Chapter 21 - Chapter Twenty

I knew it was dangerous from the beginning. Not only was it dangerous for a normal person but it was even more dangerous for me. I was the King, I fetched quite a high price. I laughed, my fists clenching against the carriage seat.

When it pulled to a stop, I let my head fall back. It was dangerous, but I wondered what it would be like if I wasn't the King if I was born as nothing more than a simple civilian, not a prince. Would I follow orders like a dog? Or would I suppress power, knowing they held it all? It'd just get me killed, in a world like this, and I'd like to think I wouldn't be that stupid.

I opened the carriage door, jumping out and throwing up the hood of my cloak. The foul scent of rot wafted from everywhere around me. I knew most of the houses were empty but still, as I took a few steps forward, I felt like I was being watched. It's a good thing I decided to stop where I did.

I'd go in through the gate on foot. It'd draw too much attention to bring a carriage inside.

"I'm going into the lower class housing. Please return to the castle, I'll handle my own return," I said, turning to the carriage driver. He visibly stiffened but nodded nonetheless.

I began walking towards the wall, the carriage remaining in place behind me. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵? 𝘐𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴. I rolled my eyes. 𝘚𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘭. 𝘐𝘵'𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘺.

"King Tairen!?" One guard exclaimed. I almost face-palmed but instead settled for sending him a sharp glare that had him apologizing quickly. "Oh, sorry, I must have been mistaken." The words were so obviously loud that anyone with half a brain would be able to tell it was a lie.

"Just let me in," I said with a sigh.

He bowed and then sent a signal up to the wall. Just moments after, the gate slowly groaned open.

I wondered how Ryker reacted to the walls. I wondered if he thought they were beautiful or maybe he thought it was unnecessary. Maybe he didn't like that there were sections like this. I pinched the bridge of my nose. 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘐𝘵'𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘢𝘭. 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦, 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘯𝘰𝘸.

𝘏𝘦'𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺.

As I stepped through the giant doors, that foul smell grew stronger, almost thick enough that I felt dizzy. What, did they leave their dead in the streets?

I shook my head and continued walking. This is where Keo grew up. One would think he'd be grateful to an excessive extent after taking him from the slums and letting him live in the castle, with the privileges of a prince, no less. But he never acted gratefully. I guess it didn't matter whether he acted gratefully or not, he'd do what he was told either way.

As the streets began to liven up, I directed my attention elsewhere. If I kept thinking about my life back at the castle, coming here would mean nothing.

If I kept thinking like the King, I'd never experience what it's really like out here and I'd never get the chance again. But I guess old habits die hard, don't they?

No one spared me a glance. They just minded their own business. Not only that but they were all aware, unlike the people I usually encountered behind the inner wall. The people here were stiff and just out of reach from everyone around them. I found myself doing the same.

I was drawn to the loudest building in the area. It looked like a tavern but it was the only place that people were laughing and actually interacting with each other. Everyone outside was too aware, too distrusting. I'd get nothing from them.

A couple of men stumbled out of the doors, laughing and arguing, their words slurred. They weren't wearing any cloaks or masks, just completely bare. I glanced inside and realized most people weren't wearing anything to hide their identity either. Hesitantly, I slipped off my hood. In a place like this, it'd draw attention not to show my face. It's a good thing Cedric made it so important to keep my face out of the news.

A hand grabbed my cloak and I turned to the person gripping it. It was one of the men that had just left the tavern. His hair was an unnatural bright orange but I guess there was no way to change in so it must have been natural. His eyes were a light brown, reflecting the light from behind me.

"Who're you?" He slurred, a sloppy smile on his face.

I swatted his hand off and said, "Nobody you know." His smile faltered but he quickly regained it, his eyes shamelessly scanning down my body.

"You're so pretty," he said before turning around and stumbling back down the stairs. I was at a loss for words. 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺? 𝘏𝘦'𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺. I couldn't help the smile from tilting my lips as I turned and walked into the tavern.

Like outside, everyone minded their own business as I entered. But I was too dumbfounded by those man's words to fully comprehend everything around me. 𝘏𝘦'𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯!

I shook my head as I made my way to the bar. He was just drunk. He didn't mean anything because he didn't know what he was talking about. And pretty wasn't just used for women anyway, but I definitely wouldn't describe myself as pretty.

