Three months later
"Wow, this place has come a long way," Layla said, staring in disbelief at the fully repaired house where Amira and Lucian lived.
A small garden had been started along the side; the grass was neatly trimmed; the vines that once swallowed the house were gone. Different flowers lined the front, giving it a welcoming glow. Behind the house, a broad field of freshly planted crops swayed, growing strong. And the aura around the house seemed to glow with happiness.
"Oh, Layla! you're back!" Amira shouted excitedly through an open window.
She rushed outside and wrapped Layla in a hug. "What took you so long? I thought you said you'd be gone two weeks. The caravan came back a week ago!"
Layla's face twisted with unease. "Get off me! You know how I feel about hugs."
Amira let go, crossing her arms with a pout. "You're no fun," she muttered.
Layla tugged down her shirt and huffed. "The caravan arrived on time, but those idiots forgot to renew their trading licenses, so a few of us had to turn back. Thankfully the Beastkin Kingdom did it for free." She paused, then added hesitantly, "And since I was close by, I went to the Human Kingdom to… investigate a few things that have been on my mind."
Amira's eyes flashed with worry. "You idiot! What if you'd been caught? I thought you told me you were just gonna ask an old friend to look into it? Not actually GO into the human kingdom!"
Layla waved a hand dismissively. "You know better than anyone I'm the best at sneaking in and out of places," she said, smugly.
"Youre hopeless." Amira's shoulders dropped. "Still, I hope it was worth it. We've only just started seeing each other more often, I'd really break my heart if you up and disappeared."
"Yes, yes, it was worth it." Layla rolled her eyes, then peered past Amira toward the backyard, as if searching for someone.
Amira caught it instantly and narrowed her eyes. "Looking for someone? You didn't find anything BAD about a certain someone did you?"
Layla snapped her gaze back and laughed a beat too late. "Ha! Why would you think that?"
Amira just stared, reading her posture and the nervous little tells.
Before she could read too much, Layla blurted, "Uh.. where is Lucian, anyway?"
"I'm not sure. He always disappears around this time of day," Amira said. Then her face brightened. "Oh! I bet Jack knows. Let's ask him!"
'Perfect excuse to figure out where he's been sneaking off to without making me look like a creep,' Amira thought.
———-
Over the past three months, she'd pestered Lucian with constant questions. where he was going, what he was doing, what he was thinking. One day, as he left to handle a problem in the field, she pressed him too far. Without answering he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed as he left the house, not returning for some hours. After that day, as if it was a routine, he'd leave at the same time and come back at the same time every day. Amira pouted for 1 week straight before her light returned, and since then she's avoided "bothersome" questions.
Unbeknownst to her, Lucian rather liked the pestering. It put a warm weight in his chest every time she asked something silly; he answered just to see her smile. That particular day, he simply hadn't heard her. He was peering out the window too distracted by crows that seemed to keep coming back tearing at his crops, hence the sigh.
—————-
They found Jack chopping wood, dead-eyed, mumbling a phrase over and over to himself with each swing.
Layla barely recognized him. For a sixteen-year-old, he had the muscle and tone similar to demon warriors she often saw in her childhood.
"What happened to Jack? Why does he look like that?" Layla asked, surprised.
Amira smiled. "What do you mean? He looks perfectly normal to me." They walked up.
"Jack!" Amira called gently.
He stopped and turned. His eyes looked mulled over and empty, like he'd watched too many people die. His body was an iron outline of strength, but his face was thin, and shadows sunk deep beneath his eyes.
"Huuuh?" he groaned, as he hunched over his axe like a cane.
'A zombie! They've turned this poor boy into a zombie!' Layla thought, horrified.
Still smiling, Amira continued, "Layla's looking for Lucian. Do you know where he ran off to kiddo?"
Jack pointed down the road toward a larger farm. "Huhh… duh… ehhh," he mumbled, barely moving his jaw.
"Thanks, hun!" Amira chirped.
