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Peeling my eyelids open was like trying to unstick two pieces of glued paper

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Peeling my eyelids open was like trying to unstick two pieces of glued paper. When the bright light hit my face, I moaned deeper into the springy bed. My head pounded prompting another moan. This mortal jump was shaping up to be the largest disaster. I had never felt so ill in my life.

"Ella, sit up, you need to refuel."

I moaned again into the bed. Herc sighed above me, clearly annoyed. I didn't care. My entire body felt like it was trampled on by various raedas. I was not in the best condition to be anywhere far from home, but there I was, in a place with no magic, ill.

The last thing I needed was to weaken my inhibitions and break the masking spell. If it weren't for the medallion, my secret would have been out by now. If I kept getting worse, the Bleeders would surely know they were in the presence of a royal.

Oh Gracious, my medallion!

I tightened my fists only to dig my fingernails into my palms. I opened my eyes in a panic. My hands went down to my pockets, where I felt the circumference of the medallion from under the material. I traced it with a finger and sighed.

I was safe.

"Ella." He shook my shoulder, so I turned my head to him. Squinting up at him proved to double the pain, so I rose from the bed, careful not to stab myself with the hard springs.

"Where are the others?" I asked, looking around at the foreign bedroom.

Light illuminated from numerous lamps. The wallpaper was faded, some areas were in shreds. The floor was carpeted, but it was a dingy, brick red color. There was another bed on the other side, looking just as uncomfortable as the one I was on. There was a weird black box on top of a desk at the far end, facing the beds. I could see my reflection through it as I turned to see Herc, staring at me.

"Everyone went out to hang out for a bit. I stayed to keep an eye on you."

"Oh."

"Here. I grabbed this for you on our way here. I figured you were a sweets type of girl." He handed over a brown paper bag. I frowned but accepted.

When I opened the bag, the smell of cinnamon wafted over my nose delicately. I couldn't help but tear up.

Ever since I was a little girl, Father would always sneak in cinnamon bread behind Mother's back. She didn't want me to eat too many sweets, as it could lead to complicated health conditions in the future, but Father wanted me to have a normal diet. It was like a game we played. It was the only time he wasn't the big bad king of Potentia Flamber. He was my father.

I pulled out the cinnamon muffin as a tear rolled down my cheek. I chuckled and wiped it with the side of my shoulder.

"Sorry, I...thank you, Herc."

"Didn't know a muffin would make you cry," he said.

"It reminded me of my childhood." I turned to him, finding him analyzing me with his dark eyes. "My father would always give me cinnamon bread behind my mother's back. Mother would get pissed when she found out."

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