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩? It was just a few meaningless words spoken by a man that wouldn't even remember meeting me in the morning. But drunk or not, that man had gotten me to somewhat relax and I probably wouldn't even remember his face.

"Hi, would you like something to drink?" The bartender asked, her voice raised so I could hear her over the music and cheers. It was a young girl, probably no older than seventeen, with braided brown hair. She leaned forward, and I knew she was trying to draw attention to her excessively exposed bosom. But I guess this was a tavern.

"Yeah, do you have Fey drinks?" I asked. She smiled, swaying her hips slightly.

"Yes, what would you like?" She asked.

"Just a Sylph Cocktail," I answered. She rose an eyebrow and then turned around.

"Coming right up!"

As it drew later into the night, the tavern began to fill even more. People began dancing and more than one bar fight had broken out, ending in laughter and cheering. When my steps began to falter, I put down my drink for the night but found myself dragged into the horde of dancing people.

The minutes passed by in a blur, becoming nothing but memories of moving bodies and hands and fleeting touches.

𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥? 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘐'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦? It was relaxing and exhilarating both at the same time, giving me a feeling of freedom I wanted to chase. But every time I thought about simply giving up, simply staying, I found myself right back where I started. I couldn't leave, there was so much to do. So much to do that only I could do.

But I didn't want to let go of that freedom just yet.

I was laying on a table, my arm draped over my eyes to shield them from the lights. A woman's arm was draped over my stomach, her legs hanging off the table and tangling with mine. She was asleep but I hadn't found that yet. I figured it was because she'd probably drunk a lot more than I had.

I slowly sat up, studying the mess around me. The bartender had left already, leaving the bar open for people to drink. Did they not care about making money?

A group of men was lying on the ground, passed out on each other. I assumed they had fought and passed out immediately afterward or in the process.

I gently pried the woman's arm away from me and jumped off the table. Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I walked towards the back of the tavern and up the stairs. I wanted to see if there were any rooms in this building because I was too tired to start heading back to the castle.

At the top of the stairs was a hallway, doors on each side. I sighed, opening the first room, and, finding it empty, walked inside. I reached up to take my cloak off only to find I wasn't even wearing it.

My eyes widened as I looked around the room. I couldn't leave the tavern without a cloak, it was too dangerous. I ran my hands down my face with a groan before walking back out of the room.

I hoped it was downstairs and just lying somewhere. If it wasn't, I'd have to make a cloak out of the bed sheets or curtains or something.

"What's wrong, baby?"

I stopped in my tracks, scrunching my eyebrows. With my hands in my pockets, I continued walking, entering the room I'd spent most of my night in.

A man was hunched over the table I had been laying on, over the woman I'd left there. His hands forced her legs open and he pressed unwanted kisses up her neck. She feebly fought back, pushing his shoulders to no avail, her movements slow and weak.

I sighed. I hated people like them, both of them. One's that didn't know their limits like her and disgusting, sleazy ones like him. If she'd stopped drinking before she passed out, she'd have a fighting chance. But I guess it's not her fault this man thought it was okay to force her into intimacy in any way.

I slowly walked up behind him. I tiled my head, suppressing a cringe. "Hey," I said but my words had no effect on the man. I narrowed my eyes, raising my voice as I repeated, "𝘏𝘦𝘺." He waved a hand towards me and then lifted a leg to climb onto the table. I curled my lip into a snarl and smashed my foot into the back of his knee. His leg slipped off the table as he fell, his jaw clashing with the tabletop. "It's rude to ignore people."

He groaned, rolling to face me with foolish fire in his eyes. I smirked at the sight of blood on his hand as he removed it from his mouth. He pulled himself to his feet, with help from the table. "What's your goddamn problem, boy?" This is none of your business so fuck off!"

He was probably around Cedric's age, maybe older. That made it worse because that meant he was brought in from the outside, not born here in Chison. He was one of the ones chosen by my father. "You're disgusting, that's my problem," I said, taking a step forward.

"Oh, so we got a hero, don't we?" He asked, taking up a sloppy defensive stance.

I laughed, stuffing my hands in my pockets. "I'm no hero." I turned my body slightly, facing my shoulder towards him as he took his first step forward. His second step, I lifted my chin, running my tongue along my teeth. His third brought him in range, so I pulled my foot back, aimed it just right, and brought it down against his knee. I felt it shift and break. It reminded me of a twig, snapping so easily. How weak can someone be? I barely put anything into that, and made it all pretty obvious, too. He could have dodged it with ease.

