Vladimir Phoenix
He was panting, eyes locked on me—wide, wild. The guards in the dining hall drew their weapons. The maids trembled, but he didn't seem to notice; his gaze was only on me.
"Long time no see, Astra," I said, breaking my silence after a month and twelve days, flashing my warmest smile.
The servants' eyes widened in shock. Did they think I'd gone mute? Another presence approached the hall.
"Astra! Did you see him? We have to go—the guards are coming!" a woman called out, stopping by Astra's side. She was stunning, quick to glance at me.
"Is that him? We need to leave, my summons can't stop them," she said hurriedly.
But Astra stood frozen, silent.
He staggered toward me, guards aiming weapons at him.
"Astra!" the woman yelled.
"Touch him, and you all die," I said coldly, not looking at the guards, my eyes still on Astra.
They froze, wary. I stepped forward; when close enough, Astra hugged me. I expected a handshake—this surprised me. The woman watched, baffled.
Astra then collapsed unconscious. I dismissed the guards chasing them.
When he woke, we caught up. I met Amelia—the woman traveling with him. We were the same age.
Their bond was like siblings', which suited me fine. I was just glad he was alive and stronger, with a powerful ally by his side.
They had been searching for me, but now they didn't need to. I offered they stay until Father returned.
Astra hesitated but agreed, wanting to keep the peace with Father.
We trained together. Amelia and Astra picked up the concepts I learned from that fur coat freak quickly.
Astra was surprised I preferred daggers over swords, but training went well.
After a month of Amelia complaining about my hair, she cut it. I noticed silver threads in it and my eyes, once dark blue, now looked colder.
Father returned from the Capital and summoned me to his office.
Without looking up, he said, "We leave for the Capital in a week. Get ready."
I smiled coldly. "Is that so? Perfect. I can begin my plan."
"Yes, the elders wish to see you," he added.
I gritted my teeth. It'd be my first time meeting those old shits.
"And get rid of that sorry excuse for a knight," Father spat, glaring at Astra.
The audacity.
"Repeat that," I said, voice icy.
He looked up, surprised, and repeated, "Get rid of that sorry excuse for a knight."
"No," I said bluntly.
"What did you say?" His eyes narrowed, cold aura rising.
"No. Astra is my Knight. I choose who stays or leaves. Stay out of my business."
"Boy, know your place," he growled, tone deadly.
This peasant dared to growl at me? The failure who quit every time he faced challenge, who gave up on love, on glory, on the throne. He was nothing.
I stepped forward, summoning frost.
"Hashi Art: Self Made Art Impaling Spike."
A silver spike burst from the table, stopping an inch from his throat. The room froze; frost crept up the windows.
He shivered—not from cold but fear—eyes locked on the spike.
I leaned in, voice amused.
"I hate being told what to do."
"Don't tell me what to do, you weakling."
His glare snapped back at me.
I smirked, turned, and left the office, feeling his icy stare burning my back. Perfect.