Fairydale: A Dark Gothic Fantasy Romance

‘You’re so pretty,’ I murmur lovingly as I gently wipe the leaf of the pale pink flower.

It still does not have a name, though it’s been close to a season since I’ve created it through a mixture of two other flowers.

It’s been a hard endeavor, but as it has grown increasingly larger, I’m close to declaring it a success. Even better, it’s just in time for my birthday tomorrow, when my mother will finally visit me again. I’ll be able to show it to her and hopefully earn her praise.

Hopefully.

A sigh escapes me at the thought.

My mother is not one to give out praises that easily, just as she is not usually impressed with anything.

She knows of my love for flowers and she’d equipped my home with a large conservatory to grow any flower or plant I’d like. But in many ways, that is only to excuse her absence and the fact that most often than not she forgets she has a daughter.

I continue to wipe every little leaf carefully before I step back, admiring my years’ worth of work.

Alas, it’s not like I have many options.

I’ve been trapped within these walls my entire life. I have absolutely no idea how life on the outside world is, except that it is dangerous.

The first time I asked my mother what was outside my front door, or whether there was something else beyond the ocean, she’d told me there was—a bad, bad world that would only hurt and exploit me.

At that time, I wasn’t very knowledgeable, nor did I understand much of what she was telling me, so I repeated the question a few years after.

‘Why can I not go out, mother? Saima does so all the time,’ I’d asked, confused why Saima, my maid and cook at the time, was able to step out into the world while it remained completely forbidden to me.

It was at that point that, on one of her rare visits, my mother had gifted me a set of history books about Arkgor, telling me to study them and pose the question to her again when I was done.

Hungry for anything that would tell me the secrets of the outside world, I’d devoured the books, reading them again and again until I memorized everything by heart.

The stories all revolved around the Vissirian Empire and how it had gained supremacy over the entire continent, subjugating smaller, less powerful kingdoms, while declaring war on the stronger ones.

It was then that I understood what my mother had meant by the fact that the outside world was bad. It was filled with war, famine and disease. It was a world in which the Vissirian Empire waged war continuously, killing everyone who stood in its way.

And since the empire had first appeared on the map, fifteen thousand years ago, there had been not one day without war, with casualties that kept on piling.

So on my mother’s next visit, I’d posed the question to her once more.

‘Here,’ she’d said, pointing to the map of Arkgor. ‘Hundreds of years ago, this used to be the Kingdom of Milena.’

The area she’d showed me was right at the border of the Vissirian Empire, and it was the latest kingdom it had incorporated after a lengthy war. It was also the area we found ourselves in.

‘With the Empire growing in size, its population became more diverse, too.’

She’d explained that there were many types of peoples, with different abilities and appearances—some humanoid, some non-humanoid. To me, who’d only ever seen a handful of people in my entire life, everything had seemed so interesting.

‘Yet everyone on Arkgor has something in common. Despite the fact that some may be stronger, faster, or more powerful than others, everyone has one fatal weakness.’

The books had detailed all about the varied species on Arkgor, most of which boasted a slew of abilities, with some of them able to live tens of thousands of years. Despite that, though, there was one thing that was able to kill any life form on Arkgor—rhodium, otherwise known as Vissirian silver.

To the weaker, even a scratch could prove life-threatening, for the metal had some properties that did not allow the body to heal itself, the wound ultimately festering and leading to death. To the strongest, though they were able to withstand shallow cuts of rhodium better, they were still threatened by it—one strike to the heart and that person would be dead.

The metal was widespread in the northern part of Arkgor, the region which coincided with the first settlement of the Vissirians.

According to legends, the first Vissirians had seen the devastating effects of the silver and had weaponized it. Because their region was so abundant in it, they managed to turn it into an advantage by equipping every soldier with it and building a never before seen army.

That turned to be the prime advantage of the Vissirians.

Though they could be felled by the silver as well, they had the upper hand in battle against foreign soldiers who were not properly equipped with such deadly weapons.

While all the other parts of the world scrambled to find their own supplies of rhodium, the Vissirian Empire grew exponentially, investing everything in its military and arming it with the perfect weapons to subjugate the rest of the world.

It was only when a coalition of the Western Kingdoms had managed to find a deposit of rhodium deep in their mountains, that everything had changed. And though the states remained at war, there has been a long standstill.

With the rhodium scales evened out, everything else became a matter of individual prowess rather than any hidden advantage.

Unfortunately, the effects were far-reaching.

Because the world has been at war for so long, only a few cities are livable, with clean water and food. The rest are all wastelands, ravaged by the military and scavengers.

But that hasn’t been the only effect.

Previously long-lived species have seen a decrease in their lifespans as a direct result from the famine and disease that followed the war.

Though initially everyone’s weakness had been rhodium, the conflict had caused some species to develop other vulnerabilities—one of which was childlessness: the decreased ability to carry gestations to term or birth viable offspring.

The books had also detailed never-before seen plagues that attacked some species, and there was the implication that they’d been created by the Vissirians as an alternative to rhodium.

‘The Vissirian Empire is always looking for a way to regain its dominance. Since rhodium became widespread in the entirety of Arkgor, they’ve lost their bargaining chip. And that’s where you come in.’

‘Me?’

‘You have a never before seen ability of withstanding any rhodium injury, or any type of plague,’ she’d said just as she’d removed a small rhodium blade, cutting my skin with it before cutting hers, too.

While mine had healed immediately, hers had not.

‘If my assessment is correct, your ability would be priceless for the Vissirians, and they would use it in the most horrific ways. Not to mention what they would do to you…’

My mother had detailed the atrocious ways in which the Vissirian Empire would use my ability to lay siege to other nations and effectively conquer the entire Arkgor. With my healing powers, nothing would stop them.

‘They are absolutely despicable, Sela. The Emperor is a vile man whose god is power and only mistress is greed, and his General is the worst scourge to ever be born in this world.’

The Shadow General, so called for his ability to move faster than shadows, is purported to be the most dangerous man alive. A rare warrior breed, no one knows exactly what his ancestry is, or why he is as powerful as he is—allegedly more than the Emperor himself.

He’d been the one to lead the Empire’s armies into Milena, conquering the Kingdom and executing its ruling monarchs before the entire population while giving them a choice—submit and live, or rebel and die.

The same night, the General alone had slaughtered more than a thousand people who’d dared stand up against Vissiria.

‘Though our Kingdom is long gone, we haven’t forgotten what the Vissirians did to us. We’ll never forget,’ she’d added vehemently, telling me that they would ultimately regain what was originally theirs, but that was imperative on me being hidden.

