Chapter 12
Roxana
Sleep had completely eluded me. I spent the whole night staring at the ceiling, watching the pale blue light of dawn creep slowly across the unfamiliar walls.
This heaviness in my heart, it wouldn't go away. Every time I closed my eyes— I heard it— the shattering glass, the muffled yelling, the sound of Zero breaking down. I haven't even seen him smile yet, but I already knew what he looked like when he cried. Like he was a child stuck in the body of a young man.
A soft knock broke my reverie.
"Roxana? Breakfast is ready," Kieran's voice floated gently through the door, steady and calm like he always was, despite the times when he and Zero were at each other's throats like mulling teenagers.
I rubbed my eyes and pushed myself up, the weight of the night heavy on my limbs. My muscles ached from tossing and turning, and the knot in my chest refused to loosen. I pulled on my clothes slowly, every movement mechanical, as if my body was still trapped in the restless night.
Downstairs, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wove through the house, mingling with the faint hum of the early morning quiet. I stepped into the dining room and froze.
Zero was already there. Sitting at the grand wooden table, legs crossed, with a chipped ceramic mug clasped between his fingers. He took slow sips, as if last night's storm of emotions had been nothing more than a bad dream he's already pushed away. His messy black hair fell into his eyes, but I caught a glimpse of that usual scowl softened by exhaustion.
Our eyes met for a brief second, and I felt a familiar tug of caution. I wanted to ask if he was okay. To reach across the table and break the wall between us. But the fear that I would reopen his wounds he desperately tried to bury would resurface again. So instead, I settled into the chair opposite to him, careful to keep my expression neutral.
Kieran walked over to me and handed me a hardy breakfast of toast, bacon and eggs. My mouth watered before I started digging in.
I heard a faint chuckle. I looked up to see Zero with his lips pursed to his mug, the corner of his mouth tugged upward.
"What's so funny?" I said, narrowing my eyes.
That's when he leaned forward and used his thumb to wipe the egg yolk that dripped to my chin and slyly slipped it into his mouth. "For a noble lady, you have the appetite of a savaged man."
I could feel my cheeks heat and I roused from my seat, butter knife in hand. "How dare you compare me to a man!" I didn't know which I was flustered by more. His arrogant comment or how he used my face to feast himself.
Zero only smirked, completely unfazed by my threat. His dark eyes—still heavy with exhaustion—glinted with faint amusement as he took another sip of coffee. "Relax, princess. If you're going to survive here, you better grow thicker skin."
I clenched the butter knife tighter, the heat still burning across my cheeks. "Call me that again, and I'll carve your name into the toast."
Kieran snorted, completely unbothered as he passed by, setting his own mug down. "Careful, kid," he warned Zero, ruffling his messy black hair in passing.
Zero swatted Kieran's hand away, scowling. "Tch. Don't you have somewhere to be, old man?"
Kieran only grinned wider. "Nope. Watching you two awkwardly bond is my entertainment for the day." He disappeared into the kitchen, humming under his breath.
I poked at my eggs, finally managing to push past the awkward heat still crawling up my cheeks. My eyes flicked to Zero, his chipped mug still clasped between his fingers as he drained the last of his coffee.
"Is that really all you're having?" I asked, arching a brow. "You can't live off caffeine."
He set the mug down with a faint clink, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah? Watch me." His voice still rasped with the weight of exhaustion, but there was a familiar edge of sarcasm laced through it. "Not much of a morning person. Caffeine's the only thing keeping me vertical most days."
Kieran strolled by with another cup, snorting under his breath. "That and spite."
Zero ignored him, pushing to his feet and stretching with a groan that spoke volumes about how little sleep he got. His eyes flicked toward me, all sharp lines and quiet challenge. "You done?"
I set my fork down, wiping my mouth. "Done with breakfast, or done being insulted before 7 in the morning?"
"Both," he quipped, already turning toward the door. "Hurry up. You're coming with me."
I stood, blinking in confusion. "Wait, we're heading to school already? It's still early."
Zero snorted, fixing his Dusker's badge on his lapel. "Please. You think I'm that eager to drag myself into that hellhole after skipping most of yesterday? Ellis is probably foaming at the mouth waiting to yell at me."
I frowned, following him into the hall. "Then where—"
"I've got an errand to run," he cut in, glancing back over his shoulder. His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. "And I can't leave you alone. So, congratulations, you're tagging along."
I opened my mouth to protest but shut it just as fast. Something told me there was no point arguing with him—not when he looked this determined, exhaustion or not.
Kieran's voice floated in from the kitchen, far too amused. "Have fun, lovebirds."
Zero groaned under his breath, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stomped toward the door. "Lovebirds my ass! She's not even my type!"