He cried out, all his confidence fading and being replaced by pain and humiliation. A ripple of joy rushed through me. It'd been so long since I'd fought—really fought. Sure, I'd spar with Keo once in a while but that was never real fighting. It was just a series of motions aimed and never connecting. Here, I was cutting down someone who not only deserved it and asked for it, but who'd been so disgusting he was practically provoking me to intervene.

His body shuddered with waves of pain, his eyes teary and his cheeks flushed. I leaned down, tilting my head to the side. My fists clenched in my pockets. I wanted to hit him, beat him to a pulp. I wanted to see what he'd look like when faced with death. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥.

"Do you normally prey on helpless people to sate your own desires? Tell me, do you get off on taking advantage of women?" I asked, nudging his injured knee with my foot. "You're revolting."

I took a step back, only to take it forward once again, swinging my leg with twice the amount of force poured into it than my last strike. This one was aimed at his face and this time, I not only felt it but saw it. I saw the damage I did as he flung across the floor, blood spurting from his mouth. He turned to look at me with an already swelling cheek. His eyes were wide, filled with fear.

𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬.

"I don't like to be kept waiting so answer me. Do you get off on taking advantage of women? Does it make you feel better or do you do it to chase some ghost?" I glared, my fingers twitching.

"I—I don't—I wasn't even—" he broke off as I aimed another strike to his chest. If I'd kicked a little harder, I would have broken a rib. But I didn't want to risk something vital being punctured. He didn't deserve to be let off so easily.

"Don't die on me yet," I hummed as he writhed on the ground, tears spilling down his cheeks. I turned to the girl, still lying on the table, and carefully helped her to her feet.

I was confident the man wouldn't get far even if he tried to run so I brought the woman up the stairs and into the room I'd just been in. After laying her on the bed, I locked the door from the inside and left, returning downstairs.

In the time it'd taken to bring her upstairs, I'd calmed down. I was no longer itching to strike. I must have been a little under the influence of the alcohol because not only was I suddenly wobbly on my feet, but I wasn't thinking straight. If I were in my right mind, I wouldn't have lost my train of thought so easily.

But I doubted it was the alcohol. I handled my alcohol pretty well and I hadn't even drunk enough. But I couldn't figure out what else it would be. Maybe I was getting sick or something.

I felt a tight grip around my wrist. It was painfully tight but before I could turn around, I was thrown to the ground, my head smashing into the wall. I groaned, looking up with blurry eyes. There were three men before me. 𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦? 𝘕𝘰, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥. 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬-𝘶𝘱?

My blood rushed in my ears, my heart fluttering in my chest. This was no time to get excited but I couldn't help it, they were fighting back. And considering how I was the one on the ground, they had the means to, too.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦.

As I blinked, my vision slowly returned but was still shaky. Warmth spread down the back of my head and down my neck.

"Yer a pretty one, aren't ya?" One of the men asked, kneeling down in front of me. His accent was thick, I wondered where he'd picked it up from. I smirked and scooted up into a better sitting position, the movement sending a painful throb to my head.

"If you wanted to compliment me, you could have just said so. You didn't have to assault me," I said.

"He sounds like someone from the inner wall," another man commented. My eyes widened. He'd figured out I was from the inner wall by how I sounded? I didn't realize I spoke any different than anyone here. The first man that'd spoken was also the first man I'd heard with such a thick accent. I wondered if the second man spent so much time around nobles and higher-ups that he was able to tell with ease who they were. But how? People from the lower class housing didn't interact with people from the inner wall. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴' 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦?

"Yeah, sure does," the first man agreed, grabbing my wrist. I jerked it away from him, clenching my hand at my side. He smiled a sickly smile. "Don't be shy, little viper. I'm not gonna hurt ya."

I looked away from him, glancing around the bar. I wondered where that man had gone. And were the men that had been on the floor had gone. The only thing that man could do was crawl so he probably wasn't far but even if he did leave, all that mattered was that woman was okay now. 𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧.

It's not like I was worried about the woman in the first place, I was just worked up. I wanted to make someone hurt and she gave me that option. But somehow, I wasn't satisfied yet. Actually, I wasn't even the least bit satisfied. 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵—

"Hey, I'm right here," the man snapped, jerking my chin towards him. "You don't need to pay attention to anything else."

