Kai obeyed and lay down on the bed. It seemed Sylas wasn’t interested in asking him to serve him, but he was still allowed to sleep on the bed.
That thought made Kai uncomfortable. He felt more and more useless as a slave. If things kept going , he would soon be discarded or sold, if anyone would even want to buy him.
Frustration kept Kai awake.
The rain began to ease, and Kai glanced at the sofa where Sylas was still sitting. The man looked calm as ever, doing who knows what.
Kai tried to close his eyes. The pillow smelled pleasant, and the bed was soft and comfortable, but he couldn’t sleep peacefully. After tossing and turning to find a comfortable position, he curled up in the corner of the bed and eventually drifted off.
Sylas stared out at the wet balcony. The rain, carried by the wind, had sent droplets of water inside. But now it had stopped. He opened the balcony door slightly, letting the cool air into the room.
Normally, he would stay up until midnight reading or planning something. But it wasn’t even eleven yet, and he already felt like going to bed. Something urged him to check on Kai.
Just thinking about the slave made his chest stir with excitement.
Sylas left the balcony door ajar, the wind occasionally shifting the curtains.
He walked to the bed and shook his head when he found Kai curled up like a shrimp. Climbing onto the bed, he gently pulled Kai’s legs into a normal sleeping position. Thɪs chapter is updated by novᴇlfire.net
Kai was lying on the side closer to Sylas. The prince spent a few minutes gazing at his face, so peaceful and serene.
He smiled fondly, touching Kai’s pointed nose. The slave wasn’t sensitive to touch, so even though Sylas touched him several times, Kai didn’t wake up.
Sylas didn’t want to wake him; he just enjoyed being close to him. He stroked Kai’s cheek, traced his slightly dry lips, then his long eyelashes and neat eyebrows, though Sylas was sure Kai had never groomed them.
The face was beautiful. He hadn’t really noticed before, but now he studied it closely.
Sylas was amazed. He never grew tired of looking at that face—it was addictive. Even in his memories and imagination, it appeared more and more.
He lay down. He had never slept beside anyone before, on his bed, but having someone next to him wasn’t so bad. His hand moved to pull Kai’s waist closer, holding him like that.
It felt so good and calming that Sylas thought he might do this often.
He looked at Kai’s face again, silent for a moment.
Maybe one kiss wouldn’t be so bad, Sylas thought. He had already kissed him earlier, and Kai hadn’t resisted.
It should be fine, he convinced himself. His lips moved toward Kai’s cheek, but before they touched, guilt rose in his chest.
He quickly pulled back.
How could he take advantage of someone asleep and unaware?
Sylas clicked his tongue. He really was being perverted right now.
He let go of Kai’s waist and turned to face the other side, trying to calm his racing heart.
Amos sat at the table, holding his head. It was already midnight, and the lamp above still burned. The black book lay open at the edge of the table.
A circular pattern lined with ancient runes glowed faintly on the surface.
Amos gripped his head with both hands and closed his eyes. He had made a huge mistake, and until now, he hadn’t been able to fix it.
He was born from the womb of a witch, without a father. He didn’t know the full story, but he remembered moving from forest to forest before finally settling in the village of Ophra, in the Westmere region.
Amos had an extraordinary talent for casting spells, but his mother had always forbidden him to use it. She even banned him from touching a magic book. He was grateful he’d managed to bring the black book with him when he entered the palace.
He didn’t know why his mother was so afraid of him learning magic. But he loved her deeply, so he stopped for her sake, including hiding their true identities.
They had to live as ordinary humans.
Ophra was a village famous for its sword trainers, who prepared young men to become palace guards. That was why his mother took him to the best sword master there, encouraging Amos to become a palace knight.
His mother often said, "The king is a good man. Serve him."
Amos still remembered the first time he saw Prince Sylas, when the young prince passed through his village. They stayed the night, and Amos had watched from afar how kind and generous the prince was to the villagers. He understood why his mother trusted the royal family so much.
During the entrance exam to become a palace guard, Amos’s skills immediately caught the general’s attention. He received special training to become a royal knight. He was still young, so he was only assigned as a backup guard for Alvaro, which he didn’t like.
For some reason, he had disliked Alvaro from the moment they met. He had even wondered about casting a spell to make Alvaro disappear when Sylas took him away from the palace.
But he had promised his mother never to use magic.
Everything began to change when Adrien fell ill. Amos only wanted to help. He knew Adrien’s condition was bad. He managed to collect the king’s hair and nails, then began casting a spell to force the poison out of his body.
The spell worked at first, moving the poison downward, but the ritual was interrupted by a knock on the door. The spell stopped halfway. Worse, it seemed to block any other healing attempts from working on the king.
He knew he had to fix it. He wanted to start over, but he didn’t know how. And worst of all, he couldn’t even remember the full spell.
Amos clutched his head tighter, silently apologizing to the king over and over... in his mind.
Now he was trying to recreate the spell on the table, hoping to learn how to undo it. But so far, he had failed. Instead, strange tendrils of light kept moving unpredictably inside the magic pattern.
Amos groaned in despair. If he told the truth, he would probably be sentenced to death. If he asked his mother for help, she might kill him herself for breaking her rules and revealing their identity.
His hands trembled again. He was scared.
He felt even more hopeless when he couldn’t even mark a servant like Kai. It should have been easy. Kai had been right in front of him, with nothing in between, and Amos had been able to touch him directly.
But still, he couldn’t mark him.
"Arrghh..." Maybe he should never have learned magic halfway.
But at least he could use the spell he had created without realizing it, while trying to find the right one to remove the spell from King Adrien’s body, and use it to kill the people spreading bad news about Sylas and the king.