Chapter 21
Vesper’s fist collided with Alistair’s jaw before the words had even left his mouth.
The assassin moved like a shadow–fluid, lethal. Though Alistair was battle–hardened, he was no match for a man who had clawed his way to the top of the underworld’s bloody hierarchy. Every strike Vesper landed was a killing blow, each movement calculated to end the king’s life.
But Alistair was still a king.
Royal guards materialized from the darkness, intercepting Vesper’s attacks, their blades flashing as they shielded their sovereign. Poisoned arrows whistled through the air–only for a guard to throw himself in their path, dying without a sound.
When brute force failed, Vesper’s eyes darkened with resolve. He would burn them all down if it meant buying Elvira and Julius their freedom. Even if it cost him his life.
“Vesper! Don’t-!” Elvira’s voice cracked like a whip.
He froze.
A guard seized the opening, dagger aimed straight for Vesper’s heart.
Elvira lunged without thinking, squeezing her eyes shut-
But the pain never came.
When she dared to look, Alistair stood before her, his hand locked around the blade. Blood dripped between his fingers, yet his grip didn’t waver.
“Elvira… are you hurt?”
The raw panic in his voice was almost laughable. Here he was, bleeding, yet fixated only on her.
She shook her head, cold as winter.
“I’m fine. But Your Majesty–I don’t want your concern. Without you, my life would’ve been simple. Safe. I hate this selfish love of yours.”
The words carved into Alistair deeper than any blade.
“So. You love him now?”
Her silence was answer enough.
Alistair’s smile twisted, bitter as poison. The ache in his chest threatened to drown him. He could stomach her bearing another man’s child—but her heart belonging to someone else? That, he could not endure.
“Why him, Elvira? Why not me? I’d give you everything. A fresh start. I’d never hurt you again-”
“I don’t want anything from you.” She turned away, scooping Julius into her arms. The boy giggled, oblivious, as she reached for Vesper’s hand. “Leave. And don’t come back.”
“Or next time, I’ll choose death over staying with you. Test me, if you dare.”
The door shut behind them, sealing away the sound of their laughter.
Alistair stood rooted, drinking in the agony. If our child had lived… would you still look at me like that?
Only when the house had gone silent did he finally walk away, his shadow stretching long and lonely behind him.
By dawn, the guards had scrubbed the courtyard clean–as if no blood had ever been spilled.
Yet the very next day, a new neighbor moved in next door.
Unsurprisingly, it was Alistair.
Even Silas trailed after him, silent as a ghost.
