Last of The Cursed

"No."

Kazmun glanced at Alyssane.

Her shadowed silver gaze was on him, searching for something hard to discern and he couldn't help but wonder about her silence, her feigned calm.

"Are you not going to ask why?"

She lowered her eyes, and there was a distant emptiness to her voice, "Will that change anything?"

Kazmun did not respond.

Alyssane already knew the answer, and his thoughts were distracted by the way she was trying so hard to hold back her feelings, how she refused to raise her eyes, and how she bit her lips as if to punish herself.

'If I take my words back, would you feel better?'

'What if I spin a few lies?'

There was no certainty.

Not when fears always clung to her like a shadow, making him question what stirred in her thoughts, what nightmares haunted her mind?

He frowned at himself. 

"We are leaving for the capital tomorrow," Kazmun told her.

He returned to his desk. There were too many things that needed his attention. He had to push them back because of all the things that kept going wrong.

Alyssane quietly watched him work.

It was clear that she had questions and confusion, but since Alyssane did not voice her doubts, Kazmun did not bother to answer. He gave her a few moments to gather her thoughts and focused on writing a letter.

She hesitated as the distant lyrical sounds of the festival filled the room, the frequent shimmering of the fireworks gave an almost magical feel to everything.

"Can we still go to the festival?"

Kazmun glanced at her, his hand paused.

Alyssane watched him with mixed emotions, she seemed to regret her words but she said nothing more as if a part of her hoped he would agree.

He had never seen even a flicker of hope in her eyes before.

Kazmun returned his attention to the letter and responded in a deep low voice.

"Wait for me."

Alyssane did not move at first, did she think he was lying? But then he heard her faint sigh as she responded, "I will."

His eyes briefly shifted to her as she left, and something dark flickered through his mind.

Kazmun resumed writing the letter, but now his grip on the pen was too tight. 

The lamps around the room had dimmed as they burned closer to their end, and the zealous sounds of music from the city had started to faint as the night grew weary.

It was already too late for the city festival.

"Taryn," Kazmun quietly murmured.

And the man entered through the window too swiftly. There was curiosity written all over his face as he walked in, "Are we taking her to the palace?"

Kazmun sealed the letter with wax, "Mn."

"I am not even sure what to say," Taryn chuckled, "There are just too many questions… but may I ask why are we doing all this?"

There was a touch of disappointment in his voice as he added, "She would already be dead if she had not escaped that night…"

Kazmun silenced him with a dark glance.

Taryn sighed, accepting the letter.

A few days after Alyssane was brought to the tavern, it was decided that there was no evidence in her favor. She had to be executed publicly in the Imperial Capital for the Lord Chancellor's death.

But there was a serious issue, her silver eyes.

One of the most influential houses in the old monarchy was House Esmer. They were recognized by their silver eyes and silver hair. Their roots were so ancient that lores used to be whispered about them, each one speaking of their sinister deeds.

The insurgence started with the assassination of their family head three decades ago, and what followed were the warring times that turned over the whole monarchy. 

House Esmer was nearly erased from the pages of history and the earthly lands.

Kazmun was the one to kill the last remnants of their bloodline.

If Alyssane was to be publicly executed in the Imperial Capital, someone was bound to notice her eyes, rumors would spread, and the Crown's claims would be put into question.

They had declared House Esmer's end a long time ago to ensure the stability of the throne.

And so, Kazmun had sent Taryn to kill Alyssane.

But she was missing.

Kazmun found her all alone in an empty street. She was barely standing still, her expressions were white, and her terrified gaze grieved for a stranger.

And all he could around her were her fears spilling out of her heart―raw and intense.

"What will we do next?" Taryn asked, at last, the curiosity in his eyes had dimmed and was replaced by a sudden heaviness as he realized the weight of their situation.

Kazmun was not sure himself.

He had a few things in his mind, none seemed right enough.

But it was already very late for the festival, if he had to stay behind a moment longer, Kazmun might have to see the festival with ghosts.

"Forget she ever had silver eyes," Kazmun finally responded.

Taryn was confused, "Had?"

"They have been grey lately."

"Is that normal…?"

Kazmun fixed the cuffs of his shirt.

It was not normal, but it would not be strange for a descendant of House Esmer to have such peculiarities―far too many mysteries surrounded their existence.

Too many horrors too.

"Well," Taryn watched Kazmun with a careful gaze, "I still find it hard to believe that you have spared her."

A shadow of a smile curled over Kazmun's lips. There was something deep and dark in his unreadable eyes he asked.

"Have I?"