‘You’ll be our hope when the time is right. Until then, you need to stay safe and the Vissirians must never find out about your power.’

‘I understand,’ I’d told her,

Since then, I stopped asking her about the outside world and I have become used to my own little haven. After all, I am safe here. I have food and drink, and there is no one who could experiment on me.

When I’m done with one row of flowers, I move to the other, cleaning them thoroughly.

There aren’t many things to do here besides tending to my garden, and spending moments on end gazing out at the ocean from my balcony.

I have a small library that’s ever expanding with the books Meli brings me weekly—after my mother has approved them, of course.

It was only by chance that I found out that Meli has to run everything by her first, and I cannot understand why. I already know most there is to know about Arkgor and what goes on in the outside world. As I’d told her, I have no intention of going outside if it means putting myself in danger. Yet she still continues to monitor the contents of my books.

So far, I’ve noticed that she’s restricted me access to anything that might have romantic content—I’d received none of the ballads I’d asked for. Yet I’d still managed to read summaries of them in other works.

My guess is that my mother believes that such fanciful notions might make me sad, since I am unlikely to ever experience them.

She is right to an extent, since who would not want to live an epic love story?

Yet I also know the reality of what is implied in the history books.

The outside world is so horrible, there is absolutely no place for romance.

When everything is rotten to the core; when the only relationship model is of master and vassal, what is there to emulate?

Marriages are conducted for business purposes only, either to conjoin two strong lines for the powers their future offspring would have, or for political reasons to make alliances.

Despite the fact that my mother had told me she thinks I would be useful for the Milena cause in the future, I hope she did not mean that I would have to marry someone.

The mere thought of it makes my skin crawl.

I’d rather stay in my tiny home forever than let that happen.

‘Miss, Miss,’ Meli’s voice reaches my ears.

Turning, I see her dash into my conservatory.

‘Your mother is here!’

‘Now?’ I blink in surprise. ‘But tomorrow is my birthday, not today,’ I frown.

Had I gotten the day wrong? I’ll be the first one to admit that I’m not the best at tracking time. When you’re losing yourself in the same thing on a daily basis, the days tend to blur into one another. I don’t discount that I might be mistaken about the date.

I’m about to be eighteen, and if I’ve become so bad about keeping track of time so young, then I don’t know what will happen when I’ll be a couple hundred years old.

Will I become insane?

Despite being used to my lot in life and trying to make the best of my situation, I’m more than aware that it’s not ideal. Though most days I enjoy my time with my plants, there are those when I feel like throwing myself off my balcony and into the ocean—I probably would have done that if not for the rocky cliffs that would destroy me on the way down.

‘She wants to see you. In the office,’ Meli relates.

Nodding, I follow her out of the garden and into the house.

Aside from the ground floor that houses the kitchen and a study, there is only one room upstairs where I sleep.

‘Mother?’ I incline my head in greeting.

Immediately, I take in her fancy gown, green with specks of gold, the bodice being sown onto geiki bones—a rare and expensive creature. This type of couture is only available to the rich—or at least that’s what I’d read in books.

I bite my lip as I cannot help but compare the difference in our clothes.

Looking down, I stare for a moment at what used to be a dark blue gown but has now faded around the hem and in some areas I’d dropped fertilizer on. I don’t own too many clothes since my mother has always said I’d never need them, anyway. But the few that I have are all in dire condition and need replacing.

I should probably ask her for some new clothes as a birthday present.

But there’s also something else I want more than anything. And though I might have to endure another year of tattered gowns, I’d rather have that.

‘Come, Sela. I must speak with you at once.’

I nod, worried at her tone.

Reaching for the chair across from her, I take a seat and assume my stance—back straight, hands politely on my thighs and gaze forward.

I might be isolated from society, but I am not a savage—or I don’t believe I am.

Truth to be told, I’d learned everything from those damned books in an effort to impress my mother and maybe…maybe have her visit me more often.

‘Has something happened, mother?’ I ask in an even voice.

My mother strains a smile.

We share the same features, black hair and dark blue eyes set against a pale complexion. We could potentially pass for twins if not for two differences. My lips are plumper than hers and she has a birthmark in the shape of a clover on her upper left cheek—Lady Luck as I’d heard Meli call her.

‘There’s been a disturbance in the Empire. I’m going to station more guards around the house. If you hear something, or if anyone comes inside, you know the protocol. You hide in the East chamber.’

‘What disturbance?’

She purses her lips.

‘The emperor was assassinated. There’s a rebel group that’s been sighted all over the capital and around the borders of the empire. It’s better to be vigilant.’

‘But isn’t that a good thing if he’s dead? It’s what you’ve been waiting for all along!’ I burst out in happiness for her.

Ever since I was young she’d told me how much she hated the Emperor and the Empire. Yet as I look at her, my smile slowly falls.

She doesn’t look happy. If anything, she looks weary, dark circles forming under her eyes, her features slightly gaunt where they were full before.

‘It would have been a joyous event, indeed. But with the rebels at large, it only makes this situation more dangerous.’

‘But… What about the Milena resistance? Maybe it could ally itself with the rebels and…’

‘Since when do you know what’s best in politics, Sela?’ she gives me a grave look. ‘A new emperor has already been crowned and the entire Empire will be searched for traitors, after which they will all be executed as an offering to Vessar,’ she says, mentioning the ancient Vissirian god—coincidentally, a god of war.

‘I don’t understand…’

‘Of course you don’t. These are topics for grown-ups. In any event, I want you to be careful if you hear anything out of the ordinary. I will not be able to come again for quite some time until matters are stabilized in the capital.’

I frown.

Why would she be reliant on the matters in the capital? She doesn’t even live there.

I don’t understand anything.

She should be more happy that the Emperor was killed.

‘How is the new Emperor?’

Her lip twitches in disgust and something akin to guilt flashes across her face.

‘He will bring the Empire into a new era,’ she vaguely answers before standing up and heading to the door.

‘It’s my birthday,’ I call out, surprised she hasn’t mentioned it at all.

‘That’s right,’ she says after a moment of deliberation, as if it had completely escaped her mind. ‘Happy Birthday.’

‘And my present?’ I smile sweetly.

She opens her mouth to speak before closing it.

‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t find it.’

‘But I gave you the clipping last year,’ I say dejectedly, the implication clear.

She’d had time to find it.

Every year on my birthday, she gives me a gift while asking me what I’d like for the following year.

