Terrified only to see that between Emerys Dusk's slender fingers rested a pair of black iron finger rings.
The edges of the delicate rings were sharp and jagged, each protrusion resembling the claws of some deadly beast.
A chill ran down Seraphina Evercrest's spine as she stared at the cold, cruel things against his pale, elegant hands.
The contrast was unnerving, making him appear even more otherworldly and dangerous.
She shot up from her seat, her heart pounding wildly.
Pointing at Emerys, her voice trembled as scattered memories of whispered legends surfaced in her mind. "You… you're from the Shadowed Veil Division..."
Emerys stilled, his piercing gaze darkening ever so slightly.
A bitter laugh escaped his lips, low and humorless. "Yes. I am the leader of the Shadowed Veil Division, Emerys Dusk."
The words hit her like a physical blow. The Shadowed Veil Division… Emerys Dusk?
Seraphina's mind reeled as she pieced it together.
This sickly yet hauntingly handsome man sipping wine beneath the flickering lantern light—he was the leader of the Shadowed Veil Division, the very name that sent shivers through the heart of every citizen in Caeslencrest Vale?
The Shadowed Veil Division was no ordinary group.
They were the emperor's most loyal and ruthless enforcers, a pack of wolves unleashed to tear apart anyone who dared defy the crown.
Their arrival marked bloodshed, terror, and destruction.
They answered to no official, bowed to no prince, and served only the emperor's will.
It was said the Shadowed Veil Division could uncover any secret, infiltrate any fortress, and eliminate any target without fail.
To be marked by them was to invite doom.
And at the helm of this fearsome force was Emerys Dusk, a man whose cruelty was the stuff of nightmares.
Despite his youth, his reputation had become legend.
They whispered of his cold and unrelenting methods, his penchant for inventing horrifying tortures, and his ability to extract confessions from even the most hardened souls.
His frail health was his only weakness, but even that didn't diminish the fear he inspired.
Draped always in a heavy gray fur coat, he wielded no weapon save the black iron rings on his fingers—rings that had tasted the blood of countless victims.
And now… this monster was standing before her, speaking as if he were no more dangerous than a wandering scholar.
Seraphina's chest tightened as panic rose.
Why was he here?
Why had he chosen this night to reveal himself?
Her gaze flicked to the golden wine cup still in his hand. "You told me you were a guest of Lysander Celestis," she said, her voice shaking. "But you're free to come and go here because…" Her voice trailed off as the realization hit her.
Emerys Dusk was not just some visitor to the Ghost Prince's manor.
His position as the emperor's adopted son, combined with his role as leader of the Shadowed Veil Division, gave him more power and privilege than anyone could challenge.
Seraphina's heart pounded as she tried to reconcile this horrifying truth.
The soft fox fur cloak she wore felt suffocating, the weight of it burning against her skin.
Emerys noticed her discomfort, his sharp eyes catching every flicker of emotion.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, but it carried no warmth. "You needn't look so terrified, Miss Evercrest," he said quietly, his tone as cold as a winter's breeze. "Let's pretend none of this happened."
His words were meant to reassure, but there was something in his voice that struck her as unbearably lonely.
Despite the fear clawing at her, something in Seraphina softened.
With a sigh, she sank back into her chair, refusing to let her emotions show.
She glanced at the pale light of the setting moon and forced a bitter smile. "It doesn't matter. My reputation is already ruined. What's one more secret to keep?"
Emerys paused at her response, his long fingers turning the iron rings slowly. "You've been wronged," he said at last, his voice quieter now. "But… Lysander Celestis is a better match for you than Leander Celestis would have been."
For a moment, Seraphina was silent. Then she laughed—a sharp, bitter laugh that echoed unnaturally in the stillness of the garden.
The sound was jarring, almost hollow.
Emerys didn't flinch. He didn't react at all. He simply watched her, his expression unreadable.
When her laughter subsided, Seraphina's voice carried a faint edge of defiance. "Better? Better for whom, exactly? Certainly not for me."
After Seraphina Evercrest finished laughing, it was as if all her strength had drained away.
She slumped back into the chair, curling up beneath the warm fox fur.
Her voice, now cold and bitter, broke the silence. "But Lysander Celestis… he hates the Evercrest family!"
Emerys Dusk frowned slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing. "He hates the Evercrest family?"
Seraphina gave a humorless, cold smile. "Even my father believed his lies. Everyone thought he was serious about marrying me. But it was all a game to him—a cruel, elaborate game."
She reached for another glass of wine, her fingers trembling slightly.
As the alcohol touched her lips, she realized why so many found comfort in it.
The sweet burn spread through her chest, dulling the sharp ache of humiliation and betrayal.
The pain of the night blurred, fading into a distant corner of her mind.
With every sip, her cheeks flushed faintly, and the stiffness in her shoulders eased.
She felt lighter, freer, even as her voice softened to a whisper. "It's all lies… everything. A web of lies…"
Was it fate that had deceived her, or was it Lysander himself?
Time and again, life seemed determined to shatter her hopes. Why was she never allowed to reach for what she truly wanted?
Seraphina drained another glass, then another, her laughter soft but tinged with bitterness.
The sound wavered, almost breaking, as tears glistened in her eyes.
She laughed, she cried, and then, eventually, the world around her grew quiet.
By the time Emerys looked at her again, she had slumped over the table, her long, damp hair falling in soft waves over her pale, exposed shoulders.
Even in sleep, her brows knitted together, as if her dreams refused to release her from her worries.
For a long moment, Emerys just stared at her.
The dim candlelight flickered, casting shadows across her face, her tear-streaked cheeks illuminated in the soft glow.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, his hand moved toward her face.