"You're right," I said, cringing at the smell of tobacco on his breath. I leaned forward, my hand slipping down to my boot, fiddling with the leather. "I don't need to pay attention to anything else because if I'm not looking at you—" my fingers brushed cold metal as my voice hushed "—I can't aim for your throat."

I gripped the bare handle, letting the blade brush my leg as I slipped it out from between my boot and my calf. My eyes honed in on his throat. I swear I could hear his heartbeat, see his pulse, or maybe that was my own.

Just before the blade touched his skin, he was thrown back. He grunted as he collided with one of the other men. I blinked, the knife in my hand light as my fingers relaxed with surprise. I hadn't even touched him. A man stood in front of me, facing away. He wore a long white cloak but I could make out smooth black boots from under the hem of it.

The first thing that came to mind was that there was no way he was from around here, not with that high quality of clothes.

"Hey, I had that covered," I snapped, pulling myself to my feet.

The man laughed and it sent a flutter from my stomach to my chest. "I know you did but I'd rather not have bloodstains on the floor. It's bad for business." He turned around and my eyes widened. Pitch, straight black hair fell unruly over scarlet eyes. I'd always loved how straight his hair was. It was longer now, too.

"E-Ezra?"

He smirked and I couldnt help but relax. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘺? I looked down, at the blade in my hand. 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵. 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘐 couldn't 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

"You're all lucky I came along or you'd be dead," he said, turning to the three men. The first man looked afraid and I understood why. If I could defeat them, and I could, I knew Ezra could too. He was my teacher, and the head guard back when I was younger. I wondered what I'd be like if he'd have stayed. If I would have just stayed in my lane.

The second man snarled, taking a step forward. "And who are you? Our little viper's daddy?" He asked. I clenched the knife in my hand. This man didn't look afraid, like the others. I wanted to see his eyes doused in fear. I wanted to break that overconfidence in his eyes. It was so annoying.

"No, I'm the owner of this tavern and I'd like you to stop assaulting my friend and go home before things get ugly, okay?" He said, tucking a hand in his hair with a sigh.

The man's eyes widened and then he sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Let's go. This is a waste of time," he said as he walked past us, towards the door. The other two hesitantly followed, sending vicious glares toward us.

I started. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵? 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵? 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘺?

Ezra turned to me, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Are you alright?" He asked but his words were deeper, pulling at the taught strings in my heart.

"I'm fine. You should worry about yourself. They're probably not finished. I doubt they'd leave so easily," I said, searching around the room for my cloak. When I found it, I hurriedly threw it over my shoulders.

"There no need to worry. Why are you here, anyway? Doesn't the King have more important duties to attend to than visiting a small tavern in the slums?" He asked, sitting on a barstool.

I shrugged. "I had a rough day." 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥, 𝘵𝘰𝘰. 𝘐𝘵'𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. He'd 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦.

"Well, it's dangerous. You should be more careful," he said.

"I 𝘸𝘢𝘴 being careful," I said, sitting on the barstool beside him. "It was their mistake. I was in control of the situation."

He shook his head. "You always are."

I threw my hood up, looking down at my hand. My wrist was beginning to bruise. That man had a pretty tight grip if nothing else. Now I'd have to hide this if I wanted Cedric to keep quiet about it. I didn't feel like explaining it.

My eyes widened. I'd completely forgotten about my life back at the castle. I was the same person with the same title but I had disregarded what I was supposed to do. I was a king yet I hadn't thought about my royal life for hours. It was an odd feeling.

"How's Cedric doing?" He asked. I furrowed my eyebrows.

"He's fine," I said before looking up at him. "Why did you leave?" The words slipped out on their own accord and that annoyed me.

Ezra's breath hitched. I almost regretted asking it but there was no point in regretting words already spoken.

"Why did you challenge me that day? I always wondered," he said. His scarlet eyes were reminiscent, remembering the past. I didn't want to remember the past but I guess it wouldn't really hurt to remember a time when I was still climbing. "I taught you everything I knew, practically raised you, although I was still learning myself when we first met." He laughed. "I never imagined you'd use it all against me."

"I never imagined you'd be so soft. You've changed quite a bit," I said.

He turned to me, glaring playfully. "I could say the same about you. The person I knew wouldn't care to save a girl in trouble."

