Eiden sat submerged in a stone tub, steam rising around him in slow, ghostly curls that blurred the edges of the room.
The water was hot—bordering on scalding—but it was the only thing capable of reaching the deep, bone-deep ache in his muscles. Nearby, his travel-worn clothes and twin blades rested neatly on a wooden chair, the steel catching the flickering amber glow of the lantern.
Behind him, Aurelienne sat perched on a low stool, her sleeves rolled past her elbows and her golden hair tied back in a loose, practical knot. She dipped a rough cloth into the water and began to work, her motions slow and practiced as she scrubbed the grime of the road from his back.
"You realize I'm perfectly capable of washing myself, don't you?" Eiden muttered, his voice echoing slightly against the stone.
Aurelienne clicked her tongue in a sharp, rhythmic disapproval. "Based on the sheer amount of dirt I'm currently excavating, it seems 'washing regularly' hasn't been part of your itinerary."
She slapped his back lightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to make him grunt—and continued to lather him with a bar of soap that smelled sharply of crushed pine and mint. Eiden's wet hair clung to his skin, heavy and dark against his shoulders.
"So," she said, her voice softening as she rinsed the cloth. "Did you manage to speak with your parents? Or Selyndra?"
"I did, actually." He leaned forward, granting her better access to his shoulders. "A few days ago, after I left the Whitecrest estate. Selyndra found me. We talked."
Aurelienne's expression turned tender. "That's good. I'm glad you saw her." She paused, the cloth going still for a moment. "Your parents… I assume that went less smoothly."
Eiden let out a short, humorless huff. "Yeah. Safe to say your intuition is as sharp as ever."
After the bath, Eiden sat in a carved wooden chair, dressed in clean clothes that felt unnaturally light against his skin. His hair was still damp, hanging like a heavy curtain down his spine while Aurelienne stood behind him, working a wooden comb through the tangles with painstaking care.
"You need to start treating yourself like a living being, Eiden," she said, gently easing the comb through a stubborn knot. "I lost count of the new scars on your back. You need a break."
"If breaks were allowed in my circles," Eiden replied, leaning his head back, "we wouldn't be who we are. My group hunts for days without sleep. We only stop when the crown falls and the kingdom is ash."
Aurelienne froze, the comb mid-stroke. "About that..." Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Do you ever plan to stop?"
Eiden exhaled slowly, watching the shadows dance on the wall. "Soon. But it's a delicate thing. It's going to take time." He looked down at his calloused palms. "I'll tell you this much: me, Ou'weii, and Uzak'me are going to betray them. But the first domino has to be mine."
Aurelienne remained motionless, her breath hitching.
"The plan is for me to strike the ground at the perfect moment," Eiden continued, his voice low and cold. "The others won't suspect the other two. We'll split the group, scatter them so no one is left to watch each other's backs. That's when we vanish—start over. And eventually, we'll have to put Reia, Yajin, and Civilar in the ground."
He narrowed his eyes. "But it requires a performance. We have to play the part of enemies. We have to do things that won't be easy to stomach."
Aurelienne resumed brushing, though her movements were noticeably slower.
"For instance," Eiden said, "Ou'weii wants a son. I told him that when the boy is born, I want him to be part of something new—a group I'll build for the future. A path where the Eiden you see now is dead and forgotten."
Aurelienne frowned, her gaze shifting to the mirror. "But Civilar… can't he read minds whenever he pleases?"
"Usually," Eiden admitted. "But he's arrogant. He saves that for his enemies to dissect their intent. He doesn't waste the effort on his own hounds."
Aurelienne set the comb down on the dresser. The mirror caught both of them—her, calm and focused; him, hollowed out and distant. "There," she said. "Your hair finally looks like it belongs to a nobleman again. How do you like it?"
Eiden studied his reflection. "I like it."
"Good." She walked across the small room and sat on the edge of her bed, her hands folded tightly in her lap. "Now, tell me the rest. I want to know the details of this betrayal."
Eiden shook his head. "I can't. The rest is for those of us who have to execute it. It's safer if it stays behind my teeth."
Aurelienne raised her eyebrows, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. "Oh, I see. Secrets within secrets. Fine, I'll respect your silence."
A comfortable, heavy quiet filled the cabin. Eiden stood, the familiar weight of his blades returning to his waist and back.
"I have to go," he said, checking his gear.
Aurelienne looked up sharply. "Why so soon?"
"The Devils are launching a three-pronged assault tonight. My task is the Vampire King, Lord Zeth."
Aurelienne's face drained of color. She stood up, her voice trembling. "Eiden… if you fight him, you're walking into a grave. He is the God of Vampires. You're strong, but no magic, no invocation in that book of yours will save you from him."
She took a step toward him. "He controls the blood in your veins. He can turn your own heart against you. It's suicide."
Eiden turned toward the door, his hand hovering over the handle. "I'll be fine. Zeth and my father have a… complicated history. They're almost allies now, in their own twisted way."
He glanced back over his shoulder. "I believe he'll spare me. Don't worry."
He pulled the door open, the cool evening air rushing in to meet him. Aurelienne reached out, her fingers twitching as if to grab his cloak, but she stopped herself.
"Eiden..."
He didn't turn back. He stepped out into the night and began the long walk down the dirt road, leaving the village and its warmth behind.