The jail beneath the city guardhouse smelled of blood and wet stone.
Three Crimson Crow assassins sat in a cell, their red cloaks torn and filthy.
They were still broken from the fight—cuts left open, bruises swollen, their breathing rough and shallow.
The spearman leaned against the wall, clutching his side where blood still seeped through. Every breath rattled in his chest.
The mage crouched near the bars, one eye swollen shut, his fingers twitching as if still reaching for a staff that wasn’t there.
The swordsman lay on the floor, lips cracked, coughing blood. Even so, a faint smile lingered on his face.
A lantern outside the cell swung slowly, shadows crawling across their faces.
Two guards stood watch with spears in hand, but fear showed plain in their eyes. Even beaten and bleeding, the assassins felt dangerous—like crows waiting to strike.
The spearman whispered through blood. “I think they’ll hang us soon.”
The mage spat red onto the floor. “Not that soon. I know these so-called righteous types. They’ll put us on trial first.”
The swordsman gave a weak laugh, more breath than voice. “Good. If that’s their plan, that means we still have time.”
The cell fell quiet again, broken only by dripping water and their ragged breaths.
Then—footsteps echoed down the stone passage. Slow. Certain.
The guards straightened, spears rising, as a shadow stretched along the wall.
Cassian appeared at the end of the corridor, his eyes cold as steel. He stopped before the cell, lantern light catching the hard lines of his face.
The assassins looked up, their breathing harsh. The spearman pressed harder on his wound, the mage’s good eye narrowed, and the swordsman’s bloody smile grew faintly wider.
Cassian stood in silence, letting the weight of it hang.
At last he spoke, voice low and sharp.214Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRVIPpHrchR
“How do you like your new home?”
The swordsman coughed, blood staining his teeth. “We don’t answer to a mere servant…” His voice was weak, but the mockery clung to it.
Cassian’s gaze did not waver. He stepped closer, his shadow falling long across the cell.214Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvxhiFlbh4G
“So predictable,” he said coldly. “I knew words wouldn’t come easy from your kind.”
He lifted a hand. The guards froze, exchanged a glance, then withdrew down the corridor—leaving Cassian alone with the prisoners.
Cassian leaned nearer to the bars, his eyes sharp as a drawn blade.214Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwZpXcQ204M
The lantern above creaked on its hook, shadows swaying across the damp stone.
“I’m not here for answers,” he said at last, voice steady and low.
The mage spat blood again, his good eye burning. “Yeah? But I think you are. You’re just trying to crawl inside our heads.”
Cassian tilted his chin, calm, almost detached.214Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCp823MO3fE
“I see it in the way you clutch your wounds, the way your breath rattles. You’re already dying. Just… not fast enough. And I don’t have time to wait.”
The spearman’s breath caught, his hand pressing harder against his bleeding side. “So you’ve come to finish us off? Strange. I thought the prince was supposed to be benevolent. Surprising he’d keep a man like you.”
Cassian’s lips curved in disdain.214Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM0lpMRzWvC
“Someone has to do the work no one else will. You of all people should understand that.”
The swordsman gave a dry, broken chuckle, blood on his teeth. “If you think killing us will end this—”
Cassian cut him off, his tone sharp as steel.214Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPR5hpNtK47
“I know it won’t. I know more Crows will come. But I can’t let you live long enough to spread tales about a prince saved by a vampire.”
The words hung in the damp air.
The assassins went still. Even the mage, who had spat curses moments ago, faltered.
The swordsman’s faint grin wavered, though it never fully broke. “I see... You’re afraid of the temple…” he rasped, voice cracking.
Cassian’s hand rested lightly on the hilt of his blade. He did not draw it—yet. Instead, he leaned closer, his shadow swallowing the bars.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “So now you understand why I have to do this.”
The spearman tried to sneer, but pain twisted his face. “You’re just a coward. So is the prince.”
Cassian’s eyes narrowed, sharp as the edge of steel.214Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡg7NTIjg9iQ
“You can call me whatever you like. But the prince doesn’t know about this.”
He unlocked the cell door with a deliberate click. The hinges groaned as he stepped inside, boots heavy on the stone.
The assassins tensed, even in their broken state. The mage shifted as if to summon what strength he had left.
The spearman raised his hand from his wound, fingers trembling.
The swordsman coughed blood and forced his cracked smile wider.
Cassian knelt beside him first. “Any last words?” he murmured, voice low enough only the three of them could hear.
The swordsman’s eyes widened as Cassian’s blade flashed. A clean strike—quick, merciful. The body went still.
The mage let out a ragged cry and lunged weakly toward him. Cassian turned, the motion smooth, and drove steel through his chest before the sound had even finished echoing.
The spearman tried to rise, his breath rattling, blood running freely now.
He locked eyes with Cassian, hatred burning through the haze of pain. “I’ll see you… in hell…”
Cassian met his gaze without flinching. “I have no doubt.”
Steel fell once more. The jail grew silent.
Cassian stood in the dark cell, the three assassins still at his feet. The lantern swung overhead, casting long shadows against the stone.
He wiped the blade clean on a torn red cloak, then slid it back into its sheath.
When he stepped out, he pulled the cell door shut with a heavy clang. The guards at the corridor’s end stared, eyes wide, but did not speak.
Cassian passed them without a word, his cloak trailing, boots echoing in steady rhythm until the sound faded into the dark.
Meanwhile, on the cliffs not far from the harbor.
Mira sat with her knees drawn close, a small basket resting by her side.
The sea stretched endlessly before her, sunlight scattering across the waves like spilled coins.
Gulls wheeled overhead, their cries carried by the wind, while far below the tide washed gently against the rocks.
She let out a long breath, chin resting on her arms. “Escort the prince, huh…” The words came out softly, half carried away by the breeze.
It wasn’t that she disliked him—if anything, he seemed… kind. More human than she expected a prince to be.
But the thought of traveling beyond Mermaid’s Cove and leaving her parents made her chest tighten.
Her gaze followed a fishing boat as it returned to the docks, nets trailing like dark ribbons in the water.
For a moment, she envied the certainty of those fishermen—knowing the tide, the catch, their place in the world.
She didn’t notice how tightly her fingers had curled in her skirt until the wind picked up, tugging at her hair.
Mira closed her eyes, letting the salty air cool her thoughts. She almost managed to lose herself in it—until some flower petals in the wind caught her attention.
She turned her head and saw a small cluster of yellow blossoms swaying stubbornly at the cliff’s edge, their bright faces defiant against the sea breeze.
With a small smile, Mira rose and walked over, plucking one carefully from the patch.
Sitting back down, she held it between her fingers, twirling the stem. “Go… don’t go… go… don’t go…” she murmured, plucking each petal one by one.
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The petals fluttered away, carried by the wind until they vanished into the vast blue sky. Each one felt like a piece of her own indecision drifting off.
When the last petal was gone, she looked down at the bare green stem and sighed. “You're not helping at all.” She tossed it aside, hugging her knees again.
But somehow, the simple game left her smiling faintly—even if her heart still wavered.
Her voice slipped into the wind, almost a prayer.214Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkFQFyGaIH0
“Aris-sama… can you hear me? What should I do?”
And that was when she felt it again—that quiet presence, steady and familiar.
Mira turned, the breeze catching her hair.
Lucien stood there.214Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmXTpDaSYdD
The sea wind tangled through his cloak and tousled his hair, while his golden eyes found hers—warm as dusk, holding a thousand unspoken words...
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