The morning in the Northwest was crisp, Inside the castle, Zaliyah leaned over his daughter, his nimble fingers adjusting the collar of her school uniform. He noticed the way she bounced on the balls of her feet, her hair swaying up.
"You're quite the morning person today," Zaliyah noted, arching a brow. "What is making you so happy for school? Usually, I have to drag you to the carriage by your ears."
Sylaris had initially loathed the idea of mingling with the other children. She had called them "noisy meat-sacks" and "uninteresting," preferring the company of Xulthas's grimoires or Harun's training dummies.
"They replaced the male tutor," Sylaris chirped, her eyes shining with triumph. "The new one is a lady. She smells like lavender instead of old beast cheese, and she doesn't yell when I use my magic to sharpen my pencils. I like studying again."
Zaliyah smoothed down her furs, his gaze softening before turning serious. "And the other children? Tell me the truth, Sylaris are you being bullied?"
Sylaris stopped bouncing. She stood tall, puffing out her chest and flexing her small, chunky arm muscles. "Me? Bullied? Dada, I'm the one doing the bullying. Yesterday, a boy tried to take my seat. Now he sits in the back and doesn't make eye contact."
Zaliyah rolled his eyes, a mixture of pride and exasperation swirling in his chest. "I should have known. Try to keep the casualties to a minimum, warrior."
The doors creaked open, and Harun stepped into the room, his armor polished to a mirror sheen. "Your Highness, are we all set? The carriage is waiting, and the snow is starting to pack."
Sylaris looked behind Harun, her blue eyes searching the hallway. "Where is Auntie Iruna? Why isn't she here to see me off?"
Harun offered her a gentle smile. "Your aunt is a little busy with border matters today, little one. But she promised she'll be the one to pick you up when the bells ring."
Sylaris's lip curled into a sneer. "Lies! All lies! She is not busy with any matters , She's busy with Thalassa!"
The air in the room went cold. Zaliyah's voice cracked like a whip. "SYLARIS!"
The girl didn't flinch. Instead, she mirrored her father's attitude, rolling her eyes.
"Oh, no you didn't," Zaliyah hissed. He began to stride toward her, his hand raised to deliver a sharp pop to those chubby, defiant hands, but Harun's hand shot out, catching Zaliyah's wrist in a firm but respectful grip.
"Your Highness, please," Harun murmured, holding him back. "She's just a child. A spirited one, but a child nonetheless."
Zaliyah exhaled a frustrated breath, his eyes still fixed on his daughter. "Even Riru, who was a nightmare of a child, wasn't this bad. At least she had the decency to be sneaky about her mischief."
Sylaris pouted, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "And who's Riru?"
Zaliyah went rigid for a split second, the name of his sister acting like a needle to his heart. He shook the memory away. "Nobody. Come on, we're going to be late."
The walk to the carriage was a battle of wills.
"Get in," Zaliyah commanded, pointing to the open door of the carriage.
"No, I won't," Sylaris countered, planting her boots firmly in the slush.
"I said get in, Sylaris!" Zaliyah yelled, his patience finally snapping.
Harun stepped between them, dropping to one knee so he was at eye level with the girl. "Please, just get in, little one. Otherwise, we will be late, and your new teacher will think you don't care for her. Do it for me?"
Sylaris huffed, looking at Harun's pleading face before shooting a final glare at her father. "Fine. I'm only doing this for Harun."
"Nobody cares who you're doing it for, just move your feet," Zaliyah grumbled, rolling his eyes as he climbed in after her.
Harun chuckled, watching them. The way they sat, arms folded, heads turned away from each other, pouting in identical fashion made it impossible to deny their blood. They were two sides of the same stubborn coin.
The carriage eventually halted in front of a massive iron gate. Beyond it stood a sprawling, mansion-like building of ancient, gray stone. It was a prestigious academy, housing both the toddlers of the nobility and the teenagers of the high-class demons.
The students were a sea of vibrant fashion; some wore expensive silks layered with furs , while others donned the structured, heavy cotton shirts and black lounge trousers.
Sylaris stepped out, her tiny boots crunching on the snow.
"Have fun at school," Harun called out warmly.
Sylaris nodded solemnly. "Tell Auntie Iruna that I hate her."
Harun let out a soft laugh. "I will be sure to pass on the message."
