Before I can speak, this person asks me, their voice trembling, “Why are you here?” “I am lost,” I say. “I don’t know where to go or whence I came. Can you show me the way?” I pause. “Or could it be that you have been here for so long you have forgotten to find your way out? Why are…

Çetžak swallows thickly. It’s true he has already seen much more of the adorable butterfly he does now, but seeing them modestly dressed does numbers to his heart. It’s one thing in the dimness of everything else, but now that they are seated in the light of the lanterns, he can see the golden eyes through the veil. He can see the expanse of skin right below the person’s Adam’s apple, while the fingers peek out of their sleeves.

Laž’ar smiles, trying to hide the chaos within. He didn’t expect these sudden advances, but he can still see the General is respectful of him. Then he feels his smile fade, even as he tries to force the corners up. The eyes of the General do not include the hunger of men wishing for what they cannot afford, men trying to play a game with him, hoping to receive what they want with less.

Thadus had never visited a mortal market previously. He had only just entered the market district of the city-state of Rockforge, and yet he could already tell that this was not only an unreasonably c...

Laž’ar grabs the fan next to him and hides his laugh behind it. “My lord thinks so, too?” The General picks up his cup. “What are you even supposed to be blessed with?” He sounds exasperated, more like a long-time friend lamenting about poor fortune than a stranger commenting on a peculiarity. To add to this image, he empties his cup.

When music begins playing, the patrons fall quiet. Çetžak, who has kept his gaze down, uninterested in those around him, other than to make conversation with his subordinates, finally raises his gaze once more. He’s picked up from passing workers that some local young master who frequents these kinds of places has come by, and he’s considered more or less a local lord of the Emerald Silk District.

Quick Info Word Count: 12.8k+ Status: Completed Started: 2022 (drafted) 2023 (published) Completed: 2022 (drafted) 2023 (published) Age Rating: 12+ Genres: Paranormal Original: Blood of Destinies Rewr...

Quick Info Word Count: 7.2k+ Status: Completed Started: October 2022 (drafted) October 2026 (published) Completed: 2022 (drafted) October 2026 (published) Age Rating: 15+ Genres: Historical Original: ...

Before the enormous door had slowly swung open in full, the sharp sound of heel hitting the wooden floor silenced the quiet murmurs. When my second step onto the landing echoed through the circular hall, the sea of students stilled. My hair flowed in the draft that ascended the stairs from the tall window by the lecturer’s stage. My third step followed, the clack against the stairs cutting through the silence for a moment.

The next day, Laž’ar woke up after another restless morning of sleep. He had had no luck, and he could only get up early. His mother was still asleep, her coughing light. He touched her forehead, and she was till a little warm. The unease from the day before had resurfaced, and he pressed his lips together. It didn’t matter what his mother thought of him, or what his divined name might be.

His Royal Highness remained silent as Çuiren looked down. The longer he stared at her, the more she had to force herself to stop trembling. The guard frowned as he saw this and whispered into the Prince’s ear. A hint of mischief flashed in his eyes when he looked back at his trusted guard’s handsome face. He then returned to his loftiness when he looked at the girl in front of him.

The Prince’s trusted guard was walking through the Imperial Palace. He had been stationed to patrol this day and heard from word of mouth about the invitation from Ažerlü-šanad, and then about the broken bowl. It was a shame neither he nor any of those of higher command were in charge of guarding U’il-šanad’s personal areas, because from what he had heard from his various sources of information around the Palaces, it had been chaotic.

After much thought she put the leaf in her mouth. It seemed like between one and the other, this was the better option. So far the Prince had never done anything to hurt her, and surely the guards wouldn’t have just let the imperial physician come to see her if the Prince didn’t call for him. She frowned at how bitter it was while chewing it.

Meanwhile, Çuiren was confined in her room, a guard outside of the door. She sat by the window, wondering how severe her punishment would be. But between the broken and disposed of bowl, and an accusations of assassination… Her hands tensed as she held them behind her back not to put them near her face, just to be on the safe side.

“His Royal Highness is returning!” Çuiren had just stepped into the servant quarters when a young boyservant came running excitedly. “His Royal Highness is returning!” he announced again before he hurried farther down the hall. The somewhat strangely languid air that she had stepped into instantaneously became a bustle as every servant set to work. Some busied themselves by hurrying over to the Prince’s chambers, others set to inform other areas what to do.

Laž’ar stepped out of his mother’s room without speaking to her again. He seldom had disagreements with his mother, since he would do what she asked of him almost regardless of what it was. He would gladly have married someone even if just as a concubine if his mother told him to. It wasn’t as if he had anything of value to lose, other than his mother.

