Pervert!

Ilvia hissed and shook her head, deciding to move on. She continued her search for the gift with a forced smile. Despite her efforts to push the thought away, she couldn't stop wondering what he was doing here.

"Who cares?" she muttered, trying to rid herself of thoughts about him.

Eventually, she grew weary of asking around for the phoenix feather, and frustration crept in as she hadn't found it yet. Her goal was to bring her lady and his highness together, but it seemed increasingly out of reach.

Finally, she turned to retreat, only to collide with something hard—whether it was a rock or a chest, she didn't know until she heard a familiar voice. 

"Do I smell nice?" He said, with her head still pressed against his chest.

Before she looked up, the scent of sandalwood filled her nose, a scent she recognized all too well. She lifted her head, startled by the sudden appearance of the very person she'd been thinking about.

"Watch where you're going, little girl," Edward said in a deep, husky voice, raising a thick, dark eyebrow.

Ilvia scoffed and furrowed her brow. "Don't call me little girl."

Edward snickered and started to move forward, but Ilvia's voice stopped him in his tracks. "If you hadn't fought with his highness, Scarlet's relationship with him wouldn't be on the verge of collapse."

Edward turned and started moving toward her, his brows furrowed, evidence of the anger boiling within him. Ilvia's mind raced at the sight of Edward's anger, and she regretted what she had said.

Ilvia unconsciously stepped back, almost hitting a vendor's shop before Edward grabbed her waist and pulled her with his hard hand, preventing her from an embarrassing fall.

Ilvia swallowed hard, staring into his light green eyes. This was the first time she had been this close to him, and it was both alluring and terrifying.

Her hands roamed his chest unconsciously. Edward leaned in, a smirk playing on his lips as he whispered, "Careful, or you might find yourself craving more than just a taste." 

Startled, Ilvia quickly removed her hands and nudged him away. "Pervert," she said, her heart racing. Anxiety mixed with something else that she couldn't quite place. She hoped it was just anxiety.

"You sure do fit that word, Ilvia," he said, calling her name smoothly for the first time. Ilvia's mind seemed to have momentarily escaped her. When she regained her composure, she hiccuped, and Edward smiled at her.

"I do—" she stopped as the hiccups persisted and ran away in embarrassment.

He shook his head as he trailed behind her, his pace slower. His thoughts drifted to Scarlet, and a pang of guilt struck him for what had transpired. Yet, amidst the guilt, there was a sense of inevitability, believing that Jareth intended to use her as a pawn.

A heavy sigh escaped him, breaking the silence, before Ilvia's voice pulled him from his reverie.

"Why are you following me, y-you pervert?" she stammered, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Is Scarlet okay?" he asked, his face etched with concern. He dreaded the thought of having hurt her in any way.

"Maybe she would be fine if you helped find the Phoenix feather," she retorted, glancing back at him.

What did she expect? He wouldn't agree, she was sure. But his next words left her stunned.

"I know where it is," he said, and Ilvia's jaw dropped.

Ilvia burst into laughter, her mirth bubbling up uncontrollably until her cheeks ached. People started to stare, thinking she had lost her mind, and only then did she stop, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "Should I believe that?"

"Come, let me show you, little girl," Edward replied with a smile, leading the way. Ilvia followed, skepticism mingling with a spark of hope.

Despite her doubts, a part of her wanted to believe him.

The day was darkening, and they had been walking for what felt like an eternity without rest. The landscape was sandy, with towering trees casting long shadows. Ilvia began to worry about where they were.

"Haven't we reached it yet?" Ilvia panted, sweat dripping down her face.

"We're almost there," Edward replied, still striding forward. Ilvia marveled at his huge frame moving tirelessly.

"You've said that a thousand times now," she grumbled, taking a deep breath. She glanced around, realizing they were completely alone; not a soul was in sight.

Ilvia squinted and began to retreat. Edward, noticing her scent growing fainter, turned back just in time to see her running away, shouting, "You ritualist!"

He sighed, shaking his head. Counting on his fingers, he muttered numbers under his breath with a smirk. By the count of five, Ilvia came sprinting back, shouting "Cockroach" and leaping onto him.

He smiled, saying, "Are you back to your ritualist?"

Ilvia forced a smile, scratching her head and moving from him. "Scarlet must be worried about me by now. Let's go back together,"

Edward sighed and bent down, startling Ilvia. "Stop complaining and climb on."

Ilvia bit her lip, hesitating. Sensing her reluctance, Edward lifted her onto his back and resumed walking. Ilvia clasped her hands around his shoulders.

A moment of silence settled between them.

"You seem close with Scarlet," Edward remarked, breaking the silence.

"We became friends," she muttered, smiling softly. Edward responded with a simple "oh." 

Edward knew Kayla was nice so it was possible they are friends.

"What does she want with the Phoenix feather?" he asked skeptically, knowing it was used to revive the dead. Ilvia's next words clarified that neither she nor Scarlet knew its true purpose.

"His highness's birthday is coming, and she wants to gift it to him," she said, gripping his shoulders tighter.

Edward nodded, his expression thoughtful as he glanced to the left. The thought of what Jareth wanted to use the phoenix Feather for lingered in his mind.

