But Queen Astrid didn't answer. She simply stepped forward, her expression unreadable as she loomed over the trembling girl before her.
"Maybe because, unlike me, you've always been disgusting," Astrid murmured, her voice smooth but laced with venom. "Other women raise well-trained daughters, but you? You seduced a married man and birthed this." She flicked her gaze toward Alexia with cold disdain. "Blind in spirit and body. No wonder your daughter is a freak."
Aria's grip tightened on Alexia's shoulders, though she couldn't see the queen's expression behind her silk blindfold. "Don't you dare." Her voice trembled with rage. "We both know what happened that night. And my daughter is not a freak!" She turned sharply toward the silent king, her voice urgent. "Luther, tell them!"
But before the king could even part his lips, the high priest's voice rang through the chamber like a death knell.
"My king, we must burn them."
The words cut through the air, freezing Alexia's blood in her veins.
"We must cleanse this land," the priest continued, his violet eyes gleaming with righteous fervor. "We cannot allow such abominations to taint our kingdom—much less within the royal bloodline."
Astrid's lips curved into something resembling a smile. "Your Majesty, the high priest knows best," she murmured, tilting her head in mock reverence. "You are a king first, a husband second... and a father last."
Her crimson eyes flickered downward, locking onto the mother and daughter crumpled on the floor.
And she waited.
Waited for the king to decide their fate.
"What's her potential? What rank?" Luther's voice cut through the tense silence.
The high priest blinked, momentarily confused before answering, "F-rank, Your Majesty."
Luther stilled. Then, ever so slowly, a smile curled his lips. A low chuckle rumbled from his throat, growing into deep, resonant laughter. "F-rank. The daughter of the Eternal Sun… is a lowly F-rank."
His laughter echoed through the throne room, cold and sharp, until it abruptly stopped. His golden eyes settled on the mother and child curled together on the marble floor.
"Aria," he said, voice softer now—almost gentle. "I'm sorry."
Aria's entire body trembled.
A silent, broken "What?" escaped her lips as she clutched Alexia tighter, as if holding her close could shield her from the weight of that single, devastating sentence.
"I admire your wisdom, Your Majesty." The high priest bowed, exhaling in relief.
"You will burn no one."
The room fell into stunned silence.
"What? Your Majesty!" The high priest's voice wavered, his composure slipping.
On the sidelines, Astrid's frown deepened. Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms as she glared at Aria with barely contained hatred.
Luther's gaze was cold, distant. "Concubine Aria of Lysandera, you are hereby sentenced to servitude as a temple slave, placed directly under the high priest's authority. You shall spend your remaining days repenting for your sins."
He did not look at her. Would not.
Aria's arms tightened around Alexia, her stance unyielding.
Luther sighed. "You leave me no choice. Guards, take her away."
The high priest's lips curled into a victorious smile. "Do not fear, Your Majesty. I shall personally oversee her purification—in the name of Lugus."
Aria said nothing.
She only held onto her daughter.
The guards stormed in without hesitation, their armored hands latching onto Aria with brutal efficiency. She gasped, struggling against their grip, but they were relentless, yanking her away from Alexia without mercy.
"Luther! How could you?" Aria's voice cracked, raw with betrayal. "You promised to protect us! Alexia!"
She twisted, reaching for her daughter, but the guards dragged her away. Her desperate cries echoed through the grand hall, fading into the cold corridors beyond.
The high priest bowed with a serene smile, as if this were nothing more than another sacred duty. "I shall take my leave, Your Majesty," he said, before following after her—like a wolf trailing behind wounded prey.
And then there was silence.
Alexia stood frozen, her small hands clenched at her sides. Slowly, she lifted her golden eyes to her father.
Luther didn't move. Didn't speak.
Didn't even look at her.
Luther descended the throne steps with a slow, measured pace, his heavy robes sweeping across the polished marble floor. His golden eyes, so much like Alexia's, held no warmth—only cold resignation.
"Alexia." His voice was quiet, almost gentle. "Father loves you, but you're not worth fighting for."