The cook sleepily told him to go get the food himself. He huffed a laugh and went to the hall where the servants were arranging crafted flowers in vases. These maidservants, he knew, had all been children of the Pavillion once. He had also had to do similar tasks in the past, but the older he got, the less he did the work of a servant, aside from attending his mother.

Scents of incense and perfume lingered in the air of the hall. Sheer curtains hung down from the balcony of the second floor, dividing the main hall with the hallway leading to private rooms. Morning had yet to come, but servants where busying themselves with sweeping the floors and wiping tables, washing dishes and nibbling on food leftover by the guests and would go bad.

Rasmus figured as much. Although the information on the note stated she liked small animals, in the end, it was false. He shrugged. “Never mind.” He turned to find a better place to spend the remaining time of class. Without a timer to keep track of the time with, he figured it would be better to be somewhere where he could easily tell when class was over.

Edith looked at him in silence as he smiled at her, his dimples emerging, giving him a cute appearance with the light pink still dusting his cheeks from before. She played with her braid and looked down. “Do you hit on a girl every time you speak?” she asked. Rasmus was stunned into silence. “No…? Can’t I call you pretty?”

Rasmus turned to the girl behind him — the one with a crush. He leaned closer to her and smiled sweetly. “Hey, tell me how much time we got left of lunch break?” The girl looked at him like he was an idiot. Nonetheless, she checked her phone. “Ten minutes.” Rasmus thought. He was part of the Scenario, so he only had this short period of time left to class.

This time, the sound wasn’t quite real. He didn’t know why he knew he hadn’t actually heard it, but he just knew it was inside his head. That no one turned around to look at him this time was proof enough. He hadn’t turned on Do Not Disturb mode, since this phone didn’t seem to have that. Or even volume controls.

Rasmus raised an eyebrow and looked at his deskmate with a grin. He picked up the pink folded note. He held it up between his index and long fingers. “Proof,” he said. The chubby boy looked a little stunned. It was likely that this character Rasmus was supposed to be didn’t get many confessions. He seemed to be popular enough, but the description also stated “your classmates won’t lend you money” so to some degree he was also not particularly well-liked, or he was known to squander off to do other things with it.

[MISSION] No matter how he looked at the mission, it was odd. The goal was to get a bottle of juice within two hours, and he had to not only locate a girl, but also convince her to buy him something. While he pondered this, his supposed NPC classmates were coming inside one by one. All of them seemed to take no notice of him.

—Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The rhythmic tone roused him from the pleasant darkness. However, while he was conscious, he still did not quite feel entirely awake, remaining at the threshold of proper awareness. Every beep suspended him from falling off the cliff, making him barely teeter on the precarious edge; every pause was a risk of him plunging straight back into the blissful blackness.

Çuiren had never considered the customs of royals. In her village, they had gifted each other foodstuff all the time. But it had always been smaller amounts than the small cart-full of wine for the errand runner to bring to the First Blood Prince’s estate. Despite the day being cold, Çuiren had ungraciously rolled up her sleeves and she her breathing seemed a little heavy as she watched a familiar guard dressed in black and green give commands to the errand runner.

A couple of hours earlier. Back in her own bed, Çuiren’s heart was beating in a sprint within her chest, hammering just as hard. The other slave had said she looked a little pale and should lay down, and she had nearly sprinted to be alone. We know the rumours are false. These words terrified her. She had heard from another servant only this morning that the investigation was leading nowhere in finding the second person, but that it was clear was someone else involved, though unnamed.

Upon hearing his sibling say this, Ažerlü-šanad took his goblet of wine, swirling the contents thoughtfully. U’il-šanad saw this and understood the tacit urging to eat. He had his servant pick out a few dishes that his guard taste tested first. Had this been any other of the Princes, Ažerlü-šanad might have frowned, but U’il-šanad was different. Other than the Crown Prince, the Emperor placed great care in ensuring the ninth Blood Prince’s safety.

“Your Royal Highness, it is done.” Upon hearing the maidservant, U’il-šanad turned to her, giving her an appreciative nod. He followed her back into the inner chamber, where he removed the warm robe to get dressed. The girl helped him put on the first layer right as he heard another knock. “Your Royal Highness, I have brought you some warm food.”

Imperial Capital. U’il-šanad stirred in his bed as he woke up. A maid immediately came inside with a flickering lantern. “Good morning, Your Royal Highness.” “Good morning. Could you have the cook make something warm? The winter chill is getting to me.” “Of course, Your Royal Highness.” The maid curtsied before she left. U’il-šanad closed his eyes and pulled the blanket over his head.

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