Chapter XVII

Her palms, it was rough against his cheek— thumb caressing in circles in assurance from the white-haired magician before him.

Their cat and mouse chase had ended not so long ago, leaving them in silence as the crowned prince, took his precious time gawking at her mesmerizing features that were even more enhanced by the blazing sun.

It had set a minute ago, going to another part of the world in order to give light. The only thing that serves as a beacon illuminating their surroundings was the faint glow of the rising moon.

Deep azure light coated their forms, giving them enough to watch one another clearly.

Clementine’s gaze were focused on his own pair— bright silver clashing against the deepest of obsidian.

Expression showing neutrality; brows were laid flat, pink lips formed into a tight line, optics gleaming unknowingly at the thoughts that were only exclusive for her own.

Whatever she was thinking, it was definitely drowning her as seconds passed by, seeing that she hasn’t moved yet from her friendly yet somewhat intimate gesture.

Thoughts after thoughts came filling her mind, proving its distraction, when Aethan tilted his head away from her touch. The sensation of something wrapping itself around her wrist, had her jolting back to reality.

Blinking once, twice, three times; absentmindedly averting stare towards her hand that was held tightly in a firm grip. Not enough to leave a painful bruise, yet able to halt her from any movements.

“O-oops! My bad”, a squeak, pulling her hand back to her side— she cleared her throat, hands reaching up to adjust the collar of her blouse, gaze avoiding stern ones that were pierced through her very soul.

‘I went quite far with that. . . Oh, get a grip, Clei!’

“I got quite distracted”, the lass added sheepishly.

“It doesn’t matter”, he mumbled with a grumble; voice forced and laced with irritation. That made her flinch, feeling the chills that crawled in immense speed from her spine.

“I’m sorry. . . I didn’t mean to”,

He scoffed.

“I told you already. It doesn’t matter”, Aethan pressed, anger now heard in his tone. He sighed in aggravation, gripping his hair with a scowl as his current expression.

“I—“,

“You’re going right? Better get going then”, he coldly added, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The prince then sent her, yet again another glare, before turning his soles and walking back to his room without even sparing her a last glance.

Thereon, she was left alone— vision trained on his retreating figure in the shadows. Clementine, have by far, expected such reaction from him, making it less painful that what it would be, had she not prepared.

Instead of being dejected by the recent occurrence, a giggle made its way pass her lips, her mouth forming into an amused lopsided grin.

Tilting her head back, she diverted her attention back to the moon— admiring its magnificent hues that reminded her of the ocean.

It was really beautiful, calming and relieving. No wonder, a certain imperial guard was always seen hanging out in the gardens, neck angled upwards; focused on the gleaming orb of light that brought life on a dark canvass.

Clementine, herself, had never really attained the time to admire the magnificence of twilight. Always finding her nose on a book, or simply doing tasks that the emperor have tasked her to do.

She’d be too tired when finished, opting to submit to slumber willingly; the comfy bed of hers also never failed to invite her whenever, and no sane person would likely decline such invitation for rest.

Well, except for. . . Delphinium, that is.

The magician sighed, basking underneath the faint glow of the moon, already forgetting about the scenes that happened with Aethan minutes ago. Currently, her mind is blank— simply blocked from thinking yet again.

For once, she asked herself if her past decisions have brought her to the right path.

Was it really for the better? Or was it for the worst? Who knows. . .

Faint zephyr blew against her, beckoning her to come forth, wherever she wanted to go. Wind— it has always been free, never chained, never contained.

It moves on its own volition. It dances its own way. It flows like unending music played by musicians; undying.

Albeit, it was reckless.

Too reckless.

“Deep in thought?”,

“You came just in time”,

“You didn’t answer my question”,

Clementine let out a weak giggle, fingers coming to tuck back strands of silver hair that had fallen from her ear. It was let loose, crashing down like silken-curtains, unlike any other day wherein she would tie it in a high ponytail.

A figure leaned down on the wall to her right, letting the shadows cast away his appearance. Although, by the husky-flat voice that he owns, she was immediate to conclude and recognize the person.

