It was an unfamiliar room—shrouded in darkness. Suddenly, a man leaned over Aria, his breath hot against her skin. His hands pinned her gently, yet firmly, and before she could react—
He kissed her.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured against her lips.
But Aria couldn't speak. Her body refused to move, caught between fear and something she didn't understand.
His lips trailed to her neck, his voice rough against her ear. "Still not saying anything?"
"Stop… ahh—!"
She jolted awake with a sharp gasp, clutching her sheets as sweat clung to her skin.
The door flew open.
"My lady!" Annie rushed in, her voice laced with concern. "Are you alright? I heard a scream!"
Aria looked around, disoriented, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "It was… just a bad dream."
A dream that had felt too real.
She shook it off and let Annie help her get dressed. By the time she reached the dining hall, the morning sun had already climbed high. Theo and Abigel were already seated, breakfast half-eaten. The warmth of the hearth couldn't thaw the strange chill she still felt in her bones.
Abigel's gaze lingered on her. "Are you alright, Aria?"
"I'm fine," she said, a little too quickly.
Then, after a pause, she asked, "Did either of you see someone recently in the northern town patrols? A tall man—blue eyes, sharp jaw, wheat-toned skin? Not from our kingdom, probably a traveller or a merchant?"
Theo lowered his spoon.
Abigel frowned. "No. Nothing was reported."
Aria met both their gazes, then looked down at her plate.
The silence that followed was thick with suspicion.
Theo's eyes narrowed. "Why are you asking?"
"No reason," she lied, voice soft. "Just curious. Might've seen someone interesting."
Neither of them believed her, but they didn't press. The air at the table was no longer relaxed tension had begun curling through it like smoke.
That night, Aria slipped through the shadows again. Her cloak fluttered behind her like a silent ghost, her steps light on the cold ground. But before she reached the usual path—
A tall figure stepped into her way.
"Where do you think you're going?"It was Abigel.
Aria blinked, stunned. "You—how did you…?"
"I'll come with you," he said simply, stepping closer, his voice calm but firm.
She opened her mouth to argue, but he beat her to it with a soft chuckle. "Did you really think Father and I didn't notice you sneaking out? The Black Knights aren't that easy to fool."
Aria sighed and looked away, caught.
"Then why didn't you say anything?" she muttered.
Abigel shrugged. "Because… I used to sneak out too. I know what it means when someone avoids questions and slips away at night. I figured you had your reasons. But now… I want to help."
She hesitated, then looked into his eyes—sincere, steady.
"I traced a curse near the border two nights ago," Aria finally admitted. "But when I got close, I lost it."
Abigel's expression turned serious. "That's unusual. You said it was near the border?"
She nodded.
He stepped aside, gesturing down the trail. "Then let's search together tonight. If it's real, we'll find it.
"Let's just find the curse."
Abigel fell into step beside her.
Theo's voice echoed in Abigel's mind: "Find the guy. I don't want anyone wandering near Aria."
Father's getting more protective, Abigel thought, casting a sidelong glance at Aria. Not that I can blame him.
As the two entered the dimly lit inn, Abigel's hand instinctively moved to his sword. The moment his eyes landed on the man sitting leisurely by the corner table, his grip tightened.
The man, dressed in black with that same sharp jaw and piercing blue eyes, smiled lazily as if he'd been waiting.
Abigel drew his sword in one swift motion. "Is this the guy you were talking about, Aria?"
The man tilted his head, unbothered. "Whoa… you talked about me? I expected to see you alone, sweetheart."
Aria's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to go back?"
"How could I leave," the man said smoothly, rising to his feet, "when the thing I want is still right here?"
Then, with a movement too quick for a normal human, he appeared behind Aria again, close enough that his breath brushed her ear.
"Is this your lover? Hmm… now I'm really hurt."
But before Aria could react, it was Abigel who moved.
His aura surged, a cold, dangerous pressure slamming into the air as he kicked the man across the room—sending him crashing into a table with a loud thud. Chairs toppled. Dust rose.
"Touch her again, and I'll break your arm next time," Abigel growled.
The man only chuckled as he sat up, rubbing his jaw. "Feisty. You people from the North really don't do small talk, huh?"
Aria stepped forward, ignoring him. "Abigel, don't waste energy on trash. We came here for the curse."
"OH," the man called from the floor, brushing wood splinters off his coat. "You're looking for the curse too? Then we might be after the same thing."
He stood, brushing his hair back. "I've been tracking it for three days now. It was here last night. Left a trace on the floor—must've forgotten to erase it."
Aria glanced at the worn floorboards—and sure enough, faint sigils shimmered for a second under her golden aura.
She nodded silently to Abigel.
Her eyes slid back to the man. "So… you lied."
Aria placed her hand on the faint trace and channelled her golden aura. Within seconds, a glowing thread unravelled from the floor, slithering forward like a living guide.
"There," she pointed. "Let's go."
They followed the golden thread in swift silence until it stopped near an unsuspecting man—ordinary-looking, dressed like a Northern local. Yet something felt... wrong.
"The curse is using him as a vessel," the man said, stepping beside her.
She raised her hand again. The golden thread lashed forward, wrapping the man in glowing bonds. With a soft pulse of her aura, he collapsed unconscious.
"He'll be out for an hour," Aria confirmed.
The stranger stared at her with wide eyes. "I've never seen golden aura in person before…"
Abigel, however, wasn't impressed. His black shadow aura erupted without warning, slamming the man into the wall with suffocating force.
"Who are you?" Abigel demanded, voice low and dangerous.
A ripple of power surged in response—wine red, thick with heat and rage. The air trembled. The stranger's playful smile twisted into something far darker.
"And who are you to order me?" he growled, his aura roaring outward.
But Abigel didn't back down. His own aura intensified, shadows writhing at his feet like living smoke.
"This is the North," he snapped. "So I'll ask you again—who are you?"
Before the clash could erupt further, a sharp voice rang out.
"Your Highness, stop this madness!"
Another man sprinted into view, breathless, bowing low. The wine-red aura faded instantly, retreating like a tide. The prince rolled his neck with a sigh.
"Oops. My bad," he said casually, then turned to Aria, unaffected by the tension. "You're always so calm. I like that."
Abigel's glare didn't waver.
The newcomer who had shouted stepped forward. "Young Duke, please forgive His Highness. We are from Ashkalon. This is the second prince."
Aria blinked. "Prince…?"
The man gave her a wink.
"Second Prince of Ashkalon, at your service. I came to request the Northern Kingdom's assistance."