His people thought of him as a monster, but Aldric considered himself merciful. Though Islinda's fate was sealed for the night, it wouldn't be a violent demise, unlike his initial plans. She wouldn't endure pain or awareness; she would simply slip into eternal sleep.
Aldric meticulously crafted the concoction, one of his renowned masterpieces—the Nightingale Slumber. A small dose could end a human's life, while it would only incapacitate an adult Fae. Colorless and tasteless, this potion defied detection even by the most skilled poison tasters, given its delayed reaction.
In his twisted sense of mercy, Aldric had chosen a method that spared Islinda from a gruesome end. Yet, the first subject of his refined experiment was Islinda, his unwitting mate. The realization struck him like a sudden storm, and the mere acknowledgment of Islinda as his mate caused an unexpected pang in his heart. He was indeed a monster, wasn't he?
