Edward, who was montarily stunned by her beautiful smile where she still had a faint glow in her body, only recovered when Cece subtly cleared her throat, well aware of the effect of her friend’s pure smile on people.
Edward cleared his throat, embarrassed for having let himself shalessly stare at her, said in a steady voice, "Now, just take a deep breath and will your powers to settle inside you. With that, the faint glow will fade."
Eve obeyed, drawing in slow asured breaths, only for the faint glow to dim gradually, until it was gone.
"Very good, Your Highness," Edward said with an approving nod. "For the first couple of tis, I would suggest you practice only in the presence of one of us, so that we can monitor your progress and step in if we sense anything wrong. Once you’ve mastered this, we can move on to the next step. But for now, we should stop here, as we don’t want to push you too much."
Eve rose to her feet, brushing a stray leaf from her skirt. "Alright, thank you so much Lord Edward, I appreciate all your efforts to help ."
A faint flush crept onto Edward’s face, though his tone remained formal. "Please don’t ntion it, Your Highness. It is my duty to assist you, as you are a mber of our kingdom’s royalty." He hesitated, shifting his weight slightly before adding, "If it isn’t too much...you’re welco to address simply as Edward." He dipped his head, glancing up through his lashes, unsure of how she’d respond.
Eve blinked in surprise, then her lips curved into a warm, genuine smile. "Alright, Edward, I’d be happy to, only if you address as Evelyn."
His brows lifted, and he started, "Your Highness, how do I-"
"Well, Cece and Damien call by my na because that’s what friends do," she said gently. "And aren’t we...friends now?"
Edward flattered for a heartbeat, clearly taken aback, but before he could form a reply, Cece said with a dry smile, "Lord Edward, are you planning to stand here mute all day?"
That broke his composure and a faint smile blood his handso face, "Yes...we’re friends."
Evelyn’s eyes lit up and she bead at him, "I look forward to more of your help, Edward."
"Likewise...Evelyn," he replied warmly. Then he turned to Cece, softening his expression, "Lady Cece, you can also address just by my na. I’d like us to be friends as well, if you don’t mind."
Cece’s lips quirked in a sly smile. "Well, Edward, since you’ve given permission, I suppose I’ll make use of it. But don’t expect to go easy on you just because we’re friends." She crossed her arms lightly, but there was a playful glint in her eyes that softened the words.
Edward chuckled under his breath. "I wouldn’t dream of it."
That mont marked the beginning of a bond that, despite the trials ahead, seed destined to last a lifeti.
....
In the dim, forgotten corner of Raven Street stood a small, weathered grey shop, far away from the bustling heart of the market. Its warped wooden sign creaked faintly in the wind and dust clung to its grimy windows.
Without warning, the door burst open, splintering under the force of n clad in combat gear with their faces hidden beneath black hoods barged in like a shadowy tide.
The cramped, dusty interior was lined with crooked shelves, each filled with glass bottles with strange liquid of different colours.
The shopkeeper, a fat man with greasy, unkempt white hair, a hunched back, and darting, bead-like eyes jerked in alarm at the sudden intrusion. "Who the hell are you?!" he barked, his voice as rough and unpleasant as the stench of the shop.
When he saw the hooded n coming closer to him, he turned to flee, but before he could take two steps, one of the hooded intruders slamd into him with brutal force. Two more seized him by the arms, pinning him in place as he struggled and cursed.
"What’s the aning of this?!" he roared, thrashing against their iron grip. A tall man strode in, wrinkling his nose the mont the stench hit him. "Oh, lovely," he drawled. "Did sothing crawl in here and die."
The shopkeeper stilled the mont his beady red eyes fell on the figure who had just walked in. Dread started to crawl up his spine as he felt the dangerous aura radiating from the man.
Then, as if the air itself thickened when a second presence entered, his aura was dark and violent like a storm ready to unleash. His footsteps, sharp yet regal creaked softly against the worn out wooden floor.
He couldn’t see their faces, yet his entire being scread a warning, that these two n were no ordinary visitors. His body began to tremble under the weight of their crushing aura as they drew closer to him.
One of the n, whose very presence felt more dangerous than anyone the shopkeeper had ever encountered, spoke quietly, "Alex."
The man nad Alex, who had tackled him earlier, moved swiftly and pulled out a small glass bottle, holding it inches from the shopkeeper’s face and asked in a cold voice, "Did you sell this?"
The shopkeeper squinted his beady eyes, to observe the bottle for a second before realising it was one of the potions he had recently sold. He swallowed hard as panic twisted his gut. He realised if he admitted the truth, he’d rot in the dungeons for the rest of his life for selling a banned potion.
So he lied through his crooked teeth, "No! It wasn’t ! I’ve never seen this in my li-"
Whack!
A brutal blow smashed across his face, sending blood and two teeth flying to the floor.
One of the tall man standing said, "Careful with your words, old man, unless you’re eager to start gumming your als for the rest of your life."
The shopkeeper spat out the blood pooling in his mouth and swallowed the pain as his knees buckled beneath him, "Please Sire, I didn’t do anything...I’m just a poor old shopkeeper, trying to scrape together enough for a decent al each day."
The tall man’s gaze dropped to his pot belly and he tilted his head, "Yes...starving to death, I can tell." He cracked his knuckles together, the sound promising another lesson in pain.
Before he could co any closer, the shopkeeper blurted out, while shaking uncontrollably, "Pl-Please f-forgive sire! I only sold on-one bottle a few days ago. I was only trying to make a little mo-money...as you can see, I don’t get too much bus-business."
Another dangerous man who stood still since he walked in, asked in a low yet commanding voice, "And who did you sell it to?"
"I-I don’t rember sire! The man’s face was covered with a mask." he lied again, thinking that if the other guy found out he had ratted him out, he’d surely co after him.
Ivan, who could sense people’s malicious intent, imdiately detected the lie. He had been simring in anger since the day Eve had been drugged and was itching to catch those responsible. On top of that, his last conversation with her had only soared his mood further. Now, having caught one of the filthy rats involved in her drugging incident, he saw the shopkeeper as an outlet for his maddening rage. So without another word he stepped forward and lifted the man by his neck with a single hand as if he weighed nothing, letting his feet dangle above the floor.
The shopkeeper’s eyes widened in shock at the sheer strength of this dangerous man. He tried using his ager vampiric strength to free himself, but it did little to nothing.
Others stepped away from their prince, knowing exactly what was about to happen next.
Damien, who was standing next to Ivan, clicked his tongue and said, "I did warn you, old man. Looks like you’re about to get a firsthand look at hell today." He shook his head with mock disappointnt.
"Do you know what I do to liars?" Ivan asked, his voice low and nacing.
His molten red eyes watched the man tremble in fear and his lips curled up in a cruel smirk. "First...I pull out their tongue for wasting my ti. Then...I skin them alive, slowly, savouring every scream," He tightened his grip on his neck and his voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "And just when they think death might co...it doesn’t. Death is far too easy for those who dare to deceive . I pour salt over their raw flesh, leaving them to starve and rot in the darkness... and in the end, the hungry rats finish what I start, feasting on them...piece by piece."
Ivan’s every word, describing the horrors of his torture, send a bone-deep chill run down the spines of everyone in the shop, everyone except Damien and Alex, who stood unaffected. The shopkeeper who was trembling violently finally lost control of himself, wetting his pants as the weight of his impending fate pressed down. Stamring, he croaked, "Pl-Please...f-fo-forgive ,..I wi-will tell...y-you..everything.."
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