Fantastic.
My heart does that annoying skip-a-beat thing, and I’m pretty sure my jaw hits the floor. In the daylight, his chiseled features are even more striking—like someone cranked up the “handsome” setting to max. His high cheekbones and strong jawline make his face look like it was sculpted by the gods themselves. His dark brown curls, which shimmered in the moonlight, now catch the room’s light, revealing subtle hues of chestnut. Broad shoulders, muscular build—check and check. There’s an aura of power about him, but it’s the kind that comes with sharp edges, something dangerous lurking beneath the surface.
If he recognizes me, he doesn’t show it. His expression is masked, unreadable, his hands casually tucked in his pockets like he’s just out for a stroll. I don’t know why, or what I expected—maybe a flicker of recognition, a spark of something familiar—but the indifference in his gaze crushes my heart in a way Iwasn’t prepared for.
“Drystan!” Baron’s voice snaps through the tension, a mix of surprise and annoyance. “What is the meaning of this?”
The man, Drystan, smirks. His gaze locking onto Baron with the kind of amusement that says, “I’m about to ruin your day.”
“Tsk, tsk, Baron. Planning power moves, are we?”
Behind these two, guards come running in, clearly flustered and not exactly looking their best. “We’re sorry, Your Majesty,” one of them stammers. “They just showed up unannounced, and we couldn’t stop them.”
Baron’s eyes flick to the guards, then back to Drystan. “You have no right to barge in here, Drystan,” he says, voice cold and controlled, though the restrained fury is evident. “You’re out of line.”
Drystan laughs, the sound rich with mockery. “Oh, Baron, rights are for those who can enforce them. You should know that by now.”
His eyes shift to me, and a slow smirk spreads across his face. “And who might this be?”
Baron’s expression tightens, a clear sign he’s not in the mood for this. “This is a guest.”
“Interesting.” Drystan’s smirk widens, his gaze flicking back to me. “I’m assuming this guest was responsible for that power surge the other night? Very interesting that she’s here with you now, isn’t it? I’m sure that’s quite the story.”
As Drystan’s eyes give me a once-over, I suddenly feel like I need another one of those magical baths. “I must say, for that amount of power felt,” he drawls, “I was expecting…more.”
Lovely. Nothing like being evaluated like livestock at a market. Behind him, the mysterious man remains silent, his eyes flickering briefly in my direction before sweeping over the room. He seems more like an observer than a participant, yet I can’t shake the feeling that his indifference is just a mask forsomething far more calculating.
Baron’s patience is clearly fraying, his tone rigid. “Evangeline is under my protection, Drystan. Whatever business you have can wait.”
Drystan doesn’t back down. Stepping closer, his eyes fixed on me like I’m the only thing in the room that matters. “Oh, I think this is the perfect time, Baron. Power of this magnitude should not be left unchecked. Don’t you think we deserve some answers?” His gaze narrows on me. “How did you manage to unleash the aether within the wards? That’s not supposed to be possible.”
The man beside Drystan finally speaks, his tone calm but laced with subtle mockery. “Curious, isn’t it, Baron? Such a remarkable event, and yet… not a word to us beforehand. Makes one wonder what else you’re keeping to yourself.”
That’s all it takes to set Garet off. His hand flies to the hilt of his sword, eyes blazing. “Shut the fuck up, Callon,” he snaps, clearly enraged.
And that’s how I learn his name—Callon.
The tension between them crackles, so thick it feels like the room might explode at any second. I glance at Garet, whose fury is barely restrained, then at Callon, who meets Garet’s rage with an infuriatingly calm expression, as though he’s enjoying this little power play. It’s clear that whatever hatred exists between these two goes far beyond this moment.
Callon chuckles softly, his voice dripping with disdain. “Calm down, Garet. Threats are only effective if the person making them doesn’t look like a petulant child.” His eyes flick toward me, a slow, measured glance that sends an uneasy shiver down my spine. “Besides, I’d hate for your guest here to get the wrong impression of how things are handled in Astermiri.”
Garet’s grip tightens on his sword, his knuckles white with tension. “You don’t get to talk to me like that, Callon.”
I glance at Leigh, who stands nearby, her eyes wide with shock and concern. There’s clearly some history here that I’m completely in the dark about. The way Leigh keeps glancing at Callon… it’s almost as if she’s afraid of him?
Meanwhile, Baron regards Drystan with a measured expression, clearly ignoring the other two as if they’re mere background noise. “Eva’s abilities are her own concern, and she is under my protection.”
Drystan’s smile doesn’t waver for a second. “Of course, Baron.” He looks at me one last time, his eyes gleaming with interest. “I look forward to hearing your story.”
Baron straightens in his seat, scanning the room as if gauging everyone’s reactions before focusing back on Drystan. “In three days’ time, during the Lunar Eclipse, Eva will demonstrate her power. Additionally, we will officially announce the engagement between Garet and Eva.”
Callon’s mask of indifference slips just for a moment, his eyes widening in genuine surprise before he quickly recovers. His voice drips with sarcasm as he says, “Ah, that must have been what you were so intensely discussing when we walked in. Quite the strategic move, Baron.”
Drystan’s calm facade cracks, his eyes narrowing in anger. “Rushing into this, aren’t we?”
Garet, of course, smirks, clearly relishing the reaction. “It’s already decided, Drystan. Eva will be mine, and her power will be a part of Astermiri’s.”
Drystan leans forward, arms crossed, and with a biting edge to his voice says, “Because the first one worked out so well for you. Who’s going to die this time?”