Astrid stood with her arms crossed, crimson eyes locked onto the healer's back like a blade at his throat.
The man worked in tense silence, carefully wrapping the last of Lucius' wounds. When he finally finished, he exhaled in quiet relief before turning to face her.
"My Queen," he began, bowing low, "the prince's regenerative abilities are remarkable. The primary concern now is his severe blood loss."
Astrid said nothing. She simply watched.
The healer hesitated before pressing on. "The reason he collapsed stems from a combination of blood loss, exhaustion, mental strain, and could possibly…" He faltered.
Astrid arched a brow.
The healer swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper.
"...deteriorate further."
A soft moan broke the silence.
Astrid's eyes flicked to Lucius as he stirred, his body shifting restlessly against the sheets.
The healer stiffened when her gaze returned to him, sharp and expectant.
Forcing a smile more pitiful than a man on death row, he quickly bent over Lucius, pretending to be far more focused than he actually was.
Astrid remained silent, her expression unreadable—but beneath that mask, her teeth pressed into her lower lip.
Her gaze traced the marks left by the whip, even though the wounds had long since healed. The scene replayed in her mind, each lash sharper, each cry more unbearable. With every passing second, her eyes darkened, her rage curling like a beast in her chest.
The healer, still sweating buckets, dared not look up.
He could feel it.
The storm was coming.
Astrid's heels clicked against the marble, each step slow, deliberate. The air in the chamber grew colder, heavier, as she neared the bed.
The healer stiffened, his hands trembling as he worked. Lucius lay oblivious, his brow furrowed, lips parting in incomprehensible murmurs.
Astrid halted behind the healer.
Then—whoosh.
Her hand shot out.
The healer flinched violently, his hand jerking against Lucius' bandages. A pained groan escaped the prince's lips, his body tensing even in sleep.
But Astrid's fingers never touched him.
Instead, she plucked a needle from the tray beside him with calculated ease, twirling it between her fingers. Slowly. Purposefully.
Her gaze flicked to the healer.
"Pathetic."
The single word cut sharper than a blade.
The healer swallowed hard, his face ashen.
Without sparing him another glance, Astrid turned to the assembled maids.
"You are all dismissed."
Her tone left no room for argument.
They fled without hesitation.
Astrid stood motionless, her crimson gaze locked onto her son's unconscious form, unreadable.
"Leave."
The healer flinched, staring at her in confusion.
"Your tools too."
Her voice was calm, but there was no room for argument.
The healer hesitated, trembling.
"Your Majesty, we can't leave him unattended—"
Astrid paused at the doorway, her back still to him.
"Someone…" she exhaled sharply, eyes flickering to Lucius before letting out a quiet, frustrated sigh.
"…objectively pleasant will arrive soon."
Without another word, she resumed walking.
The healer swallowed hard but didn't argue, quickly gathering his things before following after her.
At the entrance, Astrid came to a sudden stop. Her gaze flicked toward a nearby pillar.
With a flick of her wrist, the needle between her fingers shot forward, embedding itself into the pillar's center with pinpoint precision.
The healer nearly jumped out of his skin.
Astrid scoffed, heels clicking against the floor as she strode away, the terrified healer scrambling after her.
Silence settled once more.
Then, cautiously, a head of ash-black hair peeked out from behind the pillar.
[Host.]
Alexia rolled her eyes. "I get it, Hermes."
Still, her gaze lingered on Astrid's retreating figure, unreadable.
She bit her lip.
Then, without hesitation, she sprinted toward the room.
She stepped into the room, her gaze immediately landing on Lucius. The sharp scent of blood and medicine made her nose wrinkle in distaste.
Something soft brushed against her ankle.
She tensed, glancing down—only to find that infuriating black menace.
Inferno.
"Meow."
The cat licked his bloodstained lips, utterly unbothered, before sauntering toward Lucius with the grace of a ruler inspecting his domain.
Alexia closed her eyes. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.
Then—
"Meow."
Followed by the sharp crash of shattering glass.
Her eye twitched.
"Inferno—"
"Meow."
Of course.
Alexia lunged forward just as the little menace reached for Lucius' bandages.
Inferno, completely unfazed, gave her a slow, unimpressed blink before casually dragging a single claw across Lucius' exposed shoulder.
Lucius merely sighed in his sleep, shifting slightly but otherwise unbothered.
Inferno tilted his head, seemingly evaluating the results, then gave a small, satisfied nod.
"Meow."
Alexia stared. First at the cat. Then at Lucius. Then back at the cat.
Her eye twitched.
Slowly, a sweet, utterly untrustworthy smile spread across her face.
"Meow?" she echoed.
And then—she yeeted him across the room.
Landing gracefully on his feet, Inferno hissed, golden eyes gleaming with unspoken menace.
Alexia stiffened, a chill creeping down her spine, but she refused to back down.
Across the room, Lucius muttered weakly in his sleep. "Oh gods..."
Inferno flicked his tail, unimpressed, and turned away with a dignified huff, casually licking his paw like nothing had happened.
"Meow."
Alexia narrowed her eyes and stepped back, settling onto the bed beside Lucius.
"Meow to you too," she muttered, shaking her head as she turned her attention to Lucius' condition.
A sigh. A pause.
"Damn cat."
"Meow," Inferno replied smugly.
"You—ouch!" Alexia hissed, eyes snapping to the bloodstained hand gripping hers like a lifeline.
"Lucius—"
No response. Just an unexpected burst of strength as he yanked her onto the bed.
