The Tyrant's Pet

Chapter 698 Twisted

[ ROSE PALACE ]

Conan reached for the bloodstain on the creased sheet, rubbing his fingers against each other. Dexter was nowhere in sight and everyone in the Rose Palace was scattered around, unconscious.

"It's still fresh," whispered Conan, peeling his eyes from the empty bed to the person who had just arrived at the marquess's chambers.

Isaiah. 

"He is not here," Conan announced the obvious while Isaiah's eyes fixed on the empty bed. "They hadn't gone that far."

Isaiah kept his mouth shut, lifting his eyes to Conan's countenance. Both of them stared at each other solemnly. Soon, knights came rushing from behind Isaiah as the latter stood by the door. They didn't say anything before Isaiah faced the knights, bearing his usual plain expression.

"Find the marquess," he ordered calmly. "Someone had him and see if there's anyone who in the empress's knighthood brigade is alive. Take them all to the infirmary."

"Yes, Your Grace!" The two knights who were leading the group faced each other and nodded, passing the order to the rest, and they immediately executed it. The Rose Palace was bad — terrible even.

"Hah…" Conan ran his fingers through his copper hair, chuckling for no reason. "See? I told you. Something like this will happen."

Isaiah glanced over his shoulder, his expression still stern. "Get yourself together."

"I am… normal."

"You're not. You're never normal," was all Isaiah said as he took a step away from the chambers. "That knight isn't as well."

The side of Conan's lips curled up into a smirk as his eyes narrowed until they were partially closed. His canines slowly grew longer.

"Of course, he isn't, but who cares about the Imperials when there's a Grimsbannes who is far better to have a showdown with?"

Isaiah's steps faltered until they stopped. Looking back inside the chambers, Conan was already gone from the position he was standing on. His eyes slowly raised to the open window, watching how the curtain on the side move from the mild wind.

"See?" A shallow breath slipped past Isaiah. "Something like this will happen."

Isaiah shook his head slightly, peeling his eyes away from the window, and resumed his strides. Unlike the hurried footsteps that were resonating across the imperial palace, his steps were soundless. His demeanor was calm and his expression plain.

"The king," came out of his lips quietly. "The Grimsbanne and Maleficent."

Who would stand alive tonight?

************************************** BREAK ***************************************

Sunny was born and raised on the mainland. Her life back there was just as normal as others; she had loving parents, a peaceful home, and skilled teachers who her parents trusts so much. In her parent's eyes, she was their princess, their sunshine, and their sweet daughter.

But Sunny was never normal. Even before she learned how to speak, her thoughts had already developed. One subject she got interested in, aside from witchcraft, which she called alchemy, was the mysteries of the mainland — particularly the king.

Sunny had always wondered why the king looked a little strange. The king of the mainland was known to be kind, generous, and righteous. But alas, after observing the royal palace from her room in her home, Sunny thought otherwise.

In her eyes, the king was unforgiving, especially to his family. He was a wise king, but a terrible father. Her grandmother, Mathilda, would occasionally visit the king, and when Sunny asked about her thoughts about the king, she would simply reply, "pitiful."

That word had always left a question mark on the little girl's head. Even so, knowing the king was her grandmother's friend, Sunny went out of her way to save him from the uprising on the mainland. Initially, she did it for her grandmother, but the longer she stayed in Haimirich and talked to Abel, Sunny's curiosity was piqued.

What did Abel know that nobody didn't? Abel never told her everything directly. He wasn't that type. Although he was verbal to admit everything in his head was simply speculation without confirmation. So, Sunny had to figure it out herself and she landed on one strong conclusion.

The king of the mainland… never changed.

The first king was also the second, the third, and the fourth.

There was no knowledge or will that was passed on. It was the soul of the first king to take the body of his kin so he could live. In other words, the royal family was simply sacrifices, people this soul could choose from to take the best host.

No wonder the members of the royal family were trained so strictly. They need to be in the best shape so this soul could unleash his maximum potential.

But what Sunny didn't expect was that someone from the Grimsbanne seemed to have figured that out before her. Of all the members of the Grimsbanne to hold this information, why did it have to be Marsella?

"That is not nice, child." Sunny held her breath as soon as she met Marsella's eyes. "You will not mess with my plans."

"Where's my pretty grandma?" Sunny inquired, unable to detect the witch that was initially occupying that body.

"That's rude, little demon. You shouldn't be doing that to him."

Sunny glanced at her bloody hands shortly that were inside the man's open chest. "Did you come to stop me?"

"No," was Marsella's answer, but Sunny already filled the rest of that sentence.

Marsella didn't come to stop her, but she came to end her. Those crimson eyes shining so fiercely told Sunny to run, but the little girl stayed where she was. Running was pointless, she thought, Marsella was an Original Grimsbanne, and there was no place in hell that Sunny could run to protect herself.

"I am famished, child. But I will not stop you. I… will kill you. You understand the reason, right? For helping that wretched Vera hurt me."

"You will anger many people, Marsella," whispered Sunny, watching Marsella fly at her with murderous intent. Sunny didn't blink and remained calm. "Grandpa told me to stay where I was if danger comes…"

BOOGSH!

Sunny blinked ever so tenderly as a thunderous sound clapped in her ears, moving her gaze to the thick smoke from the hole in the wall.

"... I'm glad grandpa always keeps his promise." She heaved a sigh of relief, staring at the hole that appeared on the wall where Marsella and another figure crashed into.

Outside the forbidden mansion, Marsella rolled on the green expanse until she stopped on her knee, a palm on the ground. She slowly raised her head, and the side of her lips curled up into a grin.

"Conan," she called maliciously while Conan raised his chin, eyes down.

"Marsella Grimsbanne." Conan smirked. "Tell that witch inside you I give no guarantee she will redeem that body in one piece."

Marsella simpered. "How exciting!"

Both stared at each other for a second before a powerful gust of wind exploded upon clashing in the middle.