Kael left the dungeon with a thunderous silence, his tall frame cloaked in rage that simmered beneath the surface like a volcano on the verge of eruption. The carriage ride to Blackthorn House was silent, save for the rhythmic clatter of hooves. The dark, imposing mansion stood tall and proud at the heart of the estate, shadowed by its towering spires and gothic accents, casting eerie silhouettes in the waning afternoon sun.
Upon arrival, he stormed past the servants, waving off any pleasantries. His long coat trailed behind him like a storm cloud. He didn't stop until he reached the stone staircase that led to the old tower nestled at the back of the estate. The tower was his retreat—ancient, silent, and utterly secluded. He ascended the narrow winding stairs until he reached the final platform.
There, in the cool breeze, Kael took out a cigarette. With a flint spark, the tip glowed faintly. He inhaled deeply, savoring the icy hint of mint that filled his lungs, calming the fire in his chest. The land below sprawled in majestic quiet—forests, rivers, the distant city of Velmire. Yet none of it calmed the storm in his mind.
The prisoner had remained unresponsive. Even after the hours of psychological pressure and relentless questioning. Nothing. Not a single word. The silence taunted him.
Just as his thoughts spiraled deeper, a shadow flitted across his periphery. A crow landed elegantly on the stone ledge beside him. Kael turned slowly, observing the bird. Tied to its leg was a thin parchment scroll. With an eyebrow raised, he removed the letter and opened it.
The neat script was undoubtedly Lord Theron's:
***********************†***********************
"Kael,
By decree of the King and for the benefit of political unity between our kind and the humans, it has been decided that you are to wed a human maiden. The chosen girl is the daughter of Sir Marudas. The union must be accepted.
—Theron
P.S. Consider it an order. Not a request."
Kael let out a dry, humorless laugh. A human bride? Him? He crumpled the parchment, his fingers tightening around it until it tore slightly. He descended the stairs briskly, the cigarette now nothing but ashes on the wind.
Back in the mansion, he passed the butler, who bowed immediately. "My lord?"
"Fetch Kostas. Now. He's probably training in the west wing." Without another word, Kael strode into his study and waited.
Minutes later, a knock echoed from the door.
"Enter," Kael called, not lifting his eyes from the map splayed across his desk.
Kostas entered, dressed in a muted charcoal uniform, lean and efficient as always. "You called, Lord Blackthorn?"
"I need information," Kael said coldly. "Find out everything about Sir Marudas's daughter. The one they're shoving at me."
"Yes, my lord," Kostas replied with a slight bow, not asking why. He knew better.
Kael watched him leave, then stood up, walking through the mansion's long halls, lit by muted chandeliers. He nodded vaguely at a maid who curtsied as he passed, but didn't stop. At the end of the hall, he opened a heavy wooden door to a dimly lit chamber. The air was heavy with the scent of dried herbs and warmth. On the bed lay a girl—silent, unmoving. His eyes softened briefly, but he said nothing, just stared at the motionless figure before stepping out and closing the door behind him.
*****
Back in Velmire, Nerine returned home in a haze. The moment the door shut behind her, Madam Helen looked up from her chair, concern knitting her brows.
"Nerine, are you alright?" she asked, her voice gentle but firm.
Nerine gave a half-hearted smile and shrugged off her shawl. "I'm fine. Just tired."
Gracy peeked around the corner from the kitchen, drying her hands. "You didn't even tease Noah today. That's how we know something's wrong."
Nerine offered a tired chuckle but her eyes betrayed her turmoil. Elizabeth peeked from behind the stairs, clutching her new doll. "Did something bad happen, Nerine?"
She walked over and gave the girl a reassuring pat. "No, sweetheart. Just a long day."
Madam Helen rose from her seat and crossed the room slowly, placing a firm hand on Nerine's shoulder. "Come sit down. Eat something. Talk to us."
But Nerine pulled away gently, shaking her head. "I think I just need to sleep. I promise, I'm okay."
Her voice cracked slightly at the end.
Helen nodded but worry was written in every line of her face. "Alright. But we're here, Nerine. Whenever you're ready."
Nerine nodded and quietly made her way to her room, where she collapsed on her bed without even removing her boots. Her mind kept replaying Sir Marudas's voice, his veiled threats, and the memory of her mother.
Turning on the bed she couldn't clear her mind. She wanted to sit up on the bed when she heard footsteps coming towards her ... lying down back she covered herself with the quilt and pretended to be asleep.....still pretending she didn't know when she slept off.