"Well, you're not my type either you big jerk!" I crossed my arms, but I could have sworn I saw the tips of his ears turn red.
We headed out the door, arguing like we usually do. At first his annoying, teasing comments irritated me, but now, I couldn't have expected less from him. This was the version of Zero that was slowly, but begrudgingly, growing on me.
***
The streets of Solaria bustled with life. Merchants shouted over each other, shoving baskets of ripe fruit or woven fabrics toward passersby, their voices tangling in a sea of noise. The scent of spices, bread, and smoke drifted through the air, mingling with the faint hum of enchantments hanging above shop signs.
I trailed behind Zero, eyes wide as I took everything in—the chaos, the color, the way the city seemed alive in ways the Vatican halls never were.
So distracted by the scenery, I didn't notice Zero stop until I walked straight into his back.
"Ow—seriously?" I winced, rubbing my nose. "What's the hold-up?"
Zero tilted his head toward a narrow storefront tucked between towering buildings. The windows gleamed with faint runes etched into the glass, blades and strange tools displayed behind them. Above the door, an engraved silver sign read: Lunaris Smithery—Weaponry and Arcane Maintenance.
I raised a brow. "A smithery?"
"Not just any smithery," Zero muttered, already pushing the door open. "Come on."
The soft chime of a bell echoed as we stepped inside. The smell hit me immediately— warm metal, polished wood, and the faint, sharp tang of magic lingering in the air.
Before I could fully process the place, movement caught my eye—a blur of crimson and pale lavender.
She practically floated across the shop floor—long lavender hair falling in glossy waves past her shoulders, eyes deep like shining blue amethysts.
Her eyes lit up the moment she spotted Zero, and without hesitation, she darted from behind the counter and flung her arms around him. Her gown shimmered like liquid crimson, the delicate white lace at the sleeves sharp as snow against her skin. A black ribbon hugged her throat, drawing attention to the sharp angles of her face—and the faint, undeniable point to her ears.
Beautiful didn't even cover it. She looked she was carved from a stone statue placed in a museum for masterpieces.
I blinked, mouth parting in shock. What surprised me more was that… Zero didn't shove her away. In fact, his arms wrapped around her in return, pulling her close in a rare, genuine gesture of familiarity.
Something twisted in my stomach, sharp and unfamiliar. I told myself it wasn't jealousy—but my clenched fists said otherwise.
Finally, Zero pulled back, resting his hand on the top of her head with an exasperated sigh. "Lenora," he greeted flatly, though I caught the faint softness hidden beneath the irritation.
The girl—Lenora— beamed up at him, completely ignoring me for a moment.
Zero jerked his head in my direction. "Roxana, meet Lenora. She's been running this place for, what—fifty years now?"
My jaw practically hit the floor. "She doesn't even look twenty."
Lenora laughed—a soft, lilting sound as she turned to face me properly, dipping into an elegant curtsy. "I'm a vampire, darling. Looks can be deceiving. In vampire years, I'm practically a teenager." She said with a cute tilt of her head and a charming smile that could even attract me.
I stiffened, eyes flicking between her and Zero. "A… vampire?"
Zero's expression darkened slightly, but his tone remained even. "Not all vampires follow the pureblood traditions. Some of them… the smart ones… renounce that garbage and work with the Empire."
Lenora straightened, smoothing the folds of her gown with eloquent grace. "Those of us who pledge loyalty are allowed to stay. Refugees, if you will. I'm one of the good ones, promise." She flashed a grin—just wide enough to reveal a glimpse of fangs.
"Lenora's an important friend," Zero added, reluctantly.
Lenora smirked, tilting her head toward him with teasing warmth. "Important, huh? Careful, darling, you'll make me blush."
Zero groaned under his breath but didn't argue.
I crossed my arms, the knot in my chest tightening as I struggled to look away from her. The jealousy simmered low beneath my skin, whether I wanted it there or not.
"It's been ages since you last visited," Lenora teased, ignoring the way Zero practically recoiled. "I was starting to think you forgot about me."
Zero huffed under his breath, adjusting his shirt like her touch physically burned him. "Didn't come here for social hour."
His hand moved to his hip, drawing his sword free from its sheath. The moment the blade caught the faint shop light, I noticed the damage—the ancient engravings along the steel were blackened, as if rotted from within, veins of sickly shadow creeping across the surface.
Zero held the weapon out, regret written all over his face. "On instinct… I used that magic." His fingers tightened along the hilt, his jaw clenching with barely restrained frustration. "Now the blade's sick."
Lenora's teasing faded, her eyes sharpening as she took the sword from him with unexpected care. Her fingers traced along the corrupted lines, her mouth pressing into a thin line.
