CHAPTER 82: A DROP OF BLOOD

[Leif’s Pov—Commoner’s Market—Continuation]

The old woman’s voice was like a whisper carried by the wind—soft, aged, and yet... strange.

"Come here, my child," she said, her words floating like smoke through the air. "Perhaps you’ll find something meant for you."

Her stall was tucked deep in a shadowed corner, half-hidden behind curtains of bright fabric and strings of beads that chimed faintly with every breeze. The air around her seemed thicker—heavier somehow.

My feet moved before I even thought about it. It wasn’t excitement this time... it was something else. A pull. A quiet, invisible thread that wound around my heart and tugged.

I didn’t even realize I’d let go of Alvar’s hand until I heard Zephyy’s sharp voice. "MASTER!!"

The sudden cry snapped through the noise of the market. I froze mid-step, turning just enough to glance back at my pocket, where his little blue head was peeking out, eyes wide.

"Leif—" Alvar’s voice came from behind me, tense and commanding. Then, before I could take another step, he caught my wrist and pulled me close.

His touch grounded me instantly, but even then... I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the woman. She was smiling at me—softly, knowingly—like she’d been waiting all along.

"Leif," Alvar said, lowering his voice. "What happened? You look like you’re under a spell."

I blinked at him, trying to make sense of his words. "...A spell?"

Zephyy scrambled free from my pocket, fur fluffed like static. "Yes, master! I agree with your fiancé. You’re totally hypnotized and—" He sniffed the air and froze, his tail puffing. "—and I can feel it. Dark aura! Dark! Aura!"

Alvar’s grip tightened. His calm was a blade’s edge. "Leif. Step back."

But I couldn’t.

Their voices sounded distant now, like they were echoing from underwater. The pull wasn’t just in my head—it was in my bones. Something old and familiar, whispering.

"I’m not hypnotized," I whispered. "I can hear you. It’s just... something’s calling me."

The words left my mouth before I could stop them. And when I looked at her again, the old woman tilted her head slightly—her cloudy eyes catching the light in a way that made them glimmer faintly red.

"Come, child," she said again. "Your fate has waited long enough."

A shiver crawled up my spine. Somehow... I felt compelled. My hand slipped from Alvar’s hold again, and my feet carried me closer to the stall.

The old woman’s smile widened, her head tilting just slightly. "Would you like to take a look, my child? I have many things that may pique your eyes."

I glanced at the table, cluttered with trinkets, beads, and small ornaments. Before I could reach out, Zephyy leapt from my pocket onto the table with a soft thump.

His tiny blue ears flattened. "Hmph. I do not trust her."

The woman’s eyes twinkled. "My, my... what a beautiful blue cat."

Zephyy squinted, sniffed, and gave a tiny hiss, tail puffed like a blue brush. "I can feel it... dark aura... devil servant... possibly evil witch!"

Alvar, calm as ever but with an edge that could slice steel, stepped closer, placing his hand lightly on mine. "Leif... do not pick anything randomly. Stay alert."

I grinned, brushing his caution off with the charm only I could muster. "Do you think I’m a child, Alvar?"

He sighed, the sound of patience and worry mixed in a single breath. "Just saying."

I waved my hand, pretending to be nonchalant. "Relax. I’m just... looking around."

He nodded once, eyes narrowing slightly as he positioned his hand near the hilt of his hidden sword beneath the dark folds of his cloak. Sharp. Alert. Protective. Perfectly, Alvar.

Zephyy continued sniffing the air, suspicious, twitching his tail like a tiny radar. I, on the other hand... my gaze wandered over the beads, the glinting ornaments, and the delicate chains that caught the sunlight just right. And then something shimmered in the corner of the stall—black, almost pulsating, like it had a heartbeat of its own.

I leaned in closer. "These are... interesting."

The old woman’s smile deepened, just a fraction too knowing. "Ah... yes, these are special, my child. Very special indeed."

Zephyy’s fur puffed instantly. "Special means cursed, master! Haven’t you read any books?!"

I ignored him—classic mistake number one.

The black marble seemed to hum, low and steady, pulling at me harder than before. It wasn’t just calling me—it was recognizing

me.

Zephyy hissed quietly from the corner. "I do not like this. I really do not."

