Leaning against the wall outside the room, I folded my arms and let my gaze drift aimlessly down the corridor. The muffled voices beyond the door were indistinct, an irritating barrier to my curiosity. My frown deepened as I pressed my ear to the door, hoping to catch even a hint of the conversation inside.
But no luck.
The sounds were faint-almost nonexistent.
Was this room soundproofed?
Frustrated, I tried again, leaning closer this ti, straining to pick up sothing, anything, when suddenly the door creaked open. A jolt of surprise shot through as the door pushed against my weight, resisting slightly before I stepped back.
Shuria stood there, frad by the doorway. Her sharp eyes imdiately locked onto , and her lips curled into a barely concealed scowl. She didn't speak, but the silent accusation in her gaze spoke volus.
Caught so close to the door, I froze for a mont, unsure of how to explain myself. Before I could say anything, she closed the door behind her with an audible click and stepped away, keeping her distance.
Damn, this was embarrassing.
She stood there, just a few steps away.
An awkward silence stretched between us, growing heavier with each passing second. My nerves prickled under her stare. This was unbearable.
I turned on my heel and walked away, unwilling to stay under the scrutiny of her gaze any longer. Even as I moved down the hall, I could feel her eyes boring into my back, cold and distrustful.
She doesn't trust . Not one bit.
And yet, I'd be spending the next few days around her. Wonderful. This was going to be a minefield, and I would need to tread carefully. One wrong step could spell disaster.
I reached the elevator and stepped inside, pressing the button for the ground floor.
Let's just wait outside. Freyja will leave eventually.
The thought offered little comfort. Without Freyja's presence, her status wouldn't shield from suspicion. I'd be completely exposed, every move scrutinized. If anyone realized I was getting this close to her, they'd whisk her away before I had a chance to act.
My fingers curled into fists as the elevator descended. I had to be careful-ticulous. A single slip could ruin everything.
The elevator jolted to a stop, but not on the ground floor. Soone else was boarding.
I stepped back instinctively, making room as the doors slid open. A figure entered, followed by a really nice scent.
A glance told it was Alvara. She stepped inside and stood silently.
Whatever.
It didn't matter.
I had more pressing things to-
||||
Huh?
My breath hitched, and my eyes snapped back to the figure in front of .
That hair. That unmistakable shade. And the air of smug superiority that radiated from her as if she was superior to everything.
There was only one person who could exude such an aura of arrogance and disdain, like they had a personal vendetta against the concept of equality itself.
Alvara?
What the hell was she doing here?
The elevator doors were just about to close when I lunged forward, thrusting my hand between them. The sleek tallic panels halted, hissing softly as they slid open once more.
Alvara stood there, a vision of haughty disdain, her golden eyes narrowing at with an almost venomous disinterest.
Yeah, it was definitely her.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked, shocked.
"Hah?" Alvara raised a perfectly arched brow, her annoyance flaring visibly. "Who do you think you are to question ?"
Right.
I was still disguised.
I couldn't let her see my real face-not here.
Her eyes raked over from head to toe, a sneer curling her lips. Then, with indifference, she pressed the button to close the elevator doors again.
What was that look?!
Before the doors could seal shut, I thrust my hand forward once more, stopping them.
"Do you want to die, High Elf?"
"Listen . Look carefully." I yanked Bryelle's pendant from beneath my cloak, letting it catch the light. "I'm disguised, so-ugh!"
Before I could finish, Alvara's hand shot out like a striking snake. Her slender gloved fingers curled around the pendant's chain, yanking forward with surprising strength. My face smacked against the elevator fra, and the chain dug painfully into my neck.
"Where did you get this?" she asked with a murderous whisper.
"From Bryelle," I choked out, my hands braced against the elevator walls as I struggled for balance. "Now, let go!"
"From Bryelle?" Her head tilted slightly, a motion that sohow made her even more nacing. "You expect to believe that? You'd better start explaining what you did to her, or I'll rip your organs out through your rectal orifice and force you to watch as I feed them to
you."
Shivers ran down my spine at her words.
Was this how an Elven Princess was supposed to speak?
"You don't care?" Alvara spat, disgust curling her lip. "You must be so sort of masochist to want to die in such a grotesque way."
As she spoke, a golden vine slithered into existence, writhing with thorns that glinted ominously in the dim elevator light. It coiled just inches from my face, radiating a quiet,
lethal intent.
"Not that crap again!" I groaned.
Her eyes narrowed, and for a mont, she simply stared at , her gaze piercing. After a mont, her expression darkened further as realization seed to dawn on her.
"Amael Idea Olphean.".
I froze, my blood running cold.
How?
How the hell had she figured it out?
"It's you, isn't it?" Alvara said, her voice dripping with annoyance.
"How...?"
"It wasn't enough for you to stalk in Ashenor-you had to follow all the way to Utopia?" Alvara's voice dripped with sarcasm, her golden eyes narrowing as she tightened her
grip on the pendant.
"Like hell! What are you doing here to begin with?" I shot back, glaring at her.
She didn't answer imdiately. Instead, she turned on her heel and dragged forward, the
pendant still clenched tightly in her hand.
