The journey to the kingdom was tense. The air was still and heavy, as though the world itself held its breath. Liam sat quietly, his fingers gripping the pendant around his neck, a strange unease prickling at his senses.
The silence shattered like glass when the thunder of hooves and the clash of blades filled the air. Startled, Liam peeked out of the carriage window, but before he could see anything, an arrow flew past, narrowly missing his face. His heart leapt in terror.
Lynce, the hooded man who protected him, moved swiftly. "Stay inside," he commanded, his voice cold and firm. He jumped from the carriage with his sword gleaming in the fading daylight. The battle began—demons, wild and savage, attacked in waves. They were barbarians, their twisted forms snarling and swinging crude weapons.
The carriage shook violently as the horses panicked. Liam clung to the seat, but it was no use. One of the barbarians struck a horse, and the entire carriage tipped over, crashing to the ground.
Liam tumbled out, his breath ragged. Thankfully, he wasn't hurt, but before he could make sense of what was happening, a shadow loomed over him. A barbarian, massive and covered in blood, stood with a cruel grin on his face. His sword dripped red, and his glowing eyes bore into Liam.
"So, this is the treasure the wretched kings are trying to hide," the demon sneered. His voice was rough and filled with malice. He leaned closer, his bloody hand reaching toward Liam. "I wonder how you'll taste..."
Liam froze, his entire body trembling in fear. But before the barbarian could touch him, a powerful slash rang out. The demon crumpled to the ground, cut down by Lynce's blade. The hooded man stood before Liam like a shield, his sword dripping with the blood of his enemies.
Liam watched in terror as the battle raged on. The barbarians outnumbered Lynce, and even his skill couldn't hold them all off. Just when it seemed the tide would overwhelm them, a small troop of soldiers arrived—sent by the kings themselves.
The reinforcements joined the fight, cutting down the barbarians with practiced precision. Liam stood frozen amidst the chaos, his clothes stained with splatters of blood, his mind unable to process the violence. His delicate hands trembled as the sight of so much death overwhelmed him.
The troop managed to turn the tide, and the remaining barbarians fled. One of the demons from the troop approached Liam, his sharp eyes scanning him with suspicion. Though they were there to protect him, Liam could feel their disdain. It wasn't subtle—the hatred in their eyes was as sharp as the swords they wielded.
An angel. The word lingered unsaid but heavy in the air. He could see it in their glares, in the way they refused to speak directly to him unless they had to. If he weren't the kings' mate, they might have let him fall to the barbarians.
A new carriage was brought forward, and one of the soldiers gestured for Liam to get inside. But before he did, Liam turned toward Lynce and the other demons who had fought to protect him. Their injuries were obvious—cuts and bruises that darkened their otherwise sharp appearances.
With hesitant steps, Liam approached them. His voice was soft and unsure, but it carried genuine concern. "Are you hurt?"
Lynce blinked in surprise, as did the others. None of them had expected the angel to care about their well-being. One demon scoffed under his breath but showed his arm, where a deep gash oozed blood. Liam reached out, his delicate fingers hovering over the wound.
The moment his hand touched the demon's skin, a gentle, golden light spread from his fingertips. The wound closed almost instantly, leaving no trace of the injury behind. The demon stared, wide-eyed, as if unable to comprehend what had just happened.
Liam moved to another soldier, then another, repeating the process until he had healed every injury he could see. His angelic aura shimmered faintly in the air around him, soft and calming.
Once finished, he stepped back, lowering his gaze shyly. "Thank you... for protecting me," he whispered, before hurrying into the carriage.
The demons exchanged stunned glances. For a moment, their hatred for angels wavered, replaced by reluctant gratitude. But the deep-seated bitterness they held for Liam's kind didn't vanish so easily.
Inside the carriage, Liam sat quietly, his hands still trembling. He couldn't forget the blood, the violence, the hatred. He was just a small, innocent angel, thrown into a world that despised him. But even as fear clung to his heart, there was a flicker of hope. He was alive, and for now, that was enough.
As the kings were discussing matters with their courtiers, whispers of doubt filled the air. Could Liam be a spy ? Could it be some threat plotted by enemy? The thought nagged at them, though their hearts churned with confusion. Something about him stirred their minds, but they couldn't be certain.
Liam's arrival sent waves through the empire. Some were intrigued by the sight of a rare angel, while others turned their heads in disdain. The rumors swirled—could he be an envoy sent by the Temple? No one knew, but there was no denying the spectacle he caused.
He entered the grand gates of the castle, the air heavy with gossip. People peeked curiously at the carriage, then at Liam as he stepped down. His clothes were stained with blood from the recent attack, though few understood the cause. Their whispers grew louder, pointing fingers and casting judgment. The beautiful women and men, whose beauty had once commanded attention, were now gripped with envy and sour disapproval. They hated Liam, though they couldn't quite figure out why.
Yet, no one could deny his porcelain beauty. His hair gleamed under the setting sun, as if kissed by the last rays of daylight, and his skin seemed to glow like a golden statue. He was like something from a dream, but he felt the weight of the gaze upon him, uncomfortable with how the onlookers fixated on his delicate feathers. So, with a flicker of magic, he hid them from view, but that only deepened the murmurs.
Then, a strikingly beautiful young woman with a perfect figure approached, her eyes cold with disdain. She scoffed and leaned in close to Liam and whispered, "You don't belong here. You don't deserve this. Give up now, or you'll end up in this territory, where no one will look for you ."
Liam stood frozen, confused by her words, when suddenly a shadow fell over him. The woman's expression went pale, and she quickly bowed before retreating. Liam turned, his gaze colliding with Maximilian's piercing eyes. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Liam, a vision of breathtaking innocence, could have been a threat, a danger sent by the Temple or some enemy. But despite his wariness, Maximilian's control slipped, his gaze lingering longer than it should.
Liam, unversed in the ways of kings, didn't know how to behave. Everyone around him bowed to Maximilian, but he remained unsure of what to do. Maximilian, leaned in close, his breath brushing Liam's ear. "Even blood suits you," he whispered, sending a shiver down Liam's spine.
Maximilian's voice was low, hoarse, and then he told Liam to follow. As they walked, Liam winced with each step, noticing that his shoes had been lost in the chaos of the attack, leaving his feet bruised and sore. The frustration radiated from Maximilian, and the air thickened with tension, a palpable aura of power that made even the bravest of souls tremble.
Liam looked up at him, confusion still clouding his mind, but before he could say anything, Maximilian, already on edge, scooped him up effortlessly in one arm. Liam was weightless in his hold, as if he were made of nothing but delicate feathers. Flushed with both surprise and embarrassment, Liam gasped. He had never been treated like this before—like a fragile child in need of care.
Maximilian smirked, satisfied with the reaction, his icy demeanor cracking for just a moment. It was a rare sight, one that sent ripples through the onlookers. The courtiers, who had once admired Maximilian's ruthlessness, now watched in stunned silence, their own thoughts turning darker. The beauty of Liam had already caused ripples in the kingdom, but this moment—the king's reaction—sent a new wave of unease through the air.
As Maximilian carried Liam to the prepared room, the halls buzzed with whispers of what had just transpired. Everyone bowed to the king, but Liam, still in awe of everything around him, couldn't help but be entranced by the unfamiliar beauty of the palace. Like a curious child in a world of wonders, he explored the room with wide-eyed fascination, unaware of the deeper forces at play, swirling around him, ready to pull him into their midst.