I knew when something tugged this strongly, it usually meant danger. Usually. And yet... for some reason, I felt like I had to have it. That black marble, ordinary at first glance, seemed to hold... something. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

The old woman’s gnarled hand suddenly moved between us. "Hold on, child," she said softly, almost soothingly. "Let me give it to you."

I nodded, heart pounding. She picked up the marble carefully, holding it in both hands as if it weighed more than it looked. Then, she extended it toward me.

The moment my fingers brushed it—sharp, sudden pain. "Ouch!" I yelped. Something stung like a thousand tiny needles pricking my skin. A single drop of blood fell onto the marble, and instinctively, I let go.

Alvar’s hand shot out, holding mine before I could pull away completely. "Leif! What happened?!"

I blinked down at the marble, now resting in her hands again, and whispered, "I... I think something sharp just pricked me. Just a sting."

The old woman’s cloudy eyes softened, but there was a shadow in them I couldn’t place. "I am sorry, my child... perhaps the marble was damaged. Are you hurt badly?"

I shook my head, holding up my hand. "No... just a drop of blood. I’m fine."

Alvar’s grip tightened on my wrist, grounding me. "We should go... now. We shouldn’t linger here."

I nodded, letting him pull me back. He carefully picked Zephyy from the table with his other hand, muttering something about keeping him away from danger, and guided me out of the stall.

But... I couldn’t shake the sight from my mind.

Even from a few steps away, I swore I saw the marble’s color shift. Where my blood had fallen, the black deepened—slowly bleeding into crimson.

And then, horrifyingly, it pulsed.Once.Twice.Like the slow, steady beat of a living heart.

Zephyy, tucked in Alvar’s arms, hissed quietly. "Master... I told you. This is bad. Really, really bad."

I swallowed, my pulse hammering in my ears. My blood... my touch... something had changed it. And the world felt a little colder, a little quieter, like it was holding its breath.

And I feel like something... had awakened because even though everything looked normal... yet nothing felt normal.

***

[Later—Market]

My mind was... totally blank. I was slumped on a wooden bench, Zephyy perched beside me, tail twitching nervously.

"Master..." Zephyy’s voice broke through my fog, flat and unimpressed.

I stared at him, voice shaky and Vacant. "I... I really saw it, Zephyy. The color... changing. Do you think it was... the marble? Do you think the marble changes the color like the Trivium core stone or—or—"

"Or a blood-bound artifact waiting to devour your soul?" he suggested cheerfully.

"...Helpful. Thank you."

Zephyy let out a long, exaggerated sigh, his ears drooping. "I don’t think it’s immediately dangerous, master... yet. But... congratulations. You are now officially more doomed than ever."

"Ughhh..." I groaned, slumping further, limbs flopping like a ragdoll. "Seriously... what is going on with my life?"

Before I could spiral further, strong arms lifted my chin. Alvar appeared at my side, calm as a glacier, and sat beside me for someone babysitting me 24/7. He gently guided my head to rest on his lap, fingers brushing softly through my hair.

"Here," he said, handing me a pink, fluffy cloud of cotton candy and a blue one to Zephyy. "Take a bite and relax. Whatever happens, I will fight for you."

I stared at the cotton candy like it was a miracle of the gods, then stuffed a huge bite into my mouth. "Alright... if you say so," I mumbled, chewing furiously.

Zephyy nibbled his blue candy, tail twitching nervously, still eyeing the market with suspicion. I was finally starting to recover from the sudden hypnotic pull at the stall, the blood-stained marble, and everything else that had nearly wrecked my mind...

Until a voice cut through the sweetness of the moment.

"Lord Leif... and Grand Duke Alvar?"

We both froze mid-chew.

No.No, no, no.I recognized that fucking tone. That vibe.

I turned slowly.Elowen stood there—poised, immaculate, and radiating judgment like it was a divine calling.

My soul deflated. "...Seriously? Can I not have one peaceful moment?"

Alvar’s hand tightened slightly over mine—steady, protective—but his expression screamed brace for impact.

And me? I just sat there, holding my cotton candy like it was my last shred of happiness.

Because somehow, I knew the day had decided: Yes, Leif, it can absolutely get worse.