"Mm." He hummed, arms locking around her, face buried in the crook of her neck. Alexia stiffened.
"I was helping," she muttered, thoroughly unimpressed.
Lucius, in response? He just sniffed her. Then held her even tighter, clinging like a damn human teddy bear.
"Meow."
Alexia's eye twitched. Inferno stretched leisurely from his spot, golden eyes practically smirking.
Before she could wring the life out of that insufferable cat, Lucius shifted against her, his lips brushing her skin.
"Lex..." he sighed, voice low and drowsy. Then—a slow taste.
[Host. Still just 'off'?]
Alexia refused to answer.
Maybe it had something to do with the very concerning sensation on her neck.
"I was right," Lucius murmured, mouthing at her pulse like it was his birthright.
"Sister tastes... sweet."
Her eye twitched. "What—"
A pause.
A lazy, lingering bite.
"OW!"
Alexia jolted, but the menace only clung tighter.
Like a starving leech.
She inhaled. Exhaled. Inhaled again.
Then—Bang.
Lucius hit the floor hard, a groan slipping past his lips as fresh blood darkened his bandages.
He blinked blearily up at her, dazed.
Then, somehow, still managed to smirk.
"Worth… it."
And just like that, he was out cold.
Alexia sat on the bed, staring.
She exhaled sharply. Turned toward the door.
Paused.
Glanced at the boy bleeding out on her floor.
Sighed.
Glanced at the smug cat, who was—yes—definitely cackling.
Her jaw tightened. Fingers brushed her neck. She shivered, lips pressing together.
"So weird."
But no matter how much she wanted to ignore it, the alarming amount of blood pooling beneath him made that impossible.
[Host, morality is subjective.]
Alexia groaned, dragging a hand down her face.
Then, with another sigh, she stood.
She looked at him. Her hand twitched toward her neck—then stopped. Exhale.
She shut her eyes. When they reopened, determination replaced hesitation.
Grabbing him by the leg, she hauled him onto the bed, barely sparing him a glance as she redid his bandages.
When she was done, she stepped back, arms crossed, studying her work.
A glance at Inferno. No words. Just movement.
She walked to the door. Paused.
Her gaze flicked to the pool of blood.
Inferno pounced.
Alexia forced herself to look away, shutting the door with a quiet click.
On the bed, Lucius' fingers twitched, searching. Finding nothing.
His eyes snapped open, breath uneven.
Then he saw it—the blood.
Inferno lapped it up lazily, mocking.
Lucius' chest rose and fell. His pulse pounded in his ears.
"It did happen..." he whispered.
Then his he licked his lips as they curved into a slow smile.
He jumped up from his bed, ignoring the pain he grabbed an unwilling inferno.
" It did happen." He said with barely contained excitement.
"Be unreadable, be polite, be charismatic, be their desire."
The cold voice rang in his mind, like a timely reminder.
Lucius froze, then curbed his excitement.
Smoothly he dropped inferno on the ground.
" What a pity. I might have annoyed sister." His warm smile returned as he settled on his bed.
***
Alexia lay in bed, motionless, staring at the ceiling.
"Hermes, what's the quest about?"
[Host doesn't want to stay with her family anymore?]
Her eye twitched. "What's. The. Damn. Quest. About."
[After tomorrow, Host.]
A pause. "Why?"
[Tomorrow is your birthday, Host.]
Alexia groaned, dragging a pillow over her face. Maybe if she held it there long enough, she'd suffocate out of existence.
Then—she caught a scent. Unfamiliar. Wrong.
Her eyes snapped open. She flung the pillow aside.
"It's too early for this."
[Host, it's just your brother's—oh, my bad. That was inappropriate.]
Another groan. She slapped a hand over her face, muffling a muttered, "I hate it here. I hate all of you."
[Oh? So Host hates her brother?]
Her hand slid down. "Hermes, what are you implying?"
[That Host should learn a mythical thing called boundaries.]
"He's going to come back, isn't he?" Alexia muttered, already dreading the answer.
[Affirmative, Host. You have ten minutes.]
"Perfect." She grinned—then bolted.
[Ten.]
She tore open her wardrobe, yanked out the first dress she saw, and sprinted toward the bathroom.
[Nine.]
Water exploded from the basin. Clothes everywhere.
[Eight.]
"Ow! My eyes!" She scrubbed at them furiously.
[Seven.]
"For the love of Lugus—" SPLASH.
[Six.]
She staggered out of the bathroom, dripping, but dressed. A miracle.
[Five.]
Boots—where the hell were her—ah! She crammed them onto her feet, half-hopping in a frantic dance.
[Four.]
The balcony. That was it. That was her salvation.
[Three.]
She unlocked it. Slipped outside. Locked it from the outside.
[Two.]
One deep breath—then she jumped.
[One.]
She hit the ground, rolled, and sprinted.
[Host.]
"What, Hermes?!" she panted, heart pounding.
[Don't look behind you.]
Her steps faltered. A chill ran down her spine. Slowly—stupidly—she glanced back.
Big mistake.
Warm arms wrapped around her in an instant, yanking her against a firm chest. A familiar, infuriatingly amused voice murmured in her ear—
"Where are you running to, sister?"
Alexia froze.
Out. In the open. Daylight. People watching.
Her face burned.
"Lucius," she hissed, struggling, "it's broad daylight!"
"Mm," he hummed, completely unbothered. His grip tightened, a quiet chuckle ghosting against her ear.
Alexia wanted to scream.
Hermes? Hermes was no help.
[Congratulations, Host. You have failed successfully.]