Zaliyah watched his daughter walk toward the gates. Just before she disappeared into the crowd, she paused and turned around, her small face lighting up. "Bye, Dada I love you so much!"
Zaliyah's heart melted instantly. The anger of the morning vanished. "I love you too, sweetie"
Sylaris's face immediately shifted back into a scowl. "It's Sylaris. Or 'Warrior.' 'Sweeties' are for fat kids who like sweets"
"Just get in the building!" Zaliyah shouted back, though he was smiling. Sylaris giggled and vanished into the throng of students.
As the carriage pulled away, the atmosphere inside shifted. The playfulness died, replaced by a focused silence. Zaliyah looked at Harun and nodded.
The carriage slowed for a moment Harun stepped out, whispered a set of redirected coordinates into the driver's ear, and returned to his seat.
"She seems very attached to Iruna," Zaliyah spoke, his voice low as he watched the frozen hills blur past the window.
"Iruna can't live without her either," Harun agreed softly. "The child is her soul essence."
"It makes me worried for the both of them," Zaliyah admitted, his brow furrowing. "I fear Sylaris wouldn't be able to adapt to the human lifestyle and its people when she finally goes back. She has become so... Northwest."
"You need not think too much of it, Your Highness," Harun countered. "The humans wouldn't be too judgmental of her. She has a way of winning people over."
"I don't fear the humans," Zaliyah snapped, his eyes flashing. "I fear for the people around her. I fear she hasn't mastered her powers well enough to hide them. And Sylaris... if she loses control in the Human Realm..."
"You think too lightly of Sylaris," Harun interrupted firmly. "And in this case, we have no choice. The Palace is a lion's den, Your Highness. I would prefer she be a danger to people in the human realm than her being in constant danger in the palace."
Zaliyah leaned his head against the cold glass. The thought of the eventual separation, of the "lion's den" he had to return to, filled him with despair.
The carriage eventually came to a halt in front of a building that looked like a fever dream of color and sin. It was an expensive "tea house" a brothel of the highest order, draped in red silks and gold leaf.
Harun reached for a wide-brimmed straw hat with a thick, opaque veil. He fastened it securely over Zaliyah's head, hiding the silver hair and the ethereal face. He then slipped a pair of fine gloves onto Zaliyah's hands, ensuring not an inch of skin was visible.
They stepped inside, and the sensory assault was immediate. The air was filled with the scent of alcohol, cheap perfume, expensive jasmine.
Women in exposed silks lounged on S-shaped courting couches, pouring tea for men who whispered filth into their ears.
Half-naked dancers moved like snakes to the rhythmic beat of a drum, their bodies slick with oil under the glow of hanging lamps.
This was a sanctuary for the nobles, a place where a commoner's life would be forfeit just for stepping on the rug.
The madame, a woman who had seen a thousand sins, recognized them immediately. She saw the expensive silk of the veiled man and the iron-like presence of the guard. She bowed so low her forehead nearly touched the floor.
"Welcome back, My Lord," she whispered.
Zaliyah nodded. She led them upstairs to the VIP floor, into a private room with a hidden viewing screen a one-way mirror that looked into the adjoining chamber. Zaliyah entered, and Harun took his position outside the door, his hand on his sword guarding the door.
Zaliyah peeled away the veil. He sat on a pillowed chair, one leg folded beneath him, a porcelain cup of tea balanced in his fingers, sipping the lukewarm tea as he watched the two men in the next room through the glass.
The tea was good , something floral and faintly sweet, imported probably, the sort of detail this establishment took seriously. He took a slow sip and regarded the scene before him with the attention of someone who had paid well for the privilege.
The two performers were extraordinary.
The brute was enormous , broad across the shoulders, thick through the arms, the kind of build that suggested a life involving physical labor or considerable violence, possibly both.
He moved like someone who had never once been required to be careful with his strength. His partner was the opposite pale as fresh snow, slight and delicate, pink hair spilling across the silk beneath him in soft waves, his frame so slender it seemed improbable against the mass of the man above him.
And yet he took everything given to him.
The brute set a pace that filled the candlelit chamber unrestrained sounds escaped his partner's throat , his voice rising and falling in waves .
There was nothing performative about it. Whatever was happening in the center of that room was overwhelmingly genuine, and Zaliyah found that far more interesting than any rehearsed display would have been.
He took another sip of tea.
