𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐓𝐘 ━ 𝚠𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚙.

Chapter 23.

(No matter how much his mind drifted to empty eyes and smokey black fingers; how his thoughts couldn't help but seethe in vicious anger at the mere hint of him being somebody's beloved puppet.)

He supposed that, by having that slice of peace offered to him, he'd grown complacent in his musings. He allowed his mind to flow freely, unrestrained by his iron grip, and it had cost him. Dearly.

Waking up in the dead of night, gasping and panting and sweating and crying一 a shameful sight to any that he did not trust. But even then, embarrassment burned within him when he recalled Kassian and Hector fussing over him as he stared into the dancing flames of the fire place, face tearstained and tired eyes puffy.

(He must have looked like quite the sight.)

They hadn't asked what was wrong, and he felt grateful for the respect they gave his privacy, but thoughts lingered. They festered and grew, and they ate at him as days passed. The feeling of imbalance within him 一that sense of aimless drifting that held him captive一 it kept him wary and tired, more so than usual.

For a while, turmoil had reigned within his mind. A silent war between past and present waging in the depths of his soul. How pathetic of him, he'd though many a times, to have ignored all that bothered him. It had been... difficult to accept that he was not happy, nor content with the way that he was. With the way he ignored his own needs and feelings. (No一 more accurate it would be to say that Ye-Jun was not satisfied with the way that Athan was.)

He smiled ruefully, remembering the night he'd locked himself in his room with Biyakko as his only companion. The silence and the quiet support his beast had offered had been like a balm to his battered soul. His familiar had always stood by his side and that night had made him realize that he did not treasure the mana beast enough. Not nearly as much as he should.

It saddened him, to come to the conclusion that the most long-standing and trustful presence in his life was a beast who could not speak of his secrets. Had he become so skewed? And if so, when?

There were many things that he held no hope to change about himself. He was too distrustful of many that approached him. A childhood spent weaving through and avoiding scheeming nobles and much too frequent assassinations had taught him that being closed off gave him better chances at survival. And how sad that was, for him to truly believe that any who came to him had secondary motivations.

Every person in his inner circle had been hand picked by himself, cajoled into coming to his side over long periods of time and grueling verbal sparing. But he liked the people that followed him. From the shenanigans of his knights and the slyness of his uncle and spies, to the cold calculativeness of his aide and mage. Even the familial love that his sword and retainer gave him without question 一 it made him feel undeserving of such loyalties, but all the more determined. Determined to prove to these people that their faith was not misplaced and that their presence was precious to him.

He truly treasured them, and this two year long separation had made him feel a gaping void in his heart from the distance put in between them. He missed the radiance that they brought to his dull days and having just his knights by his side made him feel discontented. As if tilted off axis.

There was greed within him, and he hoarded interesting people with the tenacity of a dragon. If anything, that just proved how much he resembled his father.

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THE WOMAN BEFORE HER SMILED, but that smile was laced with poison, lips coloured blood red and their owner wore it like war paint. Make-up simple yet striking, clothes of fine quality yet of forgettable design and hair shining healthily, but lacking in any accessories. This woman一 this woman was dangerous, she concluded.