——- Nereus and Loryn
He followed her like a shadow.
Nereus never needed sight to know where Loryn was — her steps echoed differently, and her scent carried something… warm.
No matter how silently she moved, he always found her.
He executed every task she assigned with unnerving precision.
Organizing weapons? Perfectly aligned.
Delivering verbal messages? Repeated word for word, down to the pauses.
It made the others uneasy.
"Is he really blind?" one knight muttered.
"No. He's faking it. A cunning thief who wormed his way into her trust."
The whispers worsened.
"He's like a dog. Always behind her."
"He's not one of us."
But Nereus only smiled — quiet, gentle, unfazed.
Until night fell.
Alone in his dim room, he sat on the floor, back hunched, breathing shallow.
He slowly unbuttoned his sleeve, revealing pale skin… then hissed.
Black veins.
Like twisting roots beneath the surface, spreading from his wrist up his arm. Pulsing.
He touched his chest, trembling fingers tracing the skin over his heart.
And he whispered, teeth clenched:
"It's eating me… ."
The curse was growing.
⸻
Within the royal wing, deep inside the palace, Sera sat in the private library of Prince Illarious.
Stacks of books surrounded her.
"Fabric Trade in the South… ugh."
"Currency History in Thorn Kingdom? Seriously?"
She slammed the book shut.
"This is torture…"
Bored, she wandered the halls, trailing her fingers along ancient stone carvings and tapestries older than any she'd seen.
Strange portraits lined the walls — some eyeless, others cracked or half-burned.
Suddenly, the large doors creaked open.
A butler bowed with grace.
"Lord Zane. Lady Natalie. Please, come in."
The first to enter was Zane — long blond hair, golden eyes, and a serene expression.
He did not speak. He simply smiled. Calm. Unmoving. Like a dream, or a statue.
Beside him walked Natalie, a girl with flowing brown hair and sharp blue eyes.
She stopped when she saw Sera.
Her brows knit in disdain.
"And you are? You don't look noble… Are you a maid?"
"Sera's eyes met hers—blank, uncaring .
"And you? Who exactly are you?"
Natalie narrowed her eyes.
"…Are you his lover?"
Sera laughed aloud:
"I'd rather die!"
A calm voice echoed from above.
From the grand staircase that curved down into the hall, stood Illarious, leaning casually on the railing, a folding fan half-hiding his smile.
"Zane, Natalie~ Welcome."
He descended slowly, every step graceful.
"She's my attendant, Sery~"
Sera turned sharply.
"Attendant?! I am no one's attendant!"
Illarious only smiled wider.
"Oh? But you read what I ask, live under my roof… roam my library… Who allowed all that?"
"I'm just a pampered prisoner!" she snapped.
"Such harsh words…" he murmured, snapping open his feathered fan with a flourish.
Natalie stepped forward, furious.
"You lowborn wretch! Do you know who you're talking to?! He's Prince Illar—"
Sera raised a hand, waving lazily.
"Yes yes, blah blah blah… I'm sick of titles."
Zane smiled a little more.
Illarious glanced between them and chuckled under his breath.
"This… will be entertaining."
⸻