"You're wrong," I said, shaking my head. "I would never allow someone to be defiled like that. Shooing off an annoying dog like him was nothing out of the ordinary."

"You dodged my question," he said.

"You dodged mine," I retorted. He smirked, looking away. I sighed. "Well, you were my teacher. In my eyes, you were the strongest person I'd ever met. And in other people's, I was supposed to prove myself so I had to defeat you in order for it to mean something."

Ezra's eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open. He ran his tongue along his cupid's bow before closing his mouth once more. "Well, I left the castle because I was humiliated, to be honest. Oh, and I guess the pressure of being the head guard was getting to me. It was a relief to leave, truly."

"You're not exactly subtle, though, dressing like a noble," I said.

He laughed, looking down at his white cloak. "I guess so, but I can't help it, it's just a habit I picked up. Plus, I don't get bothered much around here because they know me. Drawing attention to myself isn't a problem."

"Still," I said. I felt my face heat up and I looked away. He was spending his life like a normal person and he looked to be happy. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴, 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. I was frustrated and angry because he ran, too. 𝘞𝘩𝘺'𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮? 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯. 𝘞𝘩𝘺'𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦? 𝘐𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦—𝘯𝘰, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦. But then again, I wondered if I was the only reason he left. I never would have thought he'd leave over something so trivial.

"Some TKG members stopped by. They asked about the rumors. I assume you sent them?" He asked.

I snapped my eyes up to him. 𝘏𝘦'𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘙𝘺𝘬𝘦𝘳? "How were they?" I asked before schooling my features and looking away. "Those idiots. Exposing their identity in a place like this."

"Oh no, I recognized Hailey and then put the pieces together. Although, I doubt she even remembers me. They were careful, don't be angry," he said, leaning forward to look at my face. I turned away even more. "And they looked fine to me. Were you worried about them?" I stayed silent and he sighed. "Or maybe just one of them. Maybe that boy with the blue eyes?"

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘮𝘦? I put so much into keeping my feelings, my thoughts, everything about me, hidden but no matter how much I put into it, he saw right through it all. 𝘞𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨? 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘰 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯?

"He's a cute one. But I get the feeling he's more than what he looks like," he said. "I'm a little curious. I hope everything works out."

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦, 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘌𝘻𝘳𝘢. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨? "Why'd you have to leave?" I asked, my shoulders hunching. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵? 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦. When my father died, I found myself looking for him. Cedric couldn't do anything for me so I searched for someone that could. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘸? 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵. 𝘐𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘰.

I felt tears slip down my cheeks and my hands shook. They hurt. The tears stung, like bites, like blades. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬. 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨.

"I'm sorry," Ezra said. "I didn't want to hurt you and I should have at least said something. I should have understood you. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you." He threw an arm over my shoulder, pulling me into his chest but I only tensed even more. "You've always hidden your feelings. Even crying, you're silent. You may be outgoing but you're actually pretty quiet. I wonder if you would have been different if—" he broke off.

I looked up at him. His eyes were soft, guilty. I didn't want him to regret anything. Even now, he didn't understand. I wasn't trying to prove myself to my father or the kingdom back then, I was trying to prove myself to him. I wanted him to stop treating me like a child. I wanted him to just look at me.

𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦?

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵? 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴? 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘐'𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳.

He looked down at me, his eyes warm as they scanned my face. "I missed you," I said and leaned forward. It was a simple peck on the lips, just a shadow of what could have been, and it was a lot less explosive than I imagined it. I guess if I was still chasing after him like a duckling, this would have sent sparks through my entire body, but now it was just tingles. At least I wouldn't regret anything now. Although, I don't think I ever did.

I pulled away, my eyes widening. I stood up abruptly, my hands gripping the fabric of my cloak. "I'm sorry, I—I really gotta go." I spun around.

𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘵. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘦. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯. 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦.

Warmth engulfed my hand, fingers interlocking with my own. I stopped, slowly turning back to him. His head was down, his ears flushed red, hidden behind his black hair. His eyes were down, his head bowed, and his hand gripped mine.

"Um can you—" he looked up at me. He almost looked like a child, his face red and his eyes slightly dazed. It was hard to believe he was twenty-six now. "Can you do that again?" He stood up and I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. "You're looking for something and I'm not sure I can give it to you but I can try. I don't want you to leave empty-handed. So, please—" he clasped both my hands in his, squeezing "—can you do that again?"