Vince came to our residence after his father died.
His father had served mine for many years, and out of gratitude—or maybe guilt—my father took Vince in and gave him work.
He was only fifteen or sixteen when he arrived.
Young. Quiet.
But sharp, just like his father.
It didn't take long for him to earn my father's favor.
At first, he was just another face in the household.
We crossed paths now and then, but nothing important ever passed between us.
Nothing that stuck.
Then, when I turned nineteen, I asked my father if I could join the Royal Guard.
I expected a fight.
Instead, he agreed immediately.
And without any explanation, he said Vince would be joining the training too.
I never understood why.
I never asked.
Training began with the summer heat.
It was brutal.
A year and a half of sweat, bruises, exhaustion—and yet, somehow, we survived it.
Together, we earned the right to call ourselves Royal soldiers.
Through it all, I got to know him better.
He was kind.
Maybe too kind for the world we lived in.
After his first year as a soldier, Vince received his first real assignment:
an investigation into rumors of vampires in Hoza Village.
Meanwhile, I...
I was left to rot with petty tasks, assignments too simple for a child.
No matter what I did, no matter how hard I fought, they all saw the same thing:
not a soldier.
A Wingsfiel.
When I heard about Vince's mission, I saw my chance.
I forced him—yes, forced him—to request me as his partner.
A "joint operation," I called it.
An excuse to escape the suffocating walls of my home.
I didn't give him a choice.
I didn't think about what it might cost him.
And so we went to Hoza Village, pretending to be a newlywed couple.
The plan was simple: finish the mission, return home, and part ways.
But nothing went the way we planned.
Two months passed.
Nothing.
No vampires. No suspicious activity. No leads.
At the end of the third month, we agreed it was time to leave.
But before we could...
He was killed.
---
The carriage rumbled quietly as it neared Hoza Village.
Silence hung in the air after Elsa finished telling her story.
Then, she spoke again, her voice steady but low.
"Erik, now it's your turn. Tell me... what happened to Vince?"
Erik leaned back slightly, trying to gather the fragments of memory—those flashes he saw when he killed the Karken.
He let out a breath.
"Evin killed him," Erik said.
He could see it in Elsa's eyes—she wasn't surprised.
"I knew it, Erik…" she said, her hands balling into fists on her lap. "But... why? Why would Evin kill him?"
Erik thought back to the scene—the hatred, the obsession he felt radiating from that memory.
"Because of you," Erik said simply. "Evin wanted you. When he killed Vince, he told him exactly that. He said he knew you were a noble... and after killing Vince, he planned to come after you."
Elsa sat perfectly still, but Erik noticed it—the way her fingers trembled, the way her breath hitched slightly.
"That's all I needed to hear," she whispered.
She turned her face away from Erik, blinking fast.
But she wasn't done.
"Wait, Erik..." she said, her voice cracking slightly. "Then... what turned Ed into a Karken?"
Erik stared at her for a moment.
He didn't have to say it.
But he did.
"What do you think?" Erik asked quietly.
Elsa's eyes widened. Her entire body stiffened as the realization crashed down.
"No…" she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. She covered her mouth with a trembling hand.
Erik nodded grimly.
"Yeah. The only conclusion is—Vince actually loved you."