Prepared with my most wanted wish, I’d given her a page from one of my books that detailed the existence of a purple plant in the Northern part of the Empire. It might be quite far away, but during the year she could have had someone get it, could she not?

I’d been wanting it from the moment I’d spotted it in the book, knowing it would complement my other flowers perfectly. But more than anything, it would help me attempt a new hybrid.

‘Maybe next year,’ she tells me in a dead voice as she heads to the door. ‘Remember what I told you. If you hear anything, you hide.’

I nod, straining a smile as I wave her goodbye.

And as the door closes, I realize I won’t get any birthday celebration.

This was it.

I stare for a moment at the door, for one moment truly wishing I could wrench it open and run out into the world—live like I’d never lived before. Yet just as the thought comes, a wave of fear goes down my back.

Besides my books, what do I know about the outside world? What do I know of conversing with people or avoiding danger?

Truth to be told, even if I had the chance to leave, I would be too scared to do so.

‘I left you the food in the kitchen, Miss. There’s plenty for the entire week since your mother has tightened security,’ Meli’s words startle me from my thoughts.

‘You’re leaving, too?’ I turn to her, doing my best to hide the hurt from my voice.

She nods.

‘I’ve washed all your clothes and cleaned your bedroom. I’ll see you in a week, Miss.’

And just like that she’s out of the door too, and once more I’m left feeling lonelier than ever before.

Trudging my way back to my garden, I try to think of ways to amuse myself so this awful feeling can go away.

‘We’re alone again,’ I murmur as I squat next to my roses. ‘What do you think I should do for the rest of the afternoon?’

I nod as if the flower spoke to me.

‘Yes, I could re-read the book on Lyrian botany.’

A sudden noise at the end of the garden startles me and I jump to my feet.

‘Who’s there?’ I demand, remembering what my mother had told me.

But…if the noise is coming from the end of the garden, and the trap door to the underground room is at the end of the garden, then what should I do?

Is this all in my head, I wonder?

Maybe my mother’s tale had scared me a little more than I admitted to myself.

Just to convince myself that I’m being silly, I walk towards the end of the path, all the while scanning my surroundings.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary… Maybe it is all in my mind.

When I don’t spot anyone at the end of the garden, I sigh to myself just as my pulse seemingly settles down.

Yet it’s too soon. In just one second I feel a cold metal against my throat.

‘Don’t move,’ the deepest voice I’ve ever heard whispers in my ear, the warm air from his mouth sending shivers down my spine.

Terror engulfs me at once.

‘W-who are you?’ I ask, barely keeping my voice from trembling.

‘Why was Lady Luck visiting you?’ he demands in a thick voice, the blade digging into my skin.

The sun hits the metal, its shine revealing it’s rhodium.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I murmur.

All at once, he pulls me closer, fitting my body to his hard, big one as he slices the blade across my neck. His other hand comes to rest across my waist, keeping me still against him.

‘You have one more try, lady. Why was Lady Luck visiting you?’

Seeing as the blade continues to advance into my skin, I debate whether I should tell him or not. Yet the most important thing is that he cannot know I can heal from rhodium—that it does not harm me as it does everyone else.

Maybe cooperating for now is the only way to keep him from finding out.

‘She’s my mother.’

‘Lies,’ he grits. ‘Lady Luck has no children.’

‘I’m telling the truth,’ I breathe out, trying to push down the panic that’s threatening to overtake me.

This won’t end well. I just know it.

Tears appear at the corners of my eyes as my entire body starts shaking.

‘Who is your father then?’ he asks again.

‘I don’t know. She  never told me. Please… I’m telling the truth.’

His teeth clank together and I know he doesn’t approve of my answer.

By chance, I look down and see blood soaking his sleeve, drops falling to the ground.

‘You’re injured,’ I quickly add. ‘I can help you if you let me go.’

‘Prove to me that Lady Luck is your mother,’ he says, ignoring my previous words.

‘I don’t know how,’ I whisper. ‘She comes to visit me a few times every year but never stays longer than a few hours. You could look at me? We look alike,’ I offer, wincing at my own words.

Suddenly, he releases me.

Before he can turn me around to look at me, I bring my sleeve to my neck, wiping the blood away. The wound is already healed, so I can only hope his precision with a sword isn’t too great that he’ll know something is wrong…

I barely put my hand down when I find myself face to face with him.

Slowly, I look up, my eyes widening in even more terror as I look upon him.

He’s…absolutely gigantic.

He must be twice my size. His arm alone looks like it could squeeze the life out of me and I doubt I would heal from that.

As I examine him, I come to a stop when I note his eyes—the lightest shade of blue I’ve ever seen. His hair is white, tied together to his back in a warrior-type of fashion I’d seen drawn in my books. His body is fully garbed in black leather, the combination with his light features making him look awe-striking indeed.

He would be breathtakingly beautiful, if not for the scowl that mars his features and the annoyed twitch in his jaw.

His gaze sweeps over me, studying me from head to toe in a manner that makes me want to run and hide. But seeing what I’m dealing with, I know he would not hesitate to do something to me if I defied him in any way.

I keep my spine straight for his perusal despite the fear that’s settled in my stomach. Yet I can’t find it in me to let him see how much he affects me.

‘You say you’re her daughter,’ he repeats.

His thumb touches my chin as he tips my head up to regard him.

‘Look at me properly, female. Not like a scared mouse,’ his voice booms, making every cell in my body vibrate with…something.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment to push against a sudden wave of nausea.

Breathing harshly through my nose, I feel his fingers on my skin as he grasps my chin tightly.

‘Now,’ he commands, and something in his tone makes me obey.

My eyes snap open, my gaze meeting his.

His eyes flare with interest as he takes a step closer to me, bringing his face to mine and…sniffing me?

He inhales deeply, moving his nose around my hair and neck before stopping right in front of my face. His nose is almost touching mine as he watches me intently.

‘What is your name, female?’ he asks in a honeyed voice, entirely different than the one before.

‘Please don’t hurt me,’ I whisper, afraid of what his interest in me might be.

I’d read enough about the violence happening in the world to know what could happen to a helpless woman. Yet I’d never thought it would visit me here, in my very own home.

‘Your name,’ he repeats.

‘S-Sela,’ I answer, swallowing hard.

‘Sela,’ he nods to himself. ‘And you are Lady Luck’s daughter. I can see the similarity,’ he muses, more to himself. ‘Yet I can also see the differences.’

I nod slowly.