Layla's mouth fell open. "What?"
"He said he's over there," Amira translated, pointing the same direction. "Probably talking to Old Man Lou again. Shall we go see?"
'She understood that groaning?' Layla thought. "Are you sure he's okay?"
"Yeah. He always gets like that when Lucian's done with him," Amira said brightly.
"When he's… done with him," Layla repeated under her breath.
They left Jack to it. He resumed chopping with inhuman precision, repeating, "Strength comes with hardship," over and over like a mindless machine.
Layla knocked on Old Man Lou's door. "Hello? Anyone home?"
No answer. The two women glanced at each other, shrugged, and turned to go. The door creaked open, revealing a small, mean-looking old man covered in a red substance that looked suspiciously like blood, frowning but silent.
Both women instinctively stepped back. "Uh… is Lucian here?" Amira asked, voice a touch shaky.
The old man stared a heartbeat too long, then beamed, revealing several missing teeth. "Ah! You must be a Ami. Lushian talks about cha all da time. I'll fetch him." He shut the door.
A moment later, Lucian opened it, also smeared in the same red substance, as if he'd just razed a village. "Ami. Layla," he said calmly, filling the doorway.
They both stared, confused.
Lucian glanced down at himself. "Beetroots."
Their expressions eased, but not entirely.
As if anticipating silence, he continued, "I noticed a recipe in your book calls for beets, so I planned to start a patch next month" he paused "apparently they also help with crows." He mumbled under his breath as he gazed over at his field before continuing. "Mr. Louie is showing me the steps and, well…" He looked at his stained clothes. "It's rather messy."
Both faces relaxed. Layla quietly exhaled.
Amira smiled warmly and, under her breath, whispered to Layla, "That's sweet."
"We za done for da day, Lushian," Old Man Lou called from inside. "Why don'tcha head on home now? Besides, I thinka someone misses you." He winked at Amira, chuckled, and shuffled off further inside.
Lucian gave him a small nod and followed the ladies home.
When they got back, Layla was astonished at how much the inside had changed. New flooring stretched across the rooms, polished until it gleamed. The once dull walls had been scrubbed clean and now shone faintly in the candlelight. The kitchen appliances were all replaced with newer, sturdier models, and the living room furniture looked fresh, yet the house still gave off the air of an old-money mansion nestled deep in the woods.
"Wow," Layla muttered, running her fingers along the wall. "You two have been busy. Can't believe how different this place looks in just eight weeks."
Amira smiled, pride flickering across her face. "All thanks to Lucian. I'd just mention something I wanted changed, and by the next day he and Hort would have it done." She sighed, remembering. "Though… sometimes they were a little too efficient."
Her mind flashed to a month ago. After much effort, she had finally convinced Lucian to share her bed. But even then, he clung to formality, always sleeping on the very edge, his broad shoulders turned away from her. So Amira devised a plan.
She told him her feet were cold and would only get worse as the nights turned bitter. At bedtime, she would slip her icy toes against his warm ones, inching closer each evening. Slowly, the distance narrowed. But one day, after she spent hours helping at the orphanage, she came home to discover the entire house had new flooring. Heated flooring.
When she asked him why, Lucian simply said it was so her feet wouldn't be cold anymore.
That night Amira went to bed upset, defeated, and alone. Lucian was once again banished to the living room chair, something he quickly grew used to. And like always when he would ask for the reason… none was given.
Layla took in Amira's crestfallen look and sighed. "So… I'm guessing no progress was made in that department while I was gone?"
Pitiful tears welled in Amira's crimson eyes. She shook her head no.
Layla reached over and patted her lightly on the head. "Like I said, you're going to have to tell him how you feel straight up. That man has the emotional intelligence of a rock."
⸻
Lucian had gone to release Jack from his punishment before washing up.
Jack wandered inside, zombie-like, eyes vacant, muttering to himself as he stumbled past the two women toward his room.
