then. I went through the court ladies as if they were jackets, trying one after the other. They all bored me after a while. Except Rosamund. She was... surprising to say in the least. I have never met another woman who liked to hunt, well, save for Celaena. But she hunted...different things. Rosamund was beautiful. In fact, that was what caught my attention in the first place. She had a flowing waterfall of shiny, ebony hair and the greenest eyes I had ever seen. In her eyes were the lush forest, the brightest of emeralds. And just like Celaena, she didn't care for my attention. She was one of the rare court ladies who disliked my fondness for her outright. But I liked challenges, and Rosamund provided the biggest challenge of all. So I began to court her. Our courtship was quite unusual. Instead of spending time with her in the castle, I would invite her on hunts. It became a favored game of ours. Who can bring down the most animals in a given period of time. Rosamund provided a distraction from court and mother never objected to my infatuation. Father didn't care at all.

I fell for her, hard. I liked her stubbornness, her refusal to grovel to a higher power. I didn't realize she didn't return my feelings. I was blind. So completely blind. She married other man. A crude and tasteless man who hated me. I wonder what I did wrong. What I did to get her to shun me so. I got over it eventually, but it still hurt. And then Celaena did the same thing. She broke my heart the same way.

I traveled to find Celaena Sardothien as my Champion for the absurd contest Father had wanted to hold. Honestly, I am not sure what I expected to find. From the few reports Chaol had managed to acquire, the ones about the assassin were always sparse. When I arrived in Endovier, I saw the other prisoners of war. Starved and blank-eyed, beaten and submissive. I thought Celaena would be the same. How wrong I was. The moment I laid my eyes on her, I knew she was something, someone special. She stood tall, bored and appraising. As if she couldn't believe she was wrenched out of the mines for such a useless meeting. Celaena was nothing like the other slaves. Where the slaves were broken, she was whole, but jagged. Where they lacked fire, she burned with a cold, bitter anger. I was amused with her antics in the throne room. Even Chaol liked her attitude, even though he wouldn't admit it. I also didn't expect that she would be so absolutely stunning. She was even younger that I. The best assassin in the world. Adarlan's assassin, a queen of the Underworld.

She was brought back to the castle. And she won the contest. In the bloodiest, most painful way possible. I fell for her just as I did Rosamund and just like Rosamund, she gave up on me. But I don't care. Even if she doesn't care for me that way, nothing is stopping me from still loving her. Father doesn't like her obviously and mother would die if I told her, but Celaena is different. She's special. I don't know how or why she is like the way she is, but I will fight, I will fight for her. I will not abandon her like the way I did the day of the duel. And if she ever gets hurt again...no force in the Wyrd will ever keep me from tearing the world apart for her.

And so it ends.