Alexia's lips parted, a fragile spark of hope flickering in her chest. "Father… I'm sorry. I don't know—"
Luther sighed, cutting her off. "Maybe if you were stronger. If you had the potential to be a warrior, a worthy heir… then I would have reason to fight for you."
The spark in Alexia's chest flickered—then died.
Her breath hitched.
Luther didn't stop. "You will be locked in the Ancient Dragon Cemetery. Dry fasting." His words were final, like an executioner's blade. "You must appease our ancestors. Prove yourself—by staying alive."
A sharp inhale came from the side.
"Father?"
Lucius' voice was soft, hesitant, as he finally spoke from his quiet place in the corner. His bright eyes, so full of fire moments ago, now darkened with something uncertain—something dangerously close to fear.
He looked at his little sister.
"You are a prince, born of a noble queen. Stop concerning yourself with garbage." Astrid's voice was cold as she pushed her son back.
Lucius barely stumbled before straightening. His golden eyes darkened. "Lex isn't garbage, Mother." His tone was firm as he tried to bypass her.
Astrid exhaled sharply, unimpressed.
"Why are they even doing this to her?" Lucius asked, glancing back at Alexia, his fingers curling into fists. "What's a hybrid?"
Astrid scoffed. "Something unnatural."
Lucius' gaze flickered, something shifting behind his bright eyes. "Unnatural?" He tilted his head. "Mother, you mean… rare."
Astrid huffed, rolling her eyes. "You could put it that way."
A slow smile spread across Lucius' face. "Rare things must be protected." His voice dropped to a whisper, his eyes locked onto Alexia's trembling form.
"My sister is a rarity. I must treasure and protect her."
Astrid sighed, already losing patience. "Enough. We're leaving." She grasped his wrist and pulled him along, her grip tight and unyielding.
Lucius didn't resist. He let her drag him forward—but his eyes never left Alexia.
"Alexia, I'll protect you." He murmured one last time, smiling to himself.
Luther's gaze bore into his daughter, his golden eyes burning with fury.
"I do not need a monster as an offspring, much less a useless one."
His voice was calm—too calm. Cold enough to freeze the blood in her veins.
"Guards. Take her away."
Rough hands seized her arms, dragging her to her feet. Alexia didn't resist. She didn't struggle. She didn't cry.
She simply stared ahead, unblinking. Empty.
"I'm… a monster."
The words slipped from her lips, so quiet only she could hear them.
— Darkness.
It swallowed her whole.
Alexia jolted awake, her breath ragged, sweat clinging to her skin. Her wide, golden eyes darted around the dimly lit room, searching—waiting. But there was no throne room, no burning gazes, no crushing weight of the past.
Just silence.
She exhaled slowly, running a shaky hand through her damp black hair. Why does the world keep forcing me to relive this? she thought bitterly.
[ Good morning, Host! :-D ]
Alexia stared at the floating text.
"…."
[ Host is free to continue brooding. Hermes will keep himself busy. ]
Alexia buried her face in her hands. It's too early for this.
Alexia sighed as she pushed herself up from the bed, moving sluggishly. The moment she straightened, a sharp ache shot through her shoulders.
She winced. "I just had to sleep in armor, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did."
A shiver ran down her spine.
Oh no. Not again.
She squeezed her eyes shut, as if willing reality to change. She wasn't ready to deal with Lucius this early in the morning.
Golden sunlight filtered through the balcony doors, casting a warm glow over the room.
"Dear sister, what's the rush?"
Alexia froze mid-stretch.
Lucius stood at the threshold, his peach hair kissed by the morning light, his golden eyes crinkling with amusement. He looked utterly at ease, hands tucked behind his back like he belonged there.
"How did you enjoy your desires?" he murmured, stepping inside.
Alexia turned sharply, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Too early for this. "Why is a prince breaking into people's rooms first thing in the morning?"
Lucius sighed dramatically. "Lex, I apologize for my lack of restraint, but…" His smile deepened, voice laced with something too sweet to be innocent. "A gentleman always fulfills his promises—even in blood."