"You idiot," she scolded quietly, flicking a glance up at him. "You of all people should know better. A sword isn't just a tool—it reflects its master. Their soul, their intentions, their mistakes."
I shifted, uneasy as I listened, the words heavy with meaning I couldn't yet piece together.
Lenora's gaze lingered on the blackened metal. "It's been a while since I've seen corruption like this. You're lucky it's contained… for now."
Zero didn't reply, only staring past her, the tension in his frame unyielding.
With a final glance at both of us, Lenora turned toward the velvet curtains at the back of the shop. "Wait here. It won't take long. Even with my endless customers…" Her eyes sparkled, lips curling into a smirk, "You'll always be my number one."
Zero rolled his eyes, visibly resisting the urge to correct her, but said nothing as she slipped behind the curtains, leaving us in silence.
The shop settled into quiet once Lenora disappeared behind the velvet curtains, leaving me and Zero alone amid gleaming weapons and the faint hum of magic in the air.
I fumbled with my thumbs, twisting them over each other, nerves coiling every fiber of my being. The questions I'd buried since yesterday clawed at me, ready to burst free—the dark flames, the magic, the way everyone whispered evil when they spoke of him. Now his blade was sick… corrupted, like him.
I couldn't hold it in any longer.
"You said you used… that magic," I blurted, my voice sharper than intended. I hesitated, forcing my gaze to meet his. "I don't know much about this world yet. But I can't lie, you scared me yesterday. I thought—" I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I thought you were actually going to kill him."
Zero scoffed, turning away, his leg bouncing anxiously as he stared at the floor. "You and everyone else," he muttered, voice tight. "Why do you care all of a sudden?"
The way he dismissed it—the way he dismissed me—irritation sparked hot under my skin. I didn't even think before leaning in, grabbing him by the face, forcing him to look at me.
"Because I deserve to know, don't I?" I snapped, ignoring how my heart stuttered at our closeness. His eyes widened, startled, but I pressed on. "You're my bodyguard. If you're carrying dangerous secrets, I need to know what I'm dealing with."
Zero gulped, leaning back, visibly uncomfortable with the space—or lack of it—between us. His shoulders sagged as he sighed, rubbing his face with both hands.
"I guess… you have the right to know that much," he muttered, voice quieter now, almost fragile beneath the usual bite. "Let's just say… I'm cursed."
I frowned. "Cursed?"
He nodded, eyes distant, fixed on some unseen place only he could see. "Unlike other magic users, I can't channel the light. No healing, no radiant shields, nothing. My magic… it's all darkness." His jaw clenched. "Take what happened yesterday for example. When I lose control… when I lose myself, this heat builds inside me." His fingers flexed in his lap as if feeling the burn even now. "It lashes out—black flames that don't stop until everything's ashes."
I stared, stunned by the raw honesty—the weight of it.
What a terrible, powerful thing to live with.
Zero's voice dropped, quiet and bitter. "It's like the goddess Solana never wanted me," he muttered, voice cracking faintly under the words. His eyes darkened, shadow pooling beneath his lashes. "The others—they're chosen. I'm… a mistake."
I opened my mouth, unsure what to say—how to even argue with that—but Zero spoke first, his gaze sharpening with quiet resolve.
"But none of that matters," he hissed, fingers curling tight into fists. "Whether I'm cursed or not… I'll still wipe out every last monster with this darkness. If that's what it takes."
Before I could respond, the velvet curtains swayed open. Lenora returned, cradling his sword, the once-blackened engravings gleaming silver and clean once more.
"All done," she announced, her voice cheery but her eyes flicking between us, sensing the tension. "But seriously, Zero, be careful with that corruption. You're lucky it didn't spread further."
She tilted her head, her smile easy but her eyes sharp. "Did I miss something important? Or just another one of your brooding monologues?"
Zero stood, fishing a pouch of gold from his pocket, tossing it onto the counter with an extra tip. His expression was unreadable, his voice low.
"You didn't miss anything," he replied, turning toward the door. "Nothing important anyway."
Without another word, he strode out, his grip on his sword white-knuckled.
I scrambled to my feet, offering Lenora an apologetic smile. "Thanks for fixing his sword… maybe next time we can hang out? Tea or something?"
Lenora's eyes sparkled knowingly. "I'd like that."
I hurried after Zero, my gaze drawn to his tense shoulders, the way his hand hovered near his weapon like a shield.
I had him all wrong, I realized, my chest tightening with the thought.
Just like me—burdened by prophecy, tangled in fate—Zero carried the weight of an unwanted destiny. But unlike me, he faced the world by turning his back on it, believing distance was the only way to keep it safe.
And that… that was the saddest thing of all.
But I wouldn't let him feel alone forever—not if I could help it.