His name was Cyrus. The handsome and charming troubadour whom captivated most of nobility with his voice. He was the talk of the capital as well as the talk of most noble ladies. From the men, it was never pleasant. The women, everything pleasant.

However, one thing the nobility came to a consensus of. He was a pretty face with an angelic voice, whose words were coated in honey. Cyrus was the most sought out singer, his schedule always booked to the brim. Perhaps that was why it was of no surprise when rumors of flings spread. A flirtatious man looking to fool around. A coward-like womanizer. A deceitful bastard.

Yet despite such rumors, his schedule remained busy. Showing no signs of change. The only difference, nobles had started to slowly go missing. But what did that matter? These self-centered nobles were only concerned for themselves. Disappearances of other nobles were the least of their concern.

Right. Least of their concern. That is until a disappearance had something to do with them…

Your sister had gone missing only days after one of her private meetings with the shameless troubadour. He had managed to get to your sister, tainting her head and her heart which only contained a garden for thoughts. Though you found your sister foolish, you still loved her. And you were determined to find her. Determined to interrogate the man she last saw. You just hoped you could resist.

Of course, that was only wishful thinking. You melted under his intense gaze, falling victim to his intoxicating voice once more. The siren’s melody was keeping you grounded in your chair as he performed before you. As the hypnotic dream ended, Cyrus stared upward in a daze. His smile was dreamy, hand hovering over his chest. His voice was a soft whisper, like a sweet murmur.

“Their deaths were sweet, their death gentle.. their death was kind for death healed the bruised spirit and the broken heart. Death is a man’s best friend; when man can endure life no longer.. Death is beautiful… wouldn’t you agree?”