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          "Raven, the man up there on the throne is the King of Purebloods, Lord Amon. Treat him with exceptional respect. And the boy next to him is our little prince, say hi," a demure woman told her child. She was dolled up in a velvety fabric decorated with bloody roses that matched the ruby red gem around her neck. The man alongside them chivalrously offered a hand to his wife as they walked up towards the royal family.

          "Hi," the little girl demurely waved at the prince. "I'm Raven."

          His features showed no signs of amusement; to the point where it was a bit too inapproachable for a kid. "Cross Red. Pleased to meet you, Raven Rose, daughter of Pureblood Freya and half-breed."

          So formal, she thought internally. "Actually, just Raven."

          "I see. Pleased to meet you, Just Raven," he repeated. She couldn't quite tell if he was being serious or not.

          "No, Father doesn't like it when we're referred to as the Rose family."

          He pauses, riveting his eyes to meet hers. "Just Raven, then."

          She nods. "How old are you?"

         "Șaizeci."

          "Oh, Raven's douăzeci," she smiles, holding out five fingers. He nods, clearly uninterested. Attempting to break the blank look on his face, she starts, "Knock knock."

          He stares right through her, unsure of her motives.
          She frowns, mockingly saying, "Who's there?"
          She clears her throat as he raises an eyebrow, showing the slightest bit of amusement, rousing her. "Raven."

          She opened her mouth to pretend-reply to herself until a voice beat her to it, "Raven who?"

          Surprised, her eyes lit up exquisitely as he blushed in possible embarrassment from playing a child's game. She giggled, ecstatically. "Raven lunatic if you don't open the door!"

          "Let's go, Raven," Father urged.

          "I have to go. See you, Cross!"

          Raven awoke, her dream as vivid as day. Rubbing the dry stains of tears on her cheeks from the night before, she was left with the lonely feeling of detachment, left to explore in the empty void of emotions. Her legs hugged up to her chest, body curled up in a ball, she felt the daunting melancholia return. The antique clock hung beside the door signified that it was quarter to ten. She sighed, yet again unsure of the nychthemeron.

          A sudden presence in the room startled her as she inhaled the scent she could recognize from miles away.

          "Hey."

          "Are you still mad?" she asked in a barley audible tone, fiddling with her fingers.

          He sighed. "Let's get some fresh air."

          Her eyes widened, gleaming in excitement. "What? Really?"

          His expression softened, nodding.

          She abruptly got up from her crouched position. "I'm ready, let's go!"

          "You'll catch a cold if you don't put a hood on."

          "Isn't that physically impossible for us, though?" she queried, nonetheless grabbing her hood from the rack.

          Cross led her up the flight of stairs she's seen before, squinting from the growing light

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          Cross led her up the flight of stairs she's seen before, squinting from the growing light. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, guiding her to the outside world.

It's her. What's her relationship with our Lord?
Shut up, the Lord forbade questions.

          They were back. The voices. She was greeted with the flashing glares from an abundant pair of eyes. Her pupils stung from the sudden raid of brightness which she wasn't accustomed to. Her legs began moving from the support of his arm as she kept her head low.

          "Ignore them," he whispered especially to her ear. "Raise your head, Raven Rose."

          She did as she was told, thinking that she heard him wrong. Slowly, she lifted her head to meet some confused and some alarmed faces. Oddly enough, ignoring their voices was easier done when commanded by him.

          When her bare feet finally touched the snowy ground for the first time in a long time, her face lit up, an irresistibly delighted expression taking over the previously tensed one. The same feeling she got when she first drank from Cross, filled her insides. It distressed him to see that she still had the heart and soul of a little girl.

          "It's snowing," she shrieked in bliss. "Come on, Cross!"

          At the moment, nothing else mattered. Not her unfamiliarity of the crowd, nor the voices. She grabbed his fingers and pulled him towards the woods, engulfed under the canopy of white trees. She stuck her hand out, attempting to catch a snowflake but frowns instead when it disappeared into her skin.

          He took a step towards her. "That's just how winter raindrops work, Raven. You can only admire their beauty, but never get too close."

          His words cast an indistinguishable expression as she attempted to decipher whether or not he meant that in another way. Also, where has she heard that before?

          Acknowledging the look of perplexity on her face, he called, "Raven."

          "I'm overwhelmed to be able to share this moment with you," she grins, brushed it off and focusing on the fairness of the gloomy sky. "What're those?"

          "Snowflakes fall from those things called clouds."

          She gasped, "I think I found the perfect storage for my snowflakes, Prince Cross."
He stared at her serenely, smiling ever so faintly at the way she called him 'Prince Cross' out of habit. His smile quickly disappeared as soon as it came, when she stopped dead in her tracks, mindlessly questioning, "That's weird. Aren't you gonna tell me it's impossible?"

          Her chest felt heavy and her mind was clouded all over again. How'd I know it was impossible?
          There was one conclusion she could think of; one she didn't want to believe. All signs of earlier felicity vanished from her features as she whispered, "Did you toy with my memories?"

          "This was supposed to be a special day." He let out a half-hearted smile as he continued, "I've committed countless sins against you, Raven, there's an extent to how much you can forgive me. I think it's time you―"

          "It pains me to hear that you doubt my love for you. You're permitted to do anything to me, my Lord. You own me, in a way. Both my heart and soul belongs to you."

          He swallowed, eyes gleaming with hidden agony. "Even if I told you that I'm responsible for the death of your parents?"

 "Even if I told you that I'm responsible for the death of your parents?"

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