He moved closer, the soft click of his boots against the floor making her nerves prickle.
Alexia scowled, arms crossing. "You're enjoying this too much."
Lucius hummed, tilting his head. "Fierce." His gaze swept over her, lingering in a way that sent a shiver up her spine. "I see your emotions are still leading you on." Then, softer—far too intimate. "Did you dream of me?"
Before she could answer, he was there.
Close.
Too close.
His golden eyes locked onto hers, watching—searching.
Alexia's breath hitched. Why did he always do this?
The morning sun streamed in, bright and warm.
Yet somehow, Lucius made the air feel too thick to breathe.
"Sister."
Lucius' voice was soft—warm, even—as he stepped through the balcony doors, his golden eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.
"I'm so glad you're still here. Forgive my little stunt yesterday. As an older brother, it's my duty to stop you from making reckless choices." He tilted his head, smiling. "Like running away."
He took a slow step forward.
"Unless, of course…" His voice dropped into a murmur. "You allow me to accompany you."
Alexia refused to meet his gaze, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. But that didn't stop Lucius.
He sighed, as if discussing something utterly mundane. "Time flies, doesn't it? My dear sister will be seventeen after tomorrow." His smile widened, but his eyes—his eyes were unreadable.
"Sister, have you given any thought to suitors?"
Alexia tensed. "Lucius, I don't like anyone right now," she blurted, waving her hands frantically.
Lucius stilled. Then, he chuckled.
"Oh, Sister… Why are you acting so nervous?" His tone remained light, teasing. "I was just curious. You see, I met a certain prince who told me something quite interesting."
He leaned in slightly, his golden eyes sharp with something… unreadable. "He said he felt a spark with you. True love."
Lucius sighed, shaking his head. "Naturally, I had to confirm it myself. After all, it would be wrong for someone to force their feelings onto you if you didn't return them."
Another step.
"You don't return them, do you?" His voice was as gentle as a lover's whisper. "You wouldn't cry if he bled, wouldn't feel sad if he died, wouldn't be pained that your little love story… ended before it began?"
The warmth in his smile never faltered.
Alexia's breath hitched. "I… I don't even know him," she admitted, stepping backward instinctively.
Lucius exhaled slowly. Then, he beamed.
"What a relief." His voice was almost tender. "I don't have to be worried anymore."
His steps followed hers, slow and deliberate.
And no matter how far she moved back—
Lucius never let the distance grow.
Lucius watched as Alexia bolted, her footsteps quick, her breathing uneven. The bathroom door slammed shut, the lock clicking into place.
How cute.
He didn't move. Didn't follow.
Didn't need to.
Instead, he turned toward her bed, his gaze softening as he traced the subtle indentations on the sheets—the proof that she had been there.
A slow smile spread across his lips.
"Don't worry, sister," he murmured, stretching out leisurely before collapsing onto the bed. He sank into the lingering warmth, exhaling in quiet satisfaction. "I'll wait for you. We have the whole day ahead of us."
He shifted slightly, fingers brushing over the fabric as he inhaled deeply. A faint scent clung to it—delicate, familiar.
Precious.
His golden eyes flickered toward the locked door, amusement glinting in their depths.
"Prince Alastor, hmm?"
A low chuckle escaped him, dark and knowing.
How bold. How foolish.
He would have to deal with that.
He sat up, his sharp eyes drifting over the modest room. A quiet chuckle left his lips before he let himself fall back against the bed.
"Father really gave a princess a room like this? Unacceptable. I'll have to fix that."
His brows furrowed as he mentally sorted through his obligations. "I should visit concubine mother—she must miss me. And then… I need a decent excuse for mother as to why her beloved prince vanished from that ridiculous blind date."
He sighed, exhaling slowly as he pressed his face into the sheets.
"All of that can wait. My sister is rare, and rare things deserve priority. Yes… she comes first."
His voice was barely a whisper, but the conviction in his tone was absolute.