Chapter Forty-Eight ۞ Alone

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Corvan threw over a red coat with golden trimmings. It had tassels on the shoulders and a high collar framed by a cravat with a small jewel nestled between its elegant folds. He tugged on the cuffs and folded them once, lining up the row of flat, golden buttons and slipping them into place. He donned black slacks tucked into a pair of boots and pulled back his hair into a high ponytail.

It had been quite a while--two years at the most--since he wore and sported the trademark color of his continent. It was strange to see himself finally return to the image of the young lord he was. He had assumed a different appearance and style after entering the academy. The change was very drastic he barely recognized himself.

From the bright ruby red came a color of royal blue and the flamboyant manner of dressing came to be sacrificed for a more convenient getup.

He needed bring nothing except himself, and hopefully, a companion.

If Valeriana was to not show, then things would be disastrous--not something he couldn't handle, hopefully. Even so, everything would go smoothly with her by his side. He wouldn't be able to fool his family so easily, yet, it was not wrong to try.

It was quarter to midnight when he got to the portals, but Valeriana had yet to come. He felt his stomach turn queasily, a small rush of fear and anticipation being struck into him at the thought of her not being present to accompany him back to his lands. As sudden as it was, he needed her help. He would not be able to depend on anyone else except for the girl.

The young lord stood with clenched fists and tense muscles. Mentally, he was cursing and pleading the stupid witch to come.

Time ticked by slowly. A small drop of sweat trailed down his forehead.

He stood rigidly, glancing at the clock tower standing high amongst the towering buildings that seemed to reach the sky. It was dark out, but the clock glowed a golden hue. The portal before him was a huge door, which seemed unbelievably bigger than it was normally.

Two minutes to midnight.

He gritted his teeth in irritation. He hated feeling this way--to depend on someone else for help and assistance. It grated on his pride and egocentrism. Her resistance itself was an irksome boundary not to mention the mouth of hers she could not control.

He himself did not know what came over him that he did what he did. The Wylden Cosmos was a ring he had spent the last two years trying to find.

Thirty seconds to midnight.

The path leading to him was devoid of presence, nothing but hanging lamps and a blanket of darkness for miles and he managed a rueful smile that signified his bitterness more than anything else. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard.

Yes, he had been a jerk. He clearly deserved this.

10.

Still . . .

"I should've known . . ." Corvan sighed and prepared to enter by himself.

9.

He reached out for the knob and said aloud, "To the Ember Palace in Farstead, heart of the Arlandian Continent."

8.

It clicked and he took his first step forward. It was the sight of his home. Home.

7.

This was a dreaded homecoming. Not exactly something he looked forward to.

6.

The lingering hesitation at the back of his mind made him pause. He erased any trace of it on his face and firmly pulled his mask over.

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