‘M-my mother has a clover on her right cheek. And her lips are thinner,’ I recite the differences like a fool, not realizing my last statement brought his attention to my mouth.

His own twitch in response, the corners curling into a sardonic smile.

‘Wrong,’ he clicks his tongue against his teeth. ‘There’s one more difference.’

‘What?’ I blink in surprise.

‘Your eyes. They are warm where hers are cold,’ he states matter-of-factly.

The words stun me, but more than anything, I’m still reeling from the fact that there is a stranger threatening me in my own home—one who seems to be well acquainted with my mother.

All at once, a spark of outrage erupts within me as I imagine what type of relationship my mother would entertain with this…brute.

Surely they aren’t…

‘I would never lay a finger on that viper of your mother,’ he snarls, the mere allusion making him angry.

Just as I open my mouth to reply, I close it as I realize I hadn’t spoken that accusation out loud. The only way he could have known it is if he…read my mind.

‘You cur!’ I push him off. ‘You could have read my mind all along to see I am telling the truth. Why torment me so?’

A smile plays at his lips as he regards me, almost as if one would look upon a jester at court.

‘You’re an interesting little thing,’ he drawls.

‘And you’re an unmannered brute,’ I point my finger at him, seemingly having lost all my fear from before.

But so be it. If he’s going to have his wicked way with me it’s going to happen eventually and I will still be powerless to stop it.

Isn’t that the truth?

That I know absolutely nothing about defending myself—against anything.

‘You said you could treat injuries,’ he changes the subject as he folds his sleeve to reveal a very nasty gash on his forearm.

I shake my head, my expression mutinous.

‘I don’t treat vile people such as yourself. Please see yourself out,’ I demand as I point to the exit.

He doesn’t move. He simply regards me with the same lazy smirk as before, his eyes skimming outrageously over my body.

‘And stop looking at me like that,’ I mumble.

‘Like what?’ His brows go up in question.

‘You…You know what,’ I huff.

‘Ah, lovely Sela, you’re a fiery lass, are you not?’

‘W-what?’

My eyes widen as my mind hones in on one word.

Lovely.

He called me lovely.

Instinctively my hand goes to my face as I feel heat climb up my cheeks.

No one’s ever called me lovely before.

Yet just as I realize the direction of my thoughts I shake myself. I can’t fall prey to him just because he’s spouting flowery words to me.

‘I’ve decided to let you tend to my wounds,’ he says as he plants himself on the bench at the end of the garden, his hands unfastening his vest as he lays it on the ground.

‘You’ve decided? I repeat incredulously.

He continues with his chemise, slowly unbuttoning his blood-soaked shirt.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask in horror as I see the direction he’s taking.

‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ he raises a brow as he gives me a lopsided smile. ‘I’m getting ready for you.’

‘I said I won’t tend to you.’

‘No, you said you would tend to me if I let you go. I’m accepting your bargain.’

I narrow my eyes at him.

From his previous murderous mood, this one is too…laid-back and jovial. Almost as if he is having fun at my expense.

I do not know who he is, but I know he is not welcome in my garden. And I tell him so.

‘You already let me go. Now please leave,’ I say with all the confidence I can muster, folding my arms over my chest.

He tilts his head to the side, shaking it slowly and releasing a tsk sound.

Before I know it, he’s behind me again, his big—entirely too big—hands splayed over my waist.

‘Are we back to the negotiating table, lass?’ he whispers in my hair.

‘Let me go,’ I breathe out.

My pulse accelerates in what I think is extreme fear. But it makes no sense the way my body quickly yields to his in a way I’ve never experienced before—nor read about.

It’s almost as if, despite knowing he represents danger, my body’s decided the opposite.

Quite alarming, if I’m honest.

Especially as a sigh escapes my lips and I lean into him.

I. Lean. Into. Him.

What type of madness is this?

‘Let me go, you brute,’ I repeat, attempting to push him off me.

But he doesn’t budge—after all, how could someone my size take on someone his size?

‘Treat my wounds and I will let you go. You have my promise, lovely Sela,’ he murmurs softly. ‘I can see you have various healing plants in here. You’re a healer, are you not?’

I gulp down as I fear discovery—if he hasn’t already looked into my mind and found out everything.

‘Fine,’ I reply.

Just like before, he disappears from behind me and appears once more on the bench.

I’ve read about the diverse species on Arkgor and I’ve gone through their abilities, yet I can’t seem to place his.

He looks…humanoid. Like me. At the same time, though, there’s something that makes him so much more. Something I couldn’t even begin to imagine.

He leisurely unbuttons the rest of his shirt before discarding it on the floor.

It’s at that moment that I freeze in shock.

Not because his physique is just as impressive as his size, or as mesmerizing as the beauty of his features.

But because there’s a sharp arrow protruding from his chest, right below his heart.

A rhodium arrowhead.

‘You’re not dead,’ I whisper.

How?

‘Decidedly not,’ he chuckles. ‘Though my guess is that not for long,’ his eyes then flash a dangerous red, sending a shiver down my body—yet I’m not sure if it’s still one of fear.

I give him a brisk nod as I come closer, my eyes moving all over his chest.

‘I’ll need to clean it and add some zveka,’ I murmur as I take note of all the injuries on his body. There are a few deep lacerations that are oozing blood, but they are almost drowned out by the myriad of scars marring his skin.

Just how many times has he been hurt?

‘Are you going to do something or stare at me all day?’ he drawls.

My cheeks heat up as my eyes meet his before I avert my gaze.

Grabbing a towel from the basket I always have on hand, I take it to the small well on the far right of the garden. I wet it thoroughly, and I pour some water into a small container. Bringing them to his side, I place them on the bench next to him before I go to my zveka row. A plant from the far East, it’s reputed to be one of the few plants that can combat the anti-healing properties of the rhodium, acting as a cleanser and flushing everything out of the wound.

Because of its use, it’s also exceedingly rare, having been used to near-extinction.

Bringing everything back to his side, I take a mortar and pestle and I make it into a paste.

I can feel his gaze burning into me as he studies every move I make, his shrewd eyes taking everything in—doubtlessly also reading my mind to make sure I don’t do anything to harm him.

There’s something savage about him, an intensity that makes me react with both fear and curiosity.

Dropping the mortar to the ground, I bring the wet towel to his injuries, cleansing them of blood and other debris before applying a thick layer of paste.

He never makes a sound. Not when I cleaned his wounds, nor when I push the paste into his open flesh. He’s just…silent.

Somehow, that’s even more frightening.

