Draven stepped closer, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. Even under the dim glow of the moonlight, his presence felt overwhelming.
"Tell me, Majesty. Why does Nyxelene want you dead?" His voice was smooth, steady, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath it.
Hearing him say my mother's name so casually sent a shiver down my spine. He spoke it not with fear, nor with reverence, but as if he knew her. As if her existence was nothing more than a fact.
I swallowed hard, unsure how to answer. Did I even know the reason why mother wanted to kill me? Come to think of it, she never told me. She only used Micheal as an excuse.
A long silence stretched between us.
Draven tilted his head slightly, studying me with those unreadable crimson eyes.
"Aren't you putting your kingdom in danger by protecting me from the Queen of Runevale?" I asked, trying to change the subject, my voice steadier than I felt.
Nearby, Starlion was already barking orders, instructing the soldiers to prepare the camp for the night. The tension in the air was still thick, but they moved with practiced efficiency, their movements sharp and disciplined.
Draven chuckled softly, the sound rich with amusement. "Danger? Nyxelene knows better than to pick a fight with me." He met my gaze, his eyes filled with an unwavering confidence. "You're safe with me."
That smile again. Calm. Reassuring. Beautiful.
Then, without hesitation, he turned to Starlion. "Treat her well. She's my honoured guest." His tone was smooth, but there was something deeper laced within it—something unreadable.
Starlion gave a sharp nod. "Of course, Your Majesty."
Draven lingered for a second longer before turning on his heel and walking away.
"If I use her well, I can finally get back at Nyxelene for what she did to Starlion—my First Shadow."
Draven's thoughts were clear. His kindness was real, but so was his intent.
This was more than just protection.
This was war.
The tent was spacious—more than I expected. It was a luxury compared to what the other soldiers had. I could hear them outside, their voices carrying through the night, blending with the crackling of the campfires and the distant sounds of restless horses.
"Hey, did you see the girl? What was her name again… oh yeah, Majesty. When I got close, her torn clothes revealed some of her body. I'm telling you, she's a real gem." I stiffened at his words.
"If it was in the past, Lord Draven wouldn't have cared what we did to her. It's a shame he made her his guest. There goes our dream."
A few of them laughed, their voices low and hushed.
"What do you think she did to make the Queen of Runevale want her dead?"
"I don't know. She looks way too innocent to be a criminal."
"Speaking of Runevale, did you know their queen is rumored to be the most beautiful woman alive?"
"Wow, for real?"
"She's also rumored to be as ruthless as she is beautiful."
I stayed quiet, listening. I shouldn't care about their words, but something about the way they spoke about my mother made me uncomfortable. Not because I care but....I don't know.
Then, a familiar voice cut through the chatter like a blade.
"Get some rest. We leave early tomorrow." Starlion's tone was sharp, commanding.
"Yes, sir!" the soldiers replied in unison before quickly dispersing.
The sound of footsteps approached my tent, stopping just outside.
"I'm sorry if my men said anything to offend you." Starlion's voice was calm, almost like Lord draven.
I hesitated, then answered, "I didn't take it to heart."
There was a pause before he turned and walked away.
I frowned. He was so rude to me before—cold, suspicious, hostile. Why the sudden shift?
Was it because Lord Draven declared me his guest?
As I lay down, the weight of the day settled over me like a thick, suffocating fog. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop the memories from surfacing—Irene's voice, her warmth, her unwavering kindness. Now, she was gone.
A sharp sob escaped my lips before I could stop it. Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and relentless. I curled into myself, pressing a hand over my mouth to muffle the sounds, but the ache inside refused to be silenced.
Starlion was walking away when he heard it—the soft, broken sobs coming from inside the tent.
He stopped in his tracks, frowning. Was it something I said? A rare pang of guilt gnawed at him. He shook his head, about to leave it alone when he nearly walked straight into Draven.
"How is the guest?" Draven asked, his voice casual.
Starlion hesitated. "She's… um… she's crying."
Draven's eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. "Crying? Did you hit her or something?"
"What? No! I did no such thing, Lord Draven," Starlion said quickly, his expression twisting into something between shock and offense.
