Night arrived and I accompanied Freyja before her departure. We walked side by side.
When we reached the carriage, she turned to face .
"I do hope you will fulfill my request, Loki," she said quite expectantly.
Her obsession with that woman's death hadn't wavered. The idea weighed heavily on -a woman marked for death without any clear reason. Yet, I had to do it for my mother.
"I have a certain wish..." I replied, keeping my words intentionally vague.
Her lips curved into a knowing smile. "I can see it written all over your face. You're hiding sothing from ."
I t her gaze, expecting anger or suspicion, but there was none. Freyja regarded with the sa unshaken confidence she always had, as if I could never truly harm her.
"I will grant you any wish you desire," she continued, her voice taking on a playful lilt, "except perhaps the privilege of sharing my bed, of course."
I grimaced instantly.
"You are indeed beautiful but that clearly wouldn't be enough to charm ."
"I wouldn't dare, Your Highness," I said curtly.
There was no way I was this desperate!
Why was she still confusing as a woman?!
"I assure you, I haven't entertained any improper thoughts toward Your Highness," I said again.
Freyja tilted her head, her amusent undiminished. "I doubt that," she said, her voice dropping as she reached out, her fingers brushing against my cheek. "I only hope you'll manage to satisfy ." Her words were low, almost a murmur, and their aning didn't really reach .
I frowned, unsure how to respond. Her smile, in contrast, only widened.
"Don't look so forlorn at our parting, Loki. Kill her, and I shall reward you appropriately. A reward from the most beautiful woman in the world-does that not excite you?"
I forced a smile, strained as it was. "Of course, Your Highness. I'm honored."
"By the way," I added quickly, hoping to shift the conversation, "could Your Highness keep my horse? I would rather not take it with into the chaos of war."
Freyja raised a brow, then turned to one of her knights. "Take his horse," she ordered with a flick of her wrist.
Before the knight could approach, I placed a hand on the horse's mane, stroking it gently. The animal closed its eyes, leaning into my touch with a soft huff.
Freyja's gaze softened, if only slightly. "It seems you've grown fond of my gift," she said.
"Indeed, and I remain grateful for it," I replied sincerely.
"You should be," Freyja smiled satisfied before stepping into the carriage. The door shut behind her with a quiet click, and the horses began to trot forward, taking Freyja away from Utopia-and from .
Be it Freyja or Alvara, both won seed to have more than a few screws loose. Twisted in their own peculiar ways, they mirrored each other disturbingly well. If I had to label it, Alvara was the human version of Freyja in so ways. It wouldn't be surprising to consider them as sisters even.
Stifling a yawn, I made my way back inside the towering structure of Utopia, where I had been granted a room. It was an odd privilege for soone like , but such were the perks of being Freyja Ruvelion's so-called guard. She had insisted on it, of course. Her generosity felt more like a gilded cage than genuine kindness. Freyja had a habit of pampering ―lavish als, fine quarters, and an unspoken air of favoritism. Yet I wasn't blind. I knew she sought to add to her collection of treasures, a pawn among her possessions. That knowledge kept on edge.
...
...
The following morning, I woke early-not out of discipline, but because I could hardly get sleep recently. That damn Sin of Sloth was still there, its lingering effects clawing at the edges of my sanity.
After dragging myself out of bed, I showered, letting the water wash away the weariness that clung to . Refreshed but still burdened, I stood before the mirror, my hand reaching instinctively for Bryelle's pendant.
With a quiet click, I removed it.
The disguise wore off imdiately. My hair lengthened, cascading in snowy-white waves down my back. My fabricated elven ears vanished, and my amber eyes stared back at from the mirror.
I grimaced at the sight before .
A thick, curving scar ran jaggedly from my abdon, up my chest, and across to the side of my neck, barely brushing the edge of my chin. The wound had long since healed, but its mark was permanent.
I brushed my fingers along the marred skin. The mory of his attack still lingered vividly in my mind.
Perhaps Maria could remove it one day, after ascending to her position as the Saintess. If anyone could undo the damage caused by a sin, it would be her-or maybe Seraphina, depending on who ultimately claid the title of Saintess of Eden.
For now, it didn't matter.
This scar and by the way all the other scars decorating my body could wait.
It was just yet another thing to deal with once the Second Ga ca to an end.
Placing the pendant back around my neck, I felt the familiar hum of its spell as my disguise reactivated. With a sigh, I adjusted my appearance one last ti, then dressed in a fresh set of clothes before stepping out of my room.
Since learning that Durathiel wasn't in Utopia, I'd been able to relax-if only slightly. His absence was a small comfort, though it left questioning his whereabouts. He wasn't in Sancta Vedelia either, and that was a troubling mystery. Still, his lowered vigilance worked in my favor, so I chose not to overthink it.
As I walked through the corridor, tying my hair back into a neat ponytail, a scoff escaped . Durathiel's confidence in his eventual victory was too obvious, and for good reason. He wielded that damn Sin, after all. It was hard to imagine him being defeated.
And yet, he had been.
The details ca flooding back to , fragnts of the Ga's history etched into my mory. If I recalled correctly, it was only thanks to Victor, being the Apostle of Nihil, and Cylien, the Prophetess, that they managed to bring him down. With the Holy Tree lending its aid, they sohow overca the odds and beat him.
But Victor wasn't the Apostle of Nihil yet, at least not in this tiline. Could it be only a matter of ti?
I wasn't sure anymore about the Apostle of Nihil and I think I didn't care anymore. When I arrived in Sancta Vedelia nearly a year ago, my sole focus had been becoming Nihil's Apostle. It had seed like the only path forward. But now... I wasn't so sure.
My priorities had shifted.
There were other ways to sever Annabelle and Samara's cursed connection with and grant them new lives. My desire to beco the Apostle was no longer born from ambition, but necessity—a ans to free them from their chains. Gaining influence and perhaps even a blessing from Nihil had been part of the plan, but it wasn't the crux of my goal anymore.
Their happiness was.
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