When I’m done with his more minor wounds, I focus on the arrow.

Biting my lip, I debate how to go about it. It looks to be so close to his heart that I’m afraid that by tipping it even a little to the right it could kill him.

Maybe I should…

As I bring my hand to grasp the arrow, he suddenly stops me.

Looking up, I find his grave gaze on me.

‘Try to kill me and I’ll blow your brains out with one thought, lass,’ he tells me in a gravelly voice, his glare as icy as the light color of his eyes.

I nod slowly. That seems quite far-fetched, but why do I believe it?

It must be his eyes.

His eerily light eyes.

They absolutely frighten me.

Gripping the end of the arrow, I try to remove it, but it’s lodged right between his ribs and I don’t have the necessary strength for it.

‘Can you do it?’ I whisper. ‘If you pull it at this angle,’ I pause as I take his big hand and wrap it around the metal, angling it upwards, ‘it shouldn’t touch your heart.’

He grunts, his eyes still on me.

And just like that, he continues to watch me as he wrenches the arrow out of his chest successfully.

Blood gushes out of his wound, flowing freely down his chest.

Immediately, I grab the towel, holding it on top of it.

‘Are you not in…pain?’ I ask tentatively as I see no change in his expression—not even a hint of pain.

‘Pain and I are intimately acquainted,’ he grunts, though he doesn’t expand on that.

Infuriating male.

When the bleeding slows down, I repeat the process, stuffing the paste inside his circular wound until not one drop of blood can come out.

‘Done,’ I murmur as I get to my feet.

Yet before I can take a step back, I find myself firmly on his lap as he cradles my hip, his hand close—too close—to my bottom.

My eyes widen at his scandalous behavior.

‘You brute,’ I whimper as I push at his shoulders. ‘You’ll open your wounds again.’

‘Shh,’ he says and places a finger to my lips, all the while staring at me as if he can’t quite decipher me despite obviously having the ability to read my mind.

Unless…

He can’t do it all the time.

Once more, he leans into me, inhaling deeply.

‘You’re not mated,’ he states.

‘H-how could you know?’

The corner of his lip tips up.

‘Any male of sound mind would have put his mark on you if you were,’ he says, his hand cupping my cheek and tipping my face up towards him. ‘You smell fresh, Sela. Like an unplucked daisy.’

‘You should p-put me down,’ I whisper when I see how close he is to me.

‘In a moment,’ he murmurs as he leans forward, brushing his cheek against mine.

The heat from his skin transfers to mine, making me still as unnatural thoughts erupt in my mind—things I should have no business imagining.

Yet his pull is too strong—so much so, in fact, that I can’t help but lean forward, inhaling his scent too and marveling at the sweet musk that emanates from his skin.

The combination of blood and sweat should repulse me, but if anything, it makes my loins heat up as something bubbles inside of me.

I release a soft sigh as I bury my nose in his hair, breathing him in deeply as he does the same with me. I don’t know what type of madness this is, what kind of wicked mind sorcery, but my body has a will of its own as it can only yield to his.

His face is nestled between my shoulder and my neck as he releases an unnatural growl just as his lips skim the surface of my skin, his teeth scraping lightly over my flesh.

The slight pain is enough to make me regain my composure as I jump out of his arms.

‘You need to leave,’ I tell him pointedly.

His eyes flash a deep red at me, his nostrils flaring as animalistic energy rolls off him. Especially as he gets to his feet and takes a step towards me.

Yet before he can reach for me, his ears perk up, his features twisting into a scowl.

‘I’ll be back, Sela.’

I blink and he is gone, as is any evidence he’d been here.

Not a few moments later, the door to the house burst open as my mother, together with some soldiers, come into my garden.

‘Where is he?’ My mother demands as she wildly looks around the place.

‘What do you mean?’ I frown.

‘The rebel must be here! Search the place!’

The soldiers quickly run all around my house, searching every nook.

‘What is this, mother?’ I demand sharply.

‘That blood. Whose is it?’ she hisses accusingly.

‘It’s mine,’ I boldly lie. ‘I cut myself while tending to the garden. It’s nothing new,’ I roll my eyes.

She won’t be able to demand to see my injuries just as she won’t want to let any soldier get too close to me in case they start asking questions.

Giving me a pointed look, she steps back. But not before she leaves me with a warning.

‘Be very careful if you ever lie to me, Sela. Or you will not like the consequences.’

Her words startle me, as does the malicious expression on her face—something I’d never seen before.

‘I won’t,’ I tell her—a lie in itself.

Huffing at me, she turns and commands everyone to follow her out.

Soon, I’m all alone and wondering how I got myself into this. Because no matter how much I look at it, something deep inside of me tells me my life as I know it is about to change.

And it all starts with a frightening warrior with a beautiful face—the one who becomes a recurrent theme in my dreams.

The house is eerily quiet at night, and as I twist and turn in my bed, I realize sleep is unlikely to come—especially after I’d woken up from the most scandalous dream I’ve ever had.

It’s that brute.

It’s all because of him and his terrifying eyes.

But you liked them.

I huff to myself as I get out of bed, wrapping a shawl around my shoulders and stepping out onto the balcony.

The light breeze of the night brushes against my skin. I release a deep sigh as I tip my head up, inhaling the clean air.

The turbulent waters crash against the rocky cliffs, the sound comforting to my ears as I lean over the railing, looking over the ever familiar background.

Who was he?

Not for the first time since he’d left, I can’t help but wonder about his identity.

According to my mother, he is a rebel.

Remembering how he’d looked, I can definitely see it in him.

He’d been so big and strong, his body frighteningly massive. Yet he hadn’t hurt me. Aside from the initial prick of his blade, he hadn’t done anything to me.

Maybe I’m looking too much into this. After all, it had been a first for me to come into contact with such a male specimen. One that not only scared me but also…

A blush goes up my cheeks as I realize the direction of my thoughts.

But that’s exactly why he’d intruded in my dreams. Because despite the initial fear, I’d also felt…want. Or at least that’s what I think it had been.

His touch alone had made my skin erupt in goosebumps, my pulse shooting through the roof.

When he’d looked into my eyes, I’d felt every little part of my body heat up, a strange tingling developing in my lower belly.

Retrospectively, maybe everything I’d felt had been because he is the first male I’ve ever seen up close—too close.

All my life, I’ve only been around my mother, her friends, and the various servants she’d hired. Is it any wonder that I’d been so struck by his impressive presence?

Yet somehow I doubt any other male would compare with him. At least in the books I’d read, they’d never appeared as large, or as…hypnotizing.

