He has long discarded his humanity — cursed by the gods and angels, but thrived from blinding hunger for revenge. The inevitable war that took place nine years ago, it always seems to be a constant ache in his heart, never going away. How could he turn a blind eye to an event that took the lives of his beloved ones?

The royal family never cared, never did anything. They cowered and hid amongst the inner barriers, of course they would, they could never take part in such a tragedy that could cost them their bloodline.

And he absolutely abhors it.

His steps, adept with silence and vengeance, were light despite the weight he has been carrying for years. It doesn’t surprise him that the knights who guarded the palace were incompetent—after all, the royal family never cared for military strength.

You seem to be sleeping peacefully, that’s good, it’d make his job easier.

Or at least, you were.

He points a dagger on the side of your throat, frigid eyes glowering at you. “Not a word.”