"non timebo mala"
(i will fear no evil)

• Rowan •

Opening his eyes, he looked towards the back of his hands that seemed way too small to be his. Yet, he knew that it was him and that he was dragged into this wretched dream once again.

He wanted to move but an unknowing force had rooted him to the ground as he watched his whole hands soaked in sickening red, the pool of red that contained the blood of the people he loved. Someone was pulling him by his hair as he was forced to watch the panic-stricken fear etched into the beautiful face of his mother.

Her startling blue eyes widened in horror as she kept screaming for him to run. His heart ached, as he struggled excruciatingly at the knowledge that this was how his mother had looked in the last moment of her life — betrayed by her mistaken love and mercilessly murdered by his despicable mistress.

As with every instance whenever he's in this realm of nightmare, a sword pierced through her back and came through her abdomen before her entire body flumped lifelessly into the pool of blood that had dyed the snow on the ground in an obnoxious shade of cruelty.

Biting hard on his lower lip, the force behind him was quickly released and he moved his trembling body towards the small girl that lay face down beside his mother. Turning her around, his heart shattered at the sight of her opened, empty blue eyes. He cradled her battered and bloodied body into his arms and hovered his hand over, closing her eyelids as he whispered softly to his dead sister, "Sleep, Lyra. Don't be in pain anymore."

The usual villainous cackle sounded in his ears, as he lifted his head and glared hatefully right at the loathsome mistress. She swung her sword but an invisible force had shielded him against that attack.

Rowan placed Lyra back on the ground carefully and stood with formidable gale rushing towards him an all direction. The air pressure increased with every step he took towards his father's mistress, Silvestra, and she soon fell on her knees with hands on her neck, choking for precious air. He held onto her head and incant in Iftiac. A sudden red glow surfaced under his palm as he drew her gift out into his palm.

"Give me back my gift!" she hissed through her lack of air. Her other hand reached him and gripped onto his arm, her nails clawed deep into his skin as he ripped her gift forcefully out of her and trapped it within him. The forcefulness burned his insides ferociously as her gift stirred his magic energy up in chaos. It was screaming to leave him as Silvestra attempted painstakingly to command her gift back to her. It felt like a force was bursting through the seams of his entire being, but he gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw, in violent attempt to contain it within him.

"Never," Rowan spat."Not after what you had done."

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Iftia: Royal Palace, The Queen's Bedchambers

• Queen of Iftia, Silvestra •

A sudden heave caused her to jolt up from her sleep and she sat upright panting as perspiration soaked her entire back. Taking a deep inhale, the rush of air into her deflated lungs had caused her to go into a fit of coughs.

"Your Majesty."

Silvestra turned to look at her attendant, Paige. Paige had supported her up into a sitting position and handed her a glass of water. Instead of taking it from her, she had swung her hand at the glass at full rage and it shattered resoundingly upon contact to the ground. She cussed, "That son of a bitch!"

Her hands clenched angrily into tight fists as she continued to scream in frustration. "He had held onto my gift for way too long, way too long since that bitch died!"

"Your Majesty, the anger is bad for your health," Paige carefully reminded.

"Bad for health?" Silvestra scoffed. "That bitch's son being alive is detrimental to me! I can't believe that killing Valeria Gauthier is not enough!"

"Your Majesty," Paige called out to her again. "Let the dead rest."

"Never." Silvestra whipped her head around and stared at Paige. Using a cautionary tone, she warned, "Remember who you serve, Paige. You used to serve that bitch, but now, you serve me."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The attendant lowered her head to express her apology.

Silvestra moved close to her and grabbed her by her jaw. Lifting her head up, she stared right into Paige's brown eyes and reminded, "Don't forget that the one who pushed Valeria towards the gates of death was you. And you're only pardoned from the crime of treason because of me. We don't want your head to roll from the guillotine, do we?"

Fear flashed across Paige's eyes and she stammered, "I-I beg f-for mercy, Y-Your Majesty."

A satisfied smirk lifted from a corner of Silvestra's lips as she swung her hand and shoved Paige away. The attendant stumbled from the force and fell to the side, her back impacted loudly against the post of her bed. Standing up from her bed, Silvestra grabbed a silk robe from the hanger by her bed and slid it up her shoulders. Fastening the waist knot, she walked towards the fireplace in her bedchamber and asked in a low voice, "What's Matthias up to?"

"His Highness had been spending most of his time with his consort," Paige responded weakly, still recovering from the impact of her hit. "She's said to be due in the coming Summer."

"That useless child of mine," she scorned. "It still irks me that Gadiel had even approved of their marriage without going through me, but at the very least, that girl's gift would serve me well."

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Iftia: Lyx Palace, The Gallery

• Rowan •

Without fail, he would find himself walking into the gallery after every single struggle through that nightmare. Walking down the dimly lit room, the paintings that hung on the wall seemed to follow him as he passed them. Each step he took stimulated his senses with the varied smell that mixed in the room: the intoxicating smell of oil paints, the piney fragrance of linseed oil and turpentine, the ashy aroma of charcoal dust and the pungent whiff of liquin.

He wasn't fond of collecting paintings, but his mother was obsessed with these beautiful things. After her passing, he had moved every single of her collection from Nvre Palace to his palace. His mother had also been a very skilful painter herself. Some of the ones hung within this gallery had been her masterpieces and he's especially fond of the one she had spent all her effort to paint him and Lyra playing in the gardens of Nvre.

Rowan continued his way down until he reached the other end of the room. Drawing the expensive red velvet curtains away, it revealed a large painting that the Royal Painter had done of his mother and sister. Mother had Lyra settled on her lap and the duo was smiling widely, looking like an exact replica of one another. Dark hair, bright blue eyes. Mother had never fancied extravagance, so she had always dressed simply. In this painting, she was clad in a plain, simple white gown with silver embroideries that matched very elegantly with his sister's pale blue gown. Even in simplicity, their beauties shone brighter than anything else.

Rowan stood in front of the painting, looking at both of them as he greeted them with a respectful nod. "Mother, Lyra."

Lifting his gaze to stare at the painting once again, he stood in silence as he felt the clench in his heart. The pain from losing them both was still raw and that intensity had never ceased since that day.

Just when he was lost in his thoughts, footsteps echoed through the gallery that caused him to turn around in alert. He caught sight of Ilias bowing towards him, "Your Highness."

"Ilias," Rowan acknowledged his presence. "I'm good. Please give me a moment of silence in here."

"As you wish." Once Ilias had confirmed that he was fine, he turned around and left the gallery. His footsteps sounded farther each time he walked away from him. When the door clicked shut, Rowan was once again the only one in the gallery again.

"Mother, I know this may not be what you wanted," Rowan mentioned, facing the lady in the painting. "But I had to make sure this blood debt is paid for. She's not going to get away with it. Not after what she did to you and Lyra."

Stepping forward once again, he lowered the velvet curtains to cover the painting and turned around to leave the gallery. Ilias had waited outside for him and at sight, Rowan asked, "Is everyone in the study?"

"Yes," Ilias responded simply.

"Let's go then," Rowan said. "The day doesn't wait."

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