Varen's shadow was menacing as he moved silently through the corridors, with only a singular destination in mind.
It was hard to read his expression in the dark, but it wasn't difficult to figure out that he was not in a delightful mood.
'Enough is enough.' He thought, gritting his teeth in anger while he walked. He was starting to grow tired of Zeya's mind tricks. 'This foolishness ends today, whether she likes it or not.'
She was doing this on purpose, a brave attempt to cause Varen to lose his mind with each passing second.
Perhaps it was their history as former lovers, but Zeya knew precisely how to irritate Varen to an extreme degree.
He knew why Zeya was ignoring him, and the pounding headache he woke up with after the incident only confirmed his suspicions.
'I... I made a mistake.' He admitted that he was in the wrong and yet when he's been trying to apologize for his actions, she decides to ignore him as if he was a plague.
He had to control himself from now on, because one more mistake and Zeya wouldn't hesitate to find a way to disappear into thin air, abandoning him once again.
Varen had been anticipating her to defy his wishes, especially after she regained most of her strength when she devoured the human crook back at the village.
That was the only rational theory that could've explained why she could leave him behind without feeling the effects of the blood contract.
She never had a heart that was soft enough to begin with after all.
All this thinking led Varen to remember the look on her face when he revealed his betrayal to her, and he doubt that he would ever forget it.
She barely flinched at his words as he struggled to even look into her eyes.
'It was as if she knew all along.' He thought, recalling the coldness that she had left him with. 'She knew that I'd betray her and destroy everything she loved.'
And just like that, their relationship ended, without ever giving him the closure that he needed in order to move on normally.
He couldn't even run after her because he feared that his father would find out that he saw her behind his back.
However, it was different this time.
He vowed to make things right again after his father's death, even if it meant having to force everyone to obey him by instilling fear to whoever tried to go against his wishes.
It was Varen that had the upper hand now, not his father and definitely not Zeya.
He was given a once-in-a-lifetime chance to get back what he had thought he lost forever, and he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.
Varen forcibly stopped the memories from the past to distract him any further when he arrived in front of Zeya's bedroom chamber.
He simply waited for a shift in the air, taking all the time he needed to see if Zeya had noticed his arrival.
'... Not a single reaction.' He thought, finding it odd.
Zeya was highly attuned to specific waves of magic, and his presence always elicited the strongest reactions from her.
Varen, on the other hand, could strongly feel her magic from the other side, perhaps she was in a deep sleep.
'Is that why you locked the door, Zeya?' He couldn't help but smile at the naive thought.
To think that a mere lock could keep him away from her was ridiculous, even for her.
He hovered his scarred hand right in front of the intricate doorknob before a bright flash of white light erupting from his slender fingers, unlocking it as a result.
The stillness of the room caught Varen off guard, and the empty bed only confirmed the fact that Zeya was not in the room with him.
The window next to the bed was the only sign of her inside the entire room, the curtains swaying to the late-night winds.
The wind blew harshly outside the palace, and a lone piece of paper from her bed's nightstand blew towards him as a result of that.
He snatched the paper just before it hit his face, crumpling it slightly from the quick reflex.
Immediately, he felt the same wave of Zeya's magic from the paper, confirming that it was left behind by the Roseabelle.
He quickly smoothened the paper to read it, curious to see what Zeya had to say for herself.
A large grin formed on his face right as he finished reading the letter, failing to hide the satisfaction he felt.
He couldn't help but chuckle under his breath, folding the letter so that it would fit into one of his coat's breast pockets.
"I doubt Muir would mind my arrival being a day earlier than planned." He thought, already making plans to head out as soon as time permitted it. "After all, I'm merely going there to get back what's mine."
=================
Muir returned to his study by himself, obviously in a foul mood.
The scowl etched on his face remained, even as he sought solitude to soothe his agitation, away from his advisor who had played a role in the abrupt change of his mood.
"What a ridiculous life I live." He laughed harshly, running his hands through his silky, amber brown hair. "How did he even manage to make me the ruler when he tries to observe every single decision I make?"
Muir's hand tightened as his anger resurfaced yet again, further crumpling the paper he held onto as he walked.
It was from his father, the retired emperor, attempting to meddle into Muir's business yet again.
As the festival approached, the frequency of these letters increased, and with each passing day, his father grew more and more worried regarding his decision to invite outsiders into Toyah.
"I may be the emperor now, however..." His jaw clenched tightly before finishing his sentence. "In their hearts, they only wish to serve my father."
His legs became rooted to the spot when he realized the door to his study was inexplicably ajar.
The usual guards that were in charge of patrolling the area were nowhere to be seen, causing further confusion.
With hesitation, he took a few more steps toward the door and pushed it wide open to examine the inside.
He immediately recognized the two unconscious men on the floor to be his missing guards, neatly stacked directly in front of his line of vision.
They were badly bruised and barely breathing, and he quickly noted that the one behind this was still nearby.
Unbeknownst to him however, a large figure was watching him from the shadows, waiting for the right time to announce his presence.
"Do you like the gift, old friend?" A voice came from right behind Muir, who swiftly turned to see who was behind the voice.
"... I should've known it was you behind this." Muir finally eased up when he recognized who the voice belonged to.
Muir was unimpressed by Varen's brute-like behavior despite him belonging to royal blood, however he decided it was smarter to keep his thoughts to himself.
"You know, you could've at least gone a little easier on them, Varen." Muir looked at the men with pity. "It's going to take months to fully heal from the injuries you inflicted on them."
"My sincerest apologies. It appeared as though my frustrations got the best of my better judgement." Varen flashed a devilish smile. "The past few days have been rather, for the lack of a better word, cruel on me, you see."
"I'm sure you know why I'm here Muir, so let's get straight to the point, shall we?" The playful twirl of dark crimson light in his eyes paired with his care-free grin somehow gave him an even more menacing aura. "Before I begin losing my patience."
"Where is she?"