Layla frowned and stopped him. "Jack. How are you liking it here with Ami and Lucian? They're not working you too hard, are they?"
Jack stopped and stiffened. His head snapped around as though Lucian's shadow might be lurking in the room. He leaned close and whispered with urgency: "Save me."
Layla blinked. "…Amira, mind if I talk with Jack for a moment?"
"Of course." Amira smiled and excused herself. "I'll go check on Lucian."
Layla crossed her arms. "Alright, spill it. What's going on?"
Jack rubbed his arms like a child warding off a chill. "It started right before you left. At first it was simple work, helping with the fields, fixing tools, tidying the shed. I could deal with that. But then it became every single day. From sunrise to sunset. He doesn't stop working. Not once." His eyes darted. "And if I complained—"
He swallowed. "One day, I asked for a break to go see Bell. He just stared at me. His face didn't change, but the air—" Jack shivered. "It felt cold, heavy, like I was breathing smoke. Then he told me to hold a horse squat for six hours. I laughed, called him crazy, and left anyway. But that night when I came back…" His voice faltered. "He was waiting on the steps. Arms crossed, looking at me like a disappointed father. He tossed me a water pouch and said, 'Run until I say stop.' The way he said it.." Jack swallowed again "I knew if I didn't run, he'd kill me."
Jack trembled. "We ran all night. I passed out and woke up in bed, somehow."
Layla tried not to grin.
"It only got worse," Jack went on. "Anytime I'd groan, complain, he'd just punish me. Horse stance until my legs collapsed. Chopping wood until I couldn't lift my arms. Swimming upriver so I couldn't fall asleep, And the whole time he made me repeat that stupid motto." Jack's voice pitched into despair. "'Strength comes with hardship.' Over. And over. And over."
Layla covered her mouth, laughing. "So that's what you meant."
Jack gawked. "Huh? You're not going to help me?! I'm being tortured!"
Layla waved him off. "You'll understand when you're older. There's a reason for everything kiddo."
Jack's shoulders sagged. "So you're not saving me?"
"Nope." Layla smiled tapping her lips with her finger.
A single tear rolled down Jack's cheek. His life flashed before his eyes.
Layla cleared her throat. "Other than that… anything else while I was gone?"
Jack straightened as if giving a report. "You mean the mission you gave me?"
"Exactly." Layla leaned forward.
"Well, nothing out of the ordinary. He's obsessed with growing crops, even whispers to them sometimes like a madman, talks to all the farmers, and learns all he can from them. Insanely protective of them as well! One time, I saw him vaporize a wild boar just for stepping onto the field. He didn't even move, just looked at it. Next thing I know, Poof! red mist. Then he went right back to planting."
Layla frowned. "…That's it?"
Jack scratched his head. "Oh, during full moons, he sleeps on the sofa instead of with Miss Ami. I asked once, and he just said—" Jack stiffened his expression, imitating Lucian's deadpan voice: "'Women things.'"
Layla clicked her tongue. "…I already know about that. Anything else? Meetings? Secrets?"
Jack shook his head. "Nope. Talks about crops, helping people, and Miss Ami. That's it." Jack tapped his chin as a memory started to resurface. "Well… there was one night he went to see that lizard guy. Ivan? Ivar?"
"Slivar?" Layla asked sharply.
Jack snapped his fingers. "Yeah, that's the one."
Layla narrowed her eyes. "Got it. Thanks, Jack." She ruffled his hair and sent him off. Under her breath she muttered, "So, Lucian… what are you planning with that slimy weasel Slivar?"
⸻
Meanwhile, Amira leaned against the bathroom door, her palms pressed flat against the wood. The faint crackle of water echoed inside, droplets hitting the basin rhythmically. Steam drifted through the gap beneath the door, carrying the sharp, clean scent of soap and earth from Lucian's skin.
Her heart hammered. 'What am I doing here?' she thought, chewing her lip. She wanted to knock, to tease him, to ask some silly question, anything to calm the butterflies in her stomach. For weeks she'd been too nervous to say what she really felt and instead just simply hinted at it, and now the words clawed at her throat.