I slap my cheeks twice as I chastise myself. No matter how I think of him, I end up at the same conclusion—he intrigued me. Maybe a touch too much.

Giving up on sleep even though there are a couple of hours left until dawn, I head downstairs to the kitchen to check what Meli left for me.

I’m pleased to find an assortment of cooked meals as well as cold cuts which she’d thoroughly bathed in salt to hold for the entire week.

Despite providing for me as best as she can, my mother would never allow anyone to live with me. The more time someone spent with me, the more likely it would be for them to discover my abilities. And as she’d repeatedly told me, that was simply out of the question.

There had been an incident when I was younger with one of my maids. She’d seen me heal after cutting myself on some glass. The next day, she’d been gone.

I don’t know what happened to her, but I hope my mother didn’t do anything unseemly to her.

Taking advantage that some of the dishes are still fresh, I pour myself a bowl of stew.

As soon as I taste it, though, I wince, realizing it’s missing seasoning.

Not one to despair, I take a pair of scissors and head to my garden since I have an entire section dedicated to spices and edible plants.

Yet the moment I step into the moonlit area, I’m struck by something at the end of the garden—something sitting on the bench that brutish man had previously occupied.

Frowning, I slowly step towards it, afraid it could be something dangerous.

The poorly lit area obstructs my view at first, and though I can make out the outline, I don’t realize what it is until I stop in front of the bench.

My hand flies to my mouth in surprise, my heart beating loud in my chest.

There, placed haphazardly in a makeshift bowl, are the flowers I’d been desiring as my birthday gift—the purple blooms I’d only seen in the pages of a book.

I swallow hard as I take the bowl in my hand, surveying its state.

Immediately, I can tell that this had been done by someone unfamiliar with gardening, the entire situation messy. At the same time, the root of the plant has been perfectly preserved so I can move it into my garden.

At once, I know it’s not my mother who’s done this. She hadn’t even remembered what I’d wanted for my birthday. And she certainly wouldn’t have been able to journey to the other end of the Empire to get it for me.

Only someone with the ability to cover great distances in moments’ time would have been able to do this.

Someone like…

‘You like my present, Sela?’ his smooth voice hits me right in the chest, causing my heart to stop for a second before resuming beating.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

As if being reset, it assumes a different rhythm that coincidentally matches his breaths.

‘You,’ I state accusingly, turning and coming face to face with him. The same male from before—the one who’d been haunting my thoughts ever since he’d disappeared from my sight.

‘What are you doing here?’ I narrow my eyes at him as I try to decipher his intentions.

‘I told you I’d be back.’

He’s wearing different clothes from before, a pair of beige linen pants and a loose white shirt. Even though his garb is ordinary, it does nothing to decrease from his formidable appeal. It certainly doesn’t make an effort to hide his massive chest or his muscular thighs.

Despite the loose fit of the clothes, his muscles strain against the fabric. If he’d wanted to pass for a simple peasant, he most definitely failed.

No peasant would look that…decadent.

Yet there’s another feature that makes me still in my tracks.

His white hair, previously tied tightly at his nape, now flows down his shoulders, its sheen absolutely magnificent.

‘Why would you be back?’ I stammer.

He’d seemed acquainted with my mother, though his opinion of her had struck me as abysmal.

Is that why he’s here? To use me to get to my mother? Exact some type of revenge on her? But why? Surely if he’s a rebel then he should recognize they are on the same side against the empire.

‘Perish that thought, lovely Sela. I’m only here for you,’ he murmurs as he steps closer.

Instinctively, I take a step back until my legs meet the bench. I teeter for a moment before I fall.

Yet it’s not as gauche as I would have imagined. Not when my bottom meets a soft yet hard surface, strong arms wrapping around me and taking the little potted flower out of my hands.

‘You’ll hurt yourself,’ he whispers in my ear.

Just like before, I find myself speechless not only in the face of his impressive abilities, but also his equally devastating presence.

I drag a ragged breath into my lungs as his heat engulfs me, seeping through my clothes.

‘I haven’t given you leave to touch me,’ I muster a feeble protest.

‘You haven’t vocalized it. But your eyes do not lie,’ he speaks in my ear. ‘I’m not the only one feeling this madness, am I, lovely Sela?’ he murmurs softly.

Damn it, but why does he have to be so appealing? Even operating under the impression that he is some kind of ruffian, a rebel who is sought by the authorities, I still cannot steel myself against him.

Is this normal, I wonder?

Am I just so starved for interaction that I lose my head to the first male I meet? Would I react the same to another?

A growl escapes him, the sound so potent it travels through my veins as shivers overtake me—yet I’m not afraid. At least, it’s not the type of fear one would have for one’s life. It’s something utterly different…

‘It’s not normal. Of that I can assure you,’ he rasps against me, once more, reading my mind.

‘Stop reading my thoughts,’ I hiss at him.

‘It’s not my fault you broadcast them so loudly, lass,’ he chuckles. ‘But maybe this will answer your question,’ he says as he brings his lips down my neck again, inhaling me deeply while trailing his open mouth down my flesh.

A wave of awareness hits me at once, places I’d never given much thought to flaring to life and throbbing. And it’s all because this stranger is…licking me.

‘Remove all thoughts of other males from your mind,’ he states savagely. ‘You will not react to another the same, Sela. Of that you have my vow.’

My lips tremble as I attempt to form a reply. His touch is everywhere, lulling me into a sense of security unlike I’ve ever known.

It’s not just interaction I’m starved for. It’s touch, too.

And when he buries his face in my neck, I can only arch against him, purring happily at the way his touch feels.

When was the last time someone had given me a hug?

I can’t remember.

Maybe it is madness that I am yielding with nary a protest, but starvation gnaws at me as I cover his hands with my own, throwing my head back and allowing him more freedom of movement.

I wiggle in his lap, feeling the hilt of his sword poking me in my back but trying not to mind it too much.

He lays small, sweet kisses all over the column of my neck.

‘You smell so good. So fucking delectable I’d like nothing more than eat you.’

Somehow that one sentence is enough to put a damper on my shameless behavior. Especially as I’d read about some species that…well, eat others.

Jumping out of his arms, I take a few steps back, biting my lip and regarding him with apprehension.

His eyes flicker between red and black. Now, that is something I’ve never read about. Do they change at will, or does something influence them?

He rises from the bench, a smirk pulling at his lips.

It’s at the same time that I notice that the front of his pants have become tented.

