POV: Ezrel Dormir
There is a clear tension in his room. It's not peaceful. Not the silence he wanted.
It's more like something still. Unmoved.
Like a breath that is being held, it refuses to be released.
Ezrel sat at the edge of his bed, fully dressed. His sleeves were neat. His collar crisp. But his fingers curled slowly, again and again, into the sheets beneath him. His red cheeks look like they have just been kissed by a monkey.
There was no sound but the fabric resisting.
He had not slept.
And yet he was not tired.
He only remembers..
---
He could still feel her.
Lysette.
His sister.
Her warmth lingered like a fever dream on his skin, sticking to his back, her breath folded into his pillow.
He had not touched her.
He had not looked.
But he knows she had been there.
And that was enough to change him.
Enough to cause something within him to change.
Not because of desire.
But because something else was beginning to speak and affect him. Maybe his personality has already changed in this world.
He stared at his hand, now still, and imagined what might happen if he let the feeling win.
Thinking of it...
He left the room without a word.
The hall was cold, touched by moonlight.
A maid glanced up from polishing the stair rail and immediately bowed her head so low it nearly touched the floor.
She did not speak.
No one ever spoke when he walked like this.
His bare feet made no sound on the marble. His robe swayed like a shadow.
He passed Lysette's door. And go straight to the outside of the house.
---
The clock in the west study had no hands.
But it ticked anyway.
He stood before it for a moment, watching nothing move.
Yet it spoke to him in rhythm. Softly. Mocking.
Click.
Click.
Click.
"You are becoming something else," there was a voice whispering.. Whether it was the god or his mind, he didn't know.
Maybe it was a ghost.
Hearing it he whispered back. While getting back into his room after taking five underneath the moonlight.
"Then let it be somewhere else. Something that will not make me regret."
---
During the day, he pretends like nothing changes. He made and did his usual routine.
No one suspects anything.
----
Now, it's already night.
His parents and sister had already fallen asleep.
He takes this chance to do something plain.
A cloak. A dull tunic. A hood was pulled over his head.
He left through the rear garden. The maid noticed him but didn't care.
There is no escort. No guard. No sister.
No one is following him.
He goes to the stable and asks the maid to prepare a ride for him.
They prepared it in a hurry, but no questions were asked. Just following the order from their young master.
The carriage ride was uneventful. He said no words. The driver didn't ask any.
They entered the city.
Not through the noble quarter.
But through the winding alleys of the merchant ward.
There, tucked behind red-covered brick, was a place few noble sons acknowledged but many quietly funded.
Velvet Mist.
The most special places in this city.
The lanterns are always lit. The scent of musk and dried flowers floated through the heavy air.
Ezrel stepped through the entrance.
The madam looked up from her ledger.
She froze.
Not from recognition.
But from something deeper.
The way his presence folded the room. Like time itself had paused to regard him.
"...My lord?"
He shook his head. No title. No weight. He doesn't want anyone to know his presence here.
"I need someone who won't ask me why."
---
She led him to a quiet room upstairs. A private room where no one other than her can enter.
A girl already waited inside.
Not beautiful in a noble sense. But her eyes held no judgment. No curiosity. No fear.
She looks young. Maybe just in her 19. Black hair that has been styled with a ponytail and small breasts. Maybe around a C cup.
Ezrel stood in the doorway a moment longer.
The girl said nothing. Just rose and waited.
He walked in. Sat at the edge of the bed.
His cloak fell to the floor.
He didn't meet her gaze.
Only said.
"Don't touch me yet," he said with a low voice that shows he is trying to increase his determination.
She nodded.
Waited.
He took a slow breath.
" Now hug me, I just need to forget the warmth that shouldn't exist. Something that can replace it."
---
Outside, the bells of the capital rang softly.
And behind the heavy curtain of the brothel room, Ezrel closed his eyes.
He did not smile.
He did not flinch.
He only breathed.
Like a man waiting for the madness to pass.
Or settle.
Or finally break.
---