She tilted her head pressing her forehead to the door, her silver hair brushing along her cheeks. Nervous excitement curled at the corner of her lips. 'Just say it, Ami. Just once. Tell him.'
The water splashed again, then stilled.
"…Ami?" Lucian's voice drifted through the door, low and steady.
She froze. 'He knew I was here?' Heat flared in her cheeks, and she nearly bolted, but her feet betrayed her, glued to the floor.
"Y-Yeah… it's me," she whispered, embarrassed at how breathless she sounded.
A pause. Then, softer: "You've come to talk again? I've… missed our bathroom conversations."
Her chest tightened. Slowly, a smile spread across her lips not quite reaching her eyes. She lifted her forehead from the door, both hands splayed wide. "Me too," she murmured. Her voice trembled with relief. "Actually… there's something I wanted to tell you."
Inside, the sound of water splashing stopped and footsteps grew closer. Then silence. She could feel him, standing just on the other side, close enough that the heat of his presence seeped through the wood.
"Really," Lucian said at last, his voice calm but heavier than before. "I was about to say the same."
Her heart fluttered wildly. Is he… is he finally going to…?
She twiddled her thumbs nervously, every word Layla had told her flashing in her mind. "Uh… you go first."
There was a quiet inhale, followed by the sound of him clearing his throat.
"There's something important that I have to do. So I have to leave—— for a while."
The words slammed into her like a hammer. Her smile crumbled. Her stomach dropped, heavy as stone, the air catching in her lungs. 'Leave?'
"…Oh." It was all she could manage, her voice barely audible.
The door creaked open. Lucian stood in the frame, half-dressed, still buttoning his shirt. Drops of water clung to his collarbone, trailing down to his chest. His face was unreadable, his grey eyes as steady as always.
"What was it you wanted to tell me?" he asked plainly.
Amira couldn't lift her gaze. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, but her silver hair fell forward like a curtain, hiding her expression. Her throat burned as she forced the words out.
"Just… that…. I'm excited to make the beet root dish for you."
Lucian gave a small nod. "That makes me happy." He said, rubbing her head slightly. "Don't worry about the field. Jack's more than capable enough."
He stepped past her and opened the closet, inside was a travel bag already packed. He adjusted the strap and threw it over his shoulder. As he stepped past her, he hesitated briefly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"…Take care of yourself…. Amira." His voice softened on her name, then hardened again as he turned and walked away.
⸻
Layla turned the corner and nearly collided with him. "Lucian, we need to talk ab—" Her words cut short when she saw Amira standing inside, tears dripping onto the floor. "…Never mind."
Lucian gave her a puzzled look but walked on.
Layla approached carefully, her crimson eyes softening as she took in Amira's trembling form.
"Is everything alright?" she asked gently.
"No," Amira sobbed, her voice cracking. "It most certainly is not." She collapsed into Layla's arms, clinging to her like a child. Her cries grew louder, hot tears soaking through Layla's shoulder.
Awkward but tender, Layla stroked Amira's silver hair. "What's going on, honey?" she asked, her tone hesitant but warm, almost like a mother.
"He's leaving!" Amira wailed, the words spilling out between gasps. "Even though he said he wouldn't!" Her sobs rose, raw and unrestrained, as the reality sank in deeper.
Layla froze mid-stroke, her hand still tangled in Amira's hair. "What?!" she blurted, her voice sharp. "After all the work I put into investigating him, he's just gonna walk away like that?" Her face twisted into anger, brows knitting tightly.
Amira stopped for just a heartbeat, sniffling as she looked up with watery, crimson eyes and a trembling pout. Her lips quivered as she whispered, "I knew it."
The words cut Layla deeper than she expected. "Aah—!" she stammered, her own words caught in her throat. Realization hit her like a slap. "It's not like that. I just… I thought it'd be best if you didn't know until I confirmed it."