Is that… Is that what was poking me in the backside?

My wide eyes meet his as I continue to walk backwards.

‘My eyes change according to my mood,’ he answers casually.

‘What does red or black mean, then?’

He smiles lazily, almost like a cat.

‘Black is when I’m at my tipping point. Red is halfway there,’ he explains.

‘Where?’ I frown.

‘Ah, Sela, you’re such an innocent, are you not?’

‘Well, will you tell me or will you not?’ I snap as I cross my arms over my chest, tapping my foot at him.

Odd that I’m feeling so daring with this man when he has the power to snap me in two. My healing abilities aside, I have no doubt he would do what nothing seems to have ever worked—destroy me.

‘War,’ he says and as I blink, he appears right before me. ‘It’s the bloodlust in me that claws its way to the surface.’

‘You want to…hurt me?’ I ask as I gulp down a sliver of fear.

‘No,’ he shakes his head, his lips drawn up in an amused smile. ‘I’m finding there’s a second reason for it.’

I flutter my lashes in confusion.

Leaning towards me, he brushes his lips across my earlobe before speaking.

‘Lust.’

‘Lust?’ I repeat, dumbfounded.

‘I’m a war machine, Sela. I was forged with the explicit purpose of bathing in my enemies’ blood. Slaughtering, marauding, killing. If my eyes turn black, make no mistake, I don’t lose myself to the bloodlust,’ he drawls seductively. ‘I give myself to it.’

‘Is that what this is about?’ I ask as I bring my hand to my neck, trailing my fingers over the surface he’d scraped the other day. ‘You want my…blood?’

He smiles.

‘And if I did?’

‘You can’t have it,’ I answer sharply, narrowing my eyes at him.

What is he?

‘I am ruin, Sela. I will be your ruin,’ he states seriously. ‘If only I could stay away…’

‘You…should?’ I murmur weakly, thoroughly lost in his eyes.

The last of the red has faded away until only the clear blue remains—the most beautiful blue.

‘If you continue to look at me like that, I won’t be able to stop myself, lovely Sela. You’re far too tempting for a man who’s never denied himself anything in his life.’

‘I…’ I lick my lips, still staring at him. ‘I have food. I’m not sure how much better than blood that is, but you can join me to eat.’ I don’t know what prompts me to utter that foolish invitation.

His eyes crinkle at the corners as his mouth spreads into a breathtaking smile.

‘As you wish,’ he inclines his head.

Taking my hand, he leads me to the kitchen, taking out a chair for me and seating me at the table. My gaze follows him silently as he moves around the kitchen as if he’s been here a million times before.

He doesn’t ask me any questions, or demand anything of me.

He simply heats up the food before pouring me a fresh serving and pouring himself another one.

I keep watching him, barely even breathing for fear I’m going to disturb this scenery in front of me, that I’m going to blink and everything will turn out to be just a dream—just a figment of my imagination.

Yet I doubt I could ever conjure up a male as striking as him, one who is equally ill-mannered as he is sweet. I doubt I am capable of such mental acrobatics.

So I just watch, letting that tingle of awareness spread all over my body.

My heart thuds in my ear, my pulse seemingly going berserk.

And as he surprises me by cutting some thyme and basil over my stew before doing the same for his own, I can no longer deny what is happening.

I am smitten.

Unfortunately, it had to be with an outlaw.

The books certainly did not lie when they mentioned that you cannot command the heart.

‘You read my mind about the flower, did you not?’

He nods.

‘How did you get it so fast? It’s endemic to the other end of the Empire. On horseback that would take at least a month.’

‘I can move fast,’ he smiles.

‘What are you?’ I finally make the courage to ask.

He falters for a moment.

‘It’s better you don’t know.’

I frown.

‘Why?’

He doesn’t answer me, merely watching me with naked hunger in his gaze despite having a sizable portion of food in front of him.

‘You could at least give me your name,’ I mumble.

‘Amon.’

‘Amon?’ I’d seen that name before in the history books. But I imagine it must be an immensely popular one since it’s associated with one of the most infamous figures in the Vissirian Empire’s history.

‘I love hearing my name on your lips,’ he murmurs.

His hand reaches for my face as he brushes his thumb under my lip, swiping a stain of food off my skin and bringing it back to his own mouth. He sucks on his thumb with gusto, all the while his eyes never leaving mine.

I blush, but I don’t look away. Is it a dare, or an invitation? A promise for the future or a tease?

Despite the unusual feelings he instills in me, there is something utterly comfortable about being in his presence.

A deep desire unfolds inside of me to climb back on his lap and let him put his massive arms around me, surrounding me with a protective cocoon and never letting me go.

Foolish, isn’t it? I’ve only met him twice and yet his arms feel like the home I’ve never had despite living very self-sufficiently.

‘Then I should tell you, Amon, that I am not versed in the politics of our world. I may have the theoretical basis down, but there are many things I do not know. If I ask, it is because I am genuinely curious,’ I tell him seriously.

A brow goes up as he looks at me expectantly, almost as if I surprised him with my words.

‘I’ve read all the canonical literature on the species of our world, and I have some knowledge about that, but I must confess I’ve never met anyone in person aside from my mother, a few of her acquaintances and the staff that changes with the season.’

He purses his lips as he takes a moment to ponder his next words.

‘Do you know what a Reva is?’

I frown and shake my head. The name is awfully familiar but as I try to remember, I cannot do so.

‘They were a people in the North of the Empire, many, many eons ago. They were few to begin with, but their numbers dwindled over the years since the Empire hunted them down to near extinction.’

‘Why?’

‘Because their abilities were…unique.’

‘How unique?’

‘There are species on Arkgor that can wield the elements, but only the Reva of the North could wield matter.’

‘Matter? Can you be more specific?’

He smiles. Holding out his hand, he materializes the flower pot from before and places it down on the table.

My eyes widen in shock.

I’d never read about anyone able to do something like…that.

‘This is but one of the consequences of this ability. The most deadly one is wielding the matter of being. Quite simply put, I can make someone’s insides explode. And to the Vissirian Empire that is something as dangerous as Vissirian Silver. Maybe more, because rhodium does not have a mind of its own.’

‘So you’re a…Reva?’

‘Part. But I’ve never identified myself as such, just as I don’t use those abilities so I won’t draw unnecessary attention to myself.’

‘You’re telling me it’s dangerous for people to know you’re part Reva.’

‘That is correct.’

‘Then why are you telling it to me if it’s so dangerous? Aren’t you afraid I’m going to tell someone?’