The night grew darker, and soon a tall building loomed before them. The shadows obscured its details, making it appear ominous. A creaking dark gate opened before Edward and Ilvia.

"Where is this?" Ilvia whispered, feeling a chill of unease as she clutched Edward's clothes.

"A place where the Phoenix feather is kept," he replied, moving forward with determination.

"Can I stay outside?" she asked, stopping Edward. He slightly turned his head, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Can you?" he teased.

"I changed my mind. Let's go inside. It's only because of Scarlet," Ilvia said urgently, glancing nervously around her. The darkness made the thick trees seem like they were moving—or was it just her imagination?

With a light push, Ilvia settled back on his shoulders as he began to move inside. The door creaked ominously as it opened, cobwebs clinging to its frame.

The door slammed shut behind them with a resounding bang, as if forced. Ilvia's heart raced, and her palms grew clammy with fear.

"Aren't you scared?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Haven't you heard the stories about me?" Edward replied, furrowing his brows.

"I have, but I don't believe you're a vampire—" She paused, trying to see his face, but the darkness concealed it. "You're just a huge pervert," she added, smiling and resting her head on his shoulder.

Edward shook his head and continued walking. The ground beneath his feet was smooth, with no trace of recent human presence, as if the area had been abandoned for a thousand years. The surroundings were vast, dominated by an ancient house that stood tall before them.

Despite its unpainted exterior, something about the house captivated Ilvia. Edward walked on while Ilvia sat quietly on his back. They finally reached the doorstep, and with a slight kick, Edward opened the door and entered, gently placing Ilvia on a dusty chair.

Inside the towering, ancient structure, the atmosphere was thick with history. The high ceilings stretched into darkness, supported by massive, crumbling pillars adorned with intricate carvings now hidden beneath layers of dust. The air was cool and damp, carrying a faint, musty scent of decay. 

The floor was a mosaic of worn stone tiles, some cracked and uneven. Long-abandoned furniture, shrouded in dusty sheets, hinted at a grandeur long gone. Tattered, faded tapestries hung from the walls, their once-vibrant colors now muted and indistinct.

Dim light filtered through stained glass windows, casting eerie, multicolored shadows across the vast, empty space. The windows themselves were grimy and cracked, allowing only faint glimmers of the moonlight to penetrate the gloom. Cobwebs clung to every corner, their delicate strands shimmering like ghostly veils.

Ilvia heard Edward's faint footsteps. She stood up, looking around the house. A closed door caught her attention. Among all the doors she could see, this one was the neatest, as if it held many secrets.

She reached for the door handle, ready to open it, when a hand suddenly touched hers. She screamed in fear.

Seeing Edward, she sighed with relief. Edward, his brow furrowed, asked, "What are you doing?"

"I-I..." she stammered. All she could see was his anger, making her anxious.

"Leave," he said, handing her a blue and red intricately designed box with a padlock.

"How do you expect me to go back alone?" she questioned, pouting.

Edward stepped closer, and she instinctively moved back, hitting the door. Before she could blink, Edward struck her neck, causing her to blackout.

******

Scarlet paced back and forth, her worry growing as the night deepened. Where could Ilvia be? Lines of concern etched her lips, and she glanced up at the dark sky, trying to find solace in the scattered stars. But even the stars couldn't ease her anxiety. She regretted sending Ilvia out alone. Her thoughts were interrupted by Edward's voice.

"Scarlet," he called, his eyes meeting her defiant gaze. His heart ached for her, but he knew he had to choose his words carefully.

She glared at him, then turned to leave.

"I got the Phoenix feather," he said, pausing before continuing. "Ilvia said it was a gift for Jar- his highness's birthday."

"I don't need it anymore," she replied, her eyebrow arching in disdain.

"Scarlet, please—"

"What is it?" she snapped, weariness evident in her eyes.

"I brought Ilvia back. She's asleep in her room," he finally said after a moment of silence.

"She wanted me to give this to you. Will you accept it?" he added, holding out a small box.

Scarlet's eyes flicked to the box and then to Edward. With a sigh, she stretched out her hand, and he placed the box in her palm. Without another glance at him, she walked inside.

Jareth stood silently in a corner with Raynell, his fists clenched and brow furrowed. Seeing Edward there, interacting with Scarlet, twisted a knife in his heart. It pained him to see Scarlet turning her back on him. He longed to have her back in his life and knew he had to act quickly. 

****

Days slipped by, and Jareth's birthday had finally arrived—the day Scarlet would decide his fate.

Scarlet sat in front of the mirror as Ilvia meticulously dressed her. Her hair was elegantly styled, secured with a golden butterfly pin, and a light rouge dusted her cheeks.

Reaching for the drawer, Scarlet opened it slightly, her eyes scanning the contents. She felt around inside, searching for the box with the Phoenix feather, but it was missing. Her fingers brushed the empty space where it should have been.

Confused, she asked Ilvia, "Ilvia, have you seen the box I left here?"

"No, I haven't," Ilvia replied, shaking her head.

Scarlet's mind raced. She distinctly remembered placing the box in the drawer after Edward gave it to her. Who could have taken it? The question lingered, adding another layer of worry to her already burdened heart.