Who am I?! Your pet?!
"Let go of !" I groaned, tugging against her grip.
"Unless you want to tear it apart, you'll keep your hands to yourself," she snapped.
Damn it.
Her iron grip gave no choice but to stumble along as she hauled down the hall. Eventually, we reached a door. With a swift, almost lazy kick, Alvara swung it open and
stepped inside, pulling in after her.
Finally, she let go.
I staggered back, rubbing the ache in my neck as I shot her a glare. She ignored it entirely, moving to an armchair in the center of the room. With grace, she sank into the seat, crossed one long leg over the other, and fixed with a stare, waiting for to speak.
"I found the pendant on the ground," I said quickly, opting for the simplest explanation. "She
probably dropped it."
"Let's say I will believe this pathetic lie of yours. What are you doing here?" Alvara asked.
"My mother is being held in Elyen Kiora," I replied. "I'm infiltrating as Freyja's bodyguard to
save her."
Alvara raised a delicate eyebrow, her expression shifting to one of faint amusent. "Interesting. But tell why are you cross-dressing? Is that a hobby of yours?" "Like hell it is!" I groaned. "It's a damn misunderstanding. Everyone here thinks I'm a
woman!"
Alvara grimaced, a faint sneer curling her lips. "A woman? You?" She leaned back in her chair, eyeing with sothing close to pity. "You reek of a man from miles away."
"What?" I blinked, dumbfounded. "You knew I was a man?"
How?
Even Freyja and Elashor had fallen for the act. Did she have so kind of sixth sense for this?
"Only a blind person-or soone with very peculiar tastes-would mistake you for a woman," Alvara scoffed, her golden eyes flashing with amusent.
"Let's drop this topic," I snapped back, annoyed. "Now, you explain. What are you doing
here? I thought after everything I said—and what they did to Bryelle-you'd be busy burning
High Elves and Behemoths alive while laughing."
Alvara grimaced. "Who do you take for?"
"A sadist, racist, supremacist woman with a severe case of galomania and a hobby of
burning people alive," I retorted.
She stared at , unblinking, for a long, tense mont before leaning back in her chair. "You
seem to know quite a bit about ."
"You're not denying it?!" I was speechless.
"Why should I?" Alvara replied, looking at as if I was the weirdo here.
"Whatever," I muttered, waving it off. "So what are you doing here?"
"I don't owe you that explanation," she replied curtly.
I bit back a childish response about fairness-sothing about having shared my reason already-and instead scrutinized her in silence. The answer ca to almost imdiately.
"You're planning to kill Durathiel."
"Planning to?" Alvara scoffed, leaning forward. "I will kill him."
"You can't kill him," I replied.
Her golden eyes narrowed dangerously, but I t her gaze head-on. "Don't look at like
that. I'm just being honest."
Durathiel was not so ordinary opponent-he was a Sin Holder.
"You'd stand a better chance going back to Vanadias, beating up your dumb older brother,
freeing your mother, and hiding sowhere safe with Bryelle."
I laid out the scenario as plainly as I could, hoping to get through to her. Her not taking part in
the war might be the best solution to avoid her getting crazy like in the Ga.
But my words only seed to ignite her anger.
Alvara sprang from her chair and glared at . "Don't treat like a coward. I will kill that
filth for what he's done to Bryelle."
"And if you fail?" I countered, keeping my voice calm despite the heat in her words. "Which is
a very real possibility. Who's going to take care of Bryelle then? Your idiot older brother? He'll either be buried or locked up after the war."
"Allen will," she snapped. "Allen?" I nearly choked on my laughter. "He's probably busy assaulting so poor woman
as we speak."
"Shut it."
-Thud!
Our quarrel was cut short as the door swung open with a sharp creak, and soone stord
into the room.
It was Lykhor.
That bootlicking traitor. He was still clinging to Alvara like a leech, always eager to grovel at
her feet.
"Who are you?!" Lykhor barked suspiciously.
I raised my badge, the emblem of the Ruvelion House gleaming. "Princess Freya Ruvelion's personal guard."
"What are you doing here?" Lykhor asked still wary.
"I was transmitting a ssage to Her Highness," I replied. "Which I've done. I'll be taking my
leave now."
Without waiting for another interrogation, I turned on my heel and strode toward the door, determined to leave before this exchange attracted more attention than it needed.
I could feel Lykhor's gaze drilling into my back, suspicious and lingering, before he turned to
address Alvara. "Alvara-"
-BAM!
Before he could finish his sentence, a sudden force slamd into him, propelling him
backward. I quickly sidestepped and his body crashed against the corridor wall with a
deafening thud.
Watching this, I struggled to contain my laughter. The sight of Lykhor crumpled against the
wall like a rag doll was simply too satisfying.
But my amusent was short-lived. A sharp glare from inside the room-Alvara's golden
eyes burning with irritation-imdiately wiped the smirk from my face.
I sneered back at her. "Have a nice day, 'Your Highness'."
-THUD!
The door slamd shut in front of , the force of it nearly brushing my nose.
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