"Not know what?" Amira pressed, her voice soft but wounded. Her nose was cherry red, her cheeks streaked with wetness.
'Maybe if I tell her, she'll let go of him faster… if I'm right that is.' Layla exhaled and steeled herself.
"My sources tell me he might be the so-called dead general from the human kingdom. Everything lines up, the timing from when you meet, the king's elite secret unit searching for him even though he's supposed to be dead, the description of his build, the short brown hair, and those unmistakable grey eyes. As for the four families… I believe he was talking about the big four noble families that run the human kingdom. The guardians of the borders, the Frostborne family. The keeper of history, the Everleaf family. The leaders of the holy church and advocates for the extension of any race besides humans, the Valebright family. And finally the royal bloodline family that always manages to take the throne for the human kingdom, the family that your father despised with his very being causing the first two holy wars, and the military powerhouse of the humans, the Bloodthrone family. Which would make Lucian…"
Ami's tears slowed, but her gaze stayed locked, waiting.
"Edric Bloodthrone," Layla continued cautiously, "or rather, Edric Lucian Bloodthorne. The same Bloodthorne family known as the greatest demon slayers in history."
Amira said nothing. Silent. Still.
Layla shifted uncomfortably. "It makes sense if you think about it. Your grandfather murdered their bloodline besides two young boys. Then one of those two boys killed your grandfather. In return, your father killed their duchess, Edric's mother. So that means Lucian is probably…"
Amira shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "He wouldn't."
Layla continued wrapped up in her own beliefs. "So he probably got close to you in order to kill you eventually. Revenge is in his blood—"
"He wouldn't," Amira repeated, firmer this time, though her lips trembled.
"The only thing that doesn't add up is why he didn't do it already," Layla admitted, frustration creeping in. "He had plenty of chances. And now he just… walks away? I can't tell if he's changed his mind or if he went to gather reinforcements—"
"HE WOULD NEVER DO THAT!" Amira cut in, her voice breaking as anger and grief fused together. Tears streamed anew down her face. "Even if he is a Bloodthrone, I saw it the moment we met, he never wanted to kill me!"
Layla's eyes widened at the raw conviction in her tone.
"You didn't know him like I did," Amira cried, clutching Layla's clothes in her fists. "He was the first person to treat me like I was normal. The first person to genuinely care since Mom and Dad died. The only person who didn't pretend to want me just so they could become the next demon king!"
Her voice dropped to a broken whisper. "He never looked at me like I was a freak… or an opportunity."
The words tumbled out of her, desperate, frantic:
"Bell told me when rumors spread about my silver hair here causing strange things to happen in the village, when they started calling me witch of calamity, that he'd save my leftovers from my cooking and share them with the townspeople. And when they asked for the recipe, he'd tell them it was mine, as if to prove that a so-called 'witch of calamity' couldn't possibly cook something so delicious."
Amira buried her face against Layla's chest, her words muffled but fervent. "And Bell said he bribed the kids at the orphanage with vegetables from his garden, just so they'd spread rumors about how kind I was!" Tears slipped down her thin neck "even if he is who you say he is I don't care! I… I love him!"
Layla blinked, taken aback. For once, she had no quick retort. Her hand paused momentarily before resuming the head pats.
"Maybe you're right," Layla admitted slowly. "That doesn't sound like a Bloodthrone at all." Her brows furrowed as she muttered to herself, "But then… why leave in such a rush?"
"I don't know," Amira cried, clutching her tighter. "I don't know!" Each word was punctuated by another sob.
Layla sighed and looked up at the ceiling, frustration twisting her features. 'Gods, I could really use a drink right now.'
Eventually, Amira's tears wore her down. Exhaustion claimed her, and she slumped, falling asleep in Layla's arms. With surprising gentleness, Layla carried her to bed, pulling the covers over her small frame. She lingered for a moment, brushing a strand of silver hair from her cheek, then left.