Draven chuckled. "Relax. It's probably because Javier killed people she knew."
Starlion exhaled, relieved he wasn't about to be accused of something worse. Still, curiosity nagged at him. "I know it's not my place to ask, but… why are you protecting her? If Runevale takes this as an act of war, Persia could—"
"Don't worry about it, Runevale is no threat to me," Draven interrupted smoothly. His crimson eyes darkened. "Have you forgotten how that little witch, Nyxelene, humiliated you?"
Starlion stiffened, jaw tightening at the memory.
"If I let it go, my reputation will take a hit," Draven continued. "And if that happens, the others will see it as a weakness—an opening."
"You mean the other six?" Starlion asked, voice low.
"Yes," Draven said with a sharp gaze. "They're just waiting for an opportunity to take my place. I could take some of them down easily, but there's one among them… he's dangerous."
Starlion nodded, absorbing the words. "I've fought the Queen of Runevale before. She's a force to be reckoned with, but if she had to fight you, it'll undoubtedly end in you victory." Starlion explained.
"Of course it would, after all, I'm the one with the initial 'B' in my name."
Draven hummed in thought. Then, his smirk widened.
"Right now, if I want to keep the Six in check," he said, voice dripping with amusement, "I'll have to use Majesty." His eyes glinted as he turned to leave.
"Make sure to treat her well."
Starlion couldn't tell what Draven was thinking or how he intended to use Majesty. He had been by his side for years, yet there were still moments when Draven felt like a complete mystery to him.
Meanwhile, inside her tent, Majesty lay still, her mind drifting. The weight of everything that had happened pressed down on her chest, then, a memory surfaced.
"Do you always cry every time I'm not around?"
A familiar voice snapped me out of my sadness.
I turned to see Michael effortlessly hopping in through my bedroom window, landing gracefully inside my room like he owned the place.
Quickly wiping my tears, I sat up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. This was when I was in Runevale.
Michael, completely ignoring my reaction, flopped onto my bed, spreading his arms and legs like a starfish. He buried his face in one of my pillows and sighed dramatically.
"Your bed is so big… and mmm… so soft." His words were muffled against the fabric.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed a pillow, throwing it at him. Without even looking, he caught it, still smothered in my pillow.
Annoyed, I grabbed another one and hurled it at him again. This time, he dodged.
"Stay still so I can hit you!" I huffed, frustration bubbling in my chest.
"Yes, my princess," he teased, still bouncing around like an overgrown child. Then, suddenly, he stopped. His lips curled into a mischievous grin.
"Oh, that reminds me—I brought you a gift."
I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn't trust that smile.
Michael stepped closer, holding a pillow in one hand while raising his other arm.
"Put your hand in my pocket and take it out," he said, his grin widening.
I hesitated. My gut told me no, but my curiosity got the best of me. Cautiously, I reached into his pocket and grabbed something. The moment I pulled it out and saw what it was, my heart nearly leaped out of my chest.
A fat, slimy toad.
A scream built up in my throat, but before I could let it out, Michael clamped the pillow over my mouth.
"Shh! Someone's going to hear us!" he whispered, barely holding back his laughter.
I froze, my entire body tense. When I calmed down enough for him to release me, he finally burst out laughing—loud, carefree, and utterly infuriating.
I didn't know what came over me, but at that moment, I wanted to strangle him.
I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the horror, but then Michael tilted his head and smirked.
"Oh… where's the toad, I wonder?" he mused.
My stomach dropped.
I frantically scanned the room, but the disgusting creature was nowhere to be found. My body went rigid.
Without thinking, I lunged at him, clinging onto his arm like my life depended on it.
Michael chuckled and effortlessly pushed me back onto the bed.
"When I found that toad, I knew if I scared you with it, your reaction would be priceless," he said, eyes glinting with amusement. "And I was right! Bwahaha!"
I glared at him, my fists clenched. I had known Michael since childhood. He was like an older brother to me—an insufferable, infuriating older brother.
"The toad is gone," he added, leaning in slightly, his voice dripping with mischief. "It could be under the bed for all we know."
A chill ran down my spine.