"I knew you would think that. But no, little witch, I'm not from the nobility."
He said it so matter-of-factly, without any hint of hesitation, his voice calm and unaffected. There was no arrogance in his tone, no defensiveness. He simply stated it like a fact. And with those words, I felt a shift in the atmosphere between us. The tension that had been coiling tightly in my muscles, making me feel stiff and on edge, started to ease up just a little. It wasn't enough to make me comfortable, but it was enough to make me feel less cornered. The weight that had been pressing down on my chest lifted slightly, but not enough to let me fully relax. Not enough to trust him.
"But you work with them," I said, my voice steady but still laced with the doubt that had settled deep inside me. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something I was missing, some key detail that he wasn't telling me. My anger was still simmering beneath the surface, not fully gone, but under control for now.
"Mm-hmm, technically yes." He paused then, as though he was considering his next words carefully, weighing them before he spoke. "So, could you tell me why you hate nobles and royals so much?"
The question seemed simple enough, but it struck a nerve in me, and I didn't need to think about the answer for even a second. The words slipped from my mouth before I had the chance to filter them, as if they had been waiting to escape for so long, building up inside me, waiting for the right moment to break free. "Isn't it obvious?"
I bit my lip hard to steady myself, trying to hold back the flood of emotions that had been brewing inside me for years. I ran my fingers through my dark hair, the frustration surging inside me again like an uncontrollable tide. I drew in a slow, steadying breath before I spoke again, trying to gather my thoughts but knowing full well that my anger was bubbling over.
"They're people who think they're superior to everyone else—peasants, the ones with just one wrath, the ones who work themselves to the bone just to be a little stronger. They're the ones who weren't born great, the ones with no money, the orphans, and the ones from other races. It doesn't matter who you are or where you come from. They think they have the right to look down on you because they wear crowns and sit on thrones. They think they're better, as if their titles give them the right to dismiss the rest of us like we're nothing."
My hands curled into fists at my sides, the tension in my body building again. My voice grew stronger, tinged with the anger that I couldn't suppress. It was like a pressure valve had opened, and everything I had been bottling up for so long came rushing out. "They think that because they're nobles or royals, their word is law, that they can control the lives of everyone else. They think they can dictate who gets to live and who gets to die. But none of them give a single damn about the people who have nothing—no money, no power, no wraths. They don't care about the ones struggling to survive, or the ones who are too weak to fight back. They don't care about the ones who are looked down upon simply for existing. They're a bunch of scumbags, all of them, because they don't care about the people they're supposed to protect. And I hate that. I hate them."
The words were out, raw and unfiltered, and I couldn't take them back. They hung in the air, and I could feel the weight of them between us. He was silent for a long time, and the silence was suffocating, stretching out between us like a vast chasm. His eyes were fixed on me, intense and thoughtful, as if he was studying me, weighing every word I'd said. I couldn't look away. I wanted to, but I couldn't. His gaze was unrelenting, but it didn't feel hostile. It felt like he was trying to understand, trying to find the right way to respond.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke again, his voice low and steady.
"I agree with you about a lot of that, actually," he said, his tone slow but genuine. "But you have to understand, little witch, that it's not like that here in the Dusk Kingdom."
I raised an eyebrow, and the disbelief was clear on my face. "What are you talking about?"
He leaned forward, his expression serious, and for the first time, I saw the playfulness in his eyes fade, replaced by something much more earnest. "I can see it in your eyes—you think all kingdoms are the same. That every noble, every royal, is just like the ones you've seen in your life. But if you had lived here, if you had truly interacted with the people here, you'd see how different this place is. The people here are genuinely happy. They live in peace."
I scoffed, unable to hide my bitterness, and a bitter laugh escaped my lips. "And yet, you're sitting here telling me you need my help to fix everything. That doesn't sound peaceful."
His expression faltered, just for a moment, and I caught the flicker of frustration that passed across his face. He pressed his lips together, clearly trying to hold back some deeper emotion. "Well… that was the case. It was. But things have changed recently. Now, not just the faes, but the other races too, are starting to fear for their safety. But that's not the point I'm trying to make. The point is… things haven't always been like this, little witch. If you agree to help me, you'll see this with your own eyes. You'll see that what I'm saying is true."
The doubt in my chest remained, unshakable and heavy. I crossed my arms over my chest, the skepticism in my gaze sharp and unrelenting. "So why would things be different here? What makes this kingdom so special?"
His green eyes gleamed with something I hadn't expected—pride. Fierce, unyielding pride, like he was speaking about something he deeply believed in. He leaned closer, and I could see the depth of his conviction in the way his gaze never wavered. "Our king," he said simply, his voice full of an emotion I couldn't quite place. It wasn't just admiration. It was belief.
There was something in his eyes, something unshakable, that made me pause.
He leaned back, his expression softening a little, but the admiration in his eyes remained unmistakable. "Our king is the difference. He's not like the others. He doesn't view people as tools to control. He doesn't see the races or classes as separate. And he sure as hell doesn't think his word is the only one that matters. The people here believe in him. They trust him. And that's why things were peaceful."
I stared at him, my mind racing. I searched his face for any sign of doubt, any flicker of uncertainty, but there was nothing there. Only pure, unwavering belief in the king of the Dusk Kingdom. For a split second, I almost found myself believing him too. It was a fleeting thought, but it was enough to make me wonder. What if things really were different here? What if the Dusk Kingdom was not like the others?
His conviction was almost infectious, and for the first time, I found myself wanting to know more. I wanted to see this kingdom, this king, for myself.
But I couldn't let my guard down. Not yet.