Chapter 17: The Devil’s Killer Bride
It was early morning, and a soft golden hue bathed the cobbled streets of the kingdom. The market was already alive with quiet chatter and the aroma of baked bread, spices, and roasted meat. Caelen, Ryan, and Veralia moved through the bustling crowd with hoods pulled low over their faces, each step deliberate and silent. The sounds of merchants yelling prices, children laughing, and wheels creaking over stone filled the air—but none of it distracted Caelen. His eyes, half-lidded and sharp beneath the hood, scanned everything.
As they passed a small gathering near a fruit stall, a voice cut through the morning din.
"I heard the royal guards are looking everywhere for the Hero of Recovery," one man whispered to his companion.
"I hope they catch him," the other replied, bitterness in his tone. "He was meant to be a savior, but he turned out to be a devil. A monster in the skin of a man."
They both laughed nervously and walked away, disappearing into the crowd like smoke in wind.
Caelen had stopped walking. Veralia noticed first and glanced at him. Ryan turned next, eyes narrowing when he saw the slight tilt of Caelen’s lips—he was smiling.
But his eyes... they were glowing faintly beneath the hood. Not in rage, not in sorrow—something far colder. Amusement, laced with danger.
"My lord?" Ryan said softly, his voice tight with concern. "Should I take care of them?"
Caelen didn’t respond immediately. His gaze followed the direction the men had gone, as if calculating something unseen. Then, finally, he spoke.
"No. Let’s keep moving."
Ryan hesitated for a second, but then nodded. "As you wish."