He shakes his head, his mouth curled up in a perpetual smile.

‘But how would you know? I could very well be a spy planted here in the middle of nowhere to ply tales out of weary travelers,’ I shrug.

‘You’ve a very active imagination, lass,’ he laughs. ‘But I am not worried you will tell on me.’

‘Why?’ I narrow my eyes. ‘I could be dangerous,’ I throw the idea out there. ‘Mayhap not a spy since clearly I would have failed at holding my own,’ I pause as I tap my jaw with my finger. ‘But what if I was stationed here to seduce this information out of you?’

‘You’re trying very hard to convince me you’re not to be trusted, lovely Sela,’ he chuckles. ‘But say you were instructed to catch me here and seduce me. You’d be doing a rather poor job of it.’

My cheeks flame at his insult.

‘W-what do you mean?’

‘You thought a sword was poking you in the backside, lass. Need I say more?’ he asks, amused.

‘But there was a sword…’ I reply lamely, embarrassment coloring me red from head to toe.

‘Sure there was,’ he laughs. ‘I only told you in an attempt to show you I am in earnest about my intentions, my darling Sela. I hope that by knowing this one weakness of mine you will feel more at…ease with me.’

That…That somehow makes me feel warm inside. Damn it! Why does he have to be sweet at the perfect moments? Now, not only do I feel flattered by his attention, but I’m also thrilled to be the only one knowing that secret of his.

‘Is that why people were looking for you? Because of your ability?’

He shakes his head, suddenly sobering up.

‘No. You would be the only one to know I am part Reva now,’ he adds, stunning me with that piece of information. ‘They were looking for me for another reason altogether.’

‘Why?’

‘It hasn’t escaped my notice that you lied for me,’ he suddenly says. ‘You’re not as indifferent to me as you try to seem, are you?’ he drawls seductively as he reaches across the table to cover my hand with his own.

Damn it, but who was I kidding?

He’d be more equipped to seduce me than I could ever be to seduce him. Especially as heat pools low in my belly, the sensation utterly disconcerting as I rub my thighs together to alleviate the pulsation in my loins.

His nostrils flare as he looks at me, and his eyes shift to red again.

‘Stop moving,’ he rasps, squeezing my hand.

‘W-what?’

‘If you want me to be civilized, you need to stop moving, lass,’ he pauses as he releases a pained groan. ‘I can smell your arousal.’

I blink, thinking I haven’t heard him right.

‘You…what?’

‘The more you move, the more potent it is for me. Stop. Moving.’

All at once, I freeze.

For a few moments, he gulps down deep breaths, almost as if he is suffocating.

‘I was right, wasn’t I? You are a brute. There’s nothing civilized about you, Amon,’ I accuse, staring mutinously at him.

‘Ah, my lovely Sela, how right you are about that. Yet for you, I’m trying to be,’ he murmurs as he tries to contain the red in his eyes from becoming the darkest black.

‘You’re one of those rebels on the run, are you not? My mother told me they are accused for the assassination of the Emperor.’

He simply shrugs.

‘You’re not denying it.’

‘It is true. And you are correct on another point. Accused. That doesn’t mean guilty.’

‘So you’re saying you’re not guilty?’

‘Exactly. Though I don’t doubt the entire world wishes I were,’ he sighs.

For the first time, I note the signs of weariness on his face. If until now he’d seem entirely jovial and charming, bent on teasing me at every turn, now he looks almost…disappointed.

‘How do you know my mother, then? You called her Lady Luck. How did you know that’s her nickname?’

‘The question is how well do you know your mother, Sela?’ he fires back.

‘I know she is a good woman,’ I push my chin up.

‘A good woman who keeps her daughter hidden from the world?’ he snorts.

‘She has very good reasons to do so. I don’t begrudge her. Just because you don’t know her, it doesn’t mean you’re allowed to make judgements about her character.’

Yes, I am aware how my situation might seem from the outside. But my mother is doing it for my protection.

‘But that’s the issue. I do know her. Far better than you do.’

My lip twitches in displeasure.

‘I thought you said you’d never touched her,’ I grit out, surprised at myself for the wave of jealousy that hits me, my entire body tensing up for his answer.

‘And I haven’t,’ he rolls his eyes. ‘But I know her from court.’

‘Court?’ I frown.

‘Sela, Sela. You truly have no idea who your mother is.’

‘I don’t understand what you mean. What court?’

‘She is—was—the Emperor’s mistress.’

I blink repeatedly as I don’t think I heard him right.

‘What did you say?’ I whisper.

‘You heard me right. She was the former Emperor’s favorite mistress, and currently an advisor for the new Emperor. Isn’t that quite the coincidence?’

‘I don’t…’

I swallow hard, feeling as if I’m munching on sharp glass.

He’s implying that my mother was involved in the assassination, is he not? Because otherwise why would a new Emperor bestow such an important function on his predecessor’s mistress.

Whenever the Vissirian Empire had changed Emperors, it was always a bloody process. There has never—not once—in the history of the empire been a peaceful succession. Of that much I am aware. The court is a battlefield in itself, war reigning supreme even at the most elevated title in the Empire.

And whenever there was a new leader, he would execute the retinue of the former one.

‘You’re not suggesting that my mother is a…traitor…’ I barely get the words out before realization dawns on me.

From an early age she’d told me she wanted to see Milena back to its former glory, and that one day it would happen. I just never gave much credence to her words because of the current situation and the fact that the Empire had been more stable than ever.

Yet as I slowly ruminate over this piece of information, I wonder if she could have done that. If she could have bedded the enemy just to infiltrate the court and his confidence…

‘You need to leave,’ I suddenly get up.

No! My mother may be many things, but she is an honorable woman.

After all, I’ve grown up with tales of Milena’s bravery and honor in battle. There is no way that someone who would have preached those values would have resorted to such…tricks.

‘Sela…’

‘Please leave,’ I repeat, though my voice cracks.

If I don’t believe it to be true, why is my voice breaking? Why do I feel like I’m suffocating?

‘Lass, let me…’

‘Leave, Amon. You are no longer welcomed here,’ I tell him with all the strength I can muster.

His eyes darken just as his lips harden into a flat line.

‘You are overwrought. I apologize for making you so. I will take my leave now,’ he inclines his head. ‘But make no mistake, Sela. I am coming back for you.’

My brows crease in confusion. Even believing my mother would be a traitor, and the Emperor’s harlot to boot, he still would come back?

‘Why?’

‘Because I claimed you as mine.’