“Celwin Venatici. Its been quite long since I’ve last seen you”, The magician acknowledged, turning to face the lad with an unnoticed smirk crawling its way to her lips.

Placing a right hand on her right hip, the magician shuffled her feet to change its weight, while she hummed to a tune that her mother would always sing her before sleep.

“Been quite a while, indeed. You’ve grown much”, he commented, gesturing a hand to her figure, uninterested.

It’s normal for the son of Marquees Tobias Venatici to act as he did— though truthfully, he is much more tolerable than a certain matcha haired prince.

Celwin, in a way, is a pleasant and preferable company.

He’s not too cold, nor too annoying. Not too silent, nor too loud. He’s a person of mediocre calliber, much like his older sister Rosette; both who attained the traits of their father.

“Ah, yes. I’d like to cut my hair soon though. It has gotten longer and much more annoying”, she wistfully whined, twirling a lock boringly, before letting it fall down with gravity.

Clements then sighed, ruffling her fringes messy; a hobby of hers whenever she wanted to avert the topic elsewhere.

“I could cut it for you”, the former offered, opening a palm to summon his likely weapon; the sword of King Oceanux, one of the First Ten Rulers of the world.

This earned him an incredulous look from the silver-eyed lass, yet merely rewarding it with a raised brow.

“What?”, he questioned.

“What? What do you mean by ‘what’?”, Clementine answered, baffled. She gave him a glance, only to return her gaze back on the glowing rapier.

“That sword is as sacred as mine. There’s no way that you’d use it for a hair cut”,

“I cut vegetables using this, cutting hair wouldn’t be a big deal”, Celwin shrugged, gripping the handle of his sword nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t a ‘sacred’ weapon that a former great ruler have used to slaughter evil.

“You. . .what?!”, the magician shrieked unbelievably.

“I volunteered to cook for dinner the other day. I couldn’t find a knife, so I used this sword to cut down the meat and vegetables”,

‘For goodness sake! Oh, please forgive this boy for he had sinned’

“Cutting your hair wouldn’t be a huge deal”, he finished, swinging it without a care in the world.

The lad then darted his attention from the sword to the magician, brows quirking at how speechless she was.

Mouth gaping in shock and unimaginable.

“So, take it or leave it?”, Celwin inquired, amusement glittering within his hazel optics. He gauged her expression thereon, making mental-notes of her movements.

It kind of resembled a child awaiting for their parents' decision to join a field trip. Filled with anticipation for something to be affirmed.

“Leave it. That’d be disrespectful”, She stated hastily, afraid that the young man in front of her wouldn’t consider her response.

Fortunately enough, the glowing sword from his hand dispersed in sparkling blue bubbles; much to her relief.

However, when she turned around ready to release a sigh of relief, the lad summoned his sword , striking down on once stroke, whilst his companion was distracted .

A faint sound of something slicing in thin air, made her squeak, following after were rustling that came beneath.

Her head felt lighter suddenly, as if the burden of having a long hair was cut—

Ohh. . .

‘Oh!’

Just as she thought, strands of silver flooded the carpeted floor— all tangled and laid on top of one another. The sight of it made her stomach do somersaults, not knowing what or how to react in this type of situation.

A hand reached up to touch the tips of her hair, finding it reaching just below her nape; just the way she liked it.

Yet, she couldn’t find the voice to offer her gratitude.

One, that is the sword of Oceanux— a notable and splendid king. Two, it is a sacred item. Three, he could’ve honestly sliced her head off. Four, it was uncalled!

“You bastard, you want my head chopped?!”, she exclaimed, pretty much overreacting.

Clementine could feel animated lines behind her, forming a gloomy atmosphere as she thought of how the spirit would react at such act.

“I didn’t. That’s good, no?”, Celwin stated, half asked.

He squinted his eyes to gain a better view of her new appearance, nodding his head in confirmation and admiration to his own work.

“Besides, your burden has been lessen. You can move much more quicker and lighter now, than before”,

“Long hair, much distractions. Short hair, less death encounters”, he quoted, as a matter of fact.

“It makes sense yet it doesn’t, at the same time”, Clementine murmured, going to a near corner to sulk, absolutely ready to grow some mushrooms.

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