The pink haired man said something under his breath and the brute responded by gripping his hips and driving forward with a force that knocked the words clean out of him.
Zaliyah watched as the pink haired guy arched his throat, his delicate hands scrambling for something to hold.
He felt a warmth settle low in his stomach that had nothing to do with the tea.
He was entertained. if he was being honest with himself, he was considerably more than entertained.
He kept his expression composed regardless, the cup at his lips, his purple eyes tracking the scene with calm attention.
The brute was not a gentle man. That much was evident in every movement the grip that would leave marks, the pace that offered no mercy, his groans echoed in the chamber. His pink haired partner seemed devastatingly enthusiastic, his voice was a continuous music that rose in pitch whenever the angle changed.
Then the brute looked up.
His dark eyes settled on Zaliyah's Purple eyes. He didn't look away even as his hips continued their relentless work, even as the pink haired man beneath him grew increasingly incoherent and his moans louder.
Zaliyah looked at the brute over the rim of his teacup.
The brute's mouth curved into a smirk, His eyes didn't move away.
"Interesting ... " Zaliyah thought, Then he lowered his cup, tilted his chin slightly, and said "How audacious, Look away."
His smirk widened and then he peeled his gaze away driving into the pink haired man harder than before, as though being told where not to look had made him want to pour everything into the place he was allowed.
The pink haired man cried out, his hands flying to the sheets, he gripped the sheets tightly.
Zaliyah settled back into his cushions as the scene built toward its conclusion, the brute's control finally snapped, abandoning all pretense of civility, his partner's voice rose to levels that the curtains could no longer contain.
When the end arrived the brute buried himself deep within the pink haired, a low growl tearing from his chest as he released, his broad frame shuddering.
The pink haired man collapsed on the sheets, he was breathless spent, the hot semen leaking out of him.
Zaliyah finally finished his tea.
He set the cup down on the small table beside the chaise and settled back into the cushions, his eyes darting up towards the ceiling for a moment .
The incense curled in the warm air. He felt pleasantly warm , a comfortable heat settled beneath his skin that he had no intention of examining .
He tilted his head slightly,
The thoughts of a castle bedchamber. Of green eyes and black hair invaded his mind. He quickly killed the thought and returned his attention to the present.
Outside the door, Harun's cheeks burned a bright red. He knew exactly what was going on in the room and the sounds of the "entertainment" made his skin crawl with a mix of shame and duty.
After an hour the door creaked open.
Zaliyah stepped out, his hat already fastened back into place. Harun caught a glimpse through the crack of the door, two men lay collapsed on the bed, trembling and drenched in sweat, looking as if their souls had been wrung out.
Harun handed a heavy sack of gold to the waiting madame, and they exited the building without a word.
Inside the room, the madame looked at the two exhausted men and smirked. "Who knew the Lord would take such a fancy to you two? This is truly a windfall."
"Lord?" the man on the bottom wheezed, his eyes unfocused. "That was a man?"
The woman laughed. "Even I was confused when I first saw him. I thought it was one of those perverted hags who pay gold just to watch. But no... he is a man. An ethereal one."
The man on top smiled weakly. "A god... he looked like a god."
"Hey, hey, hey" the madame snapped, her face twisting. "Don't go having silly ideas. Your manhood is the only reason you haven't frozen to death in the gutters. How would you make a living if it gets cut off for looking at someone you shouldn't? A pig doesn't need to look outside the pigsty."
Zaliyah stepped back into the carriage, his movements stiff. Harun looked at him intensely. Even under the thick veil, he could sense the heat radiating from Zaliyah.
"Should I help you unfasten it, Your Highness?" Harun asked softly.
Zaliyah nodded. Harun gently peeled the hat away, revealing Zaliyah's face his cheeks were burning a feverish red, His silver hair fell like a shimmering waterfall over his shoulders as he leaned back against the seat.
He folded his arms, staring out at the frozen hills, the carriage fell into a deep silence.
Then, the carriage came to a sudden halt. The beasts shrieked, and the wood of the carriage groaned under the force of the brake.
Harun was out the door in a second, his sword drawn. Zaliyah leaned out the window, his heart hammering against his ribs as he heard the driver's panicked voice.
"Your highness ,Snow monsters They've broken the perimeter... they've attacked the academy!"
Zaliyah's blood turned ice cold, his heart almost escaped his chest.