Chapter 51
I stared at the enormous white entrance door.
It was my first time here, and I felt a bit anxious about entering the king's territory—someone who didn't like me one bit.
Zion stepped aside, giving me room to move, and we entered the brightly lit space, climbing a flight of stairs.
Inside, the floor was white marble, and countless paintings of ancient monarchs decorated the walls.
The vaulted ceiling gave the impression that everything here would be extravagant, and a golden counter on the right exuded wealth.
“Hello, dear general.” A woman with long blonde hair rose from behind the counter and followed after us. Her voice sounded like honey, but with a sour note woven through it. She wore a tight red dress that clung to her body, and her lips were the most striking thing about her.
I felt Zion stiffen and position himself at my side, fluidly blocking the woman following us. His movement reminded me of a snake. Some shadows jumped onto my shoulders, contracting at the sight of her.
“We didn't come for the king. There's no need for an escort,” Zion said, marching at my side. He was rigid, as if he might enter combat at any moment.
The woman stopped beside the table, her eyes sizing me up as if we were at a meat market and I was a succulent ham.
When she blinked, a second membranous eyelid opened a moment later.
The eyes of a hungry serpent. A gorgon. She licked her lips while looking at Zion, and a bubbling rage rose in my throat.
I wondered how many times Zion had fed Kaori and how many of those times they'd slept together.
Besides being handsome, he had blood that drew attention for its power level.
He was a perfect banquet for any gorgon.
Now I began imagining countless scenes of how Kaori fed, and my hands grew sweaty with desperate discomfort.
Meanwhile, he kept guiding me toward the elevator, almost pushing me by the waist.
“Just keep walking, don't pay attention,” he whispered beside me.
I wouldn't dare pay attention. Gorgons were known for being temperamental. They controlled themselves to function in society, but that control tended to be fragile and easily broken.
Just ahead stood three elevators, each leading to a different tower. Zion led us to the one on the right. Before we could press the button, however, the door beeped and opened, revealing a smiling Serguei.
“Hello, children,” he greeted us.
He was wearing his usual gray smoking jacket, and among his dark blond hair—neatly combed back—a few gray strands showed. Serguei looked like an underworld boss.
“Happy birthday!” I exclaimed, lifting the cake to eye level.
He looked at me, confused.
“A cake?” he questioned, frowning and stepping aside to make room.
“A cake!” I confirmed, wondering if it wasn't obvious.
“For me?” Now he seemed unsettled.
“I don't see another Serguei besides you.” I pointed to the cloud with his name.
He stared at the cake as if it were a seven-headed beast, then extended a ring-covered hand to touch it, but quickly pulled back. He looked at me with something resembling... happiness.
“It's a beautiful cake,” Serguei said, returning to his excited tone. “Shall we go up? The food is already served.”
Zion and I entered the elevator. Serguei observed him with interest, focusing on his swollen mouth, but neither of them exchanged a single word. It was as if words were monsters and they were afraid of being attacked.
“Sirena?” Serguei called. His voice turned harsh, so different from usual that it made me shudder.
She flinched, lowering her head in submission.
“I'm reading all your thoughts, and I'm going to leave you a warning: if you look at, touch, or think about Kyller again, you won't live to see the dawn.” She shrank further. “Are we understood?”
The medusa lowered her head.
“Yes, sir,” she murmured softly.
The elevator closed and I suppressed a smile as I glanced at him sideways. His face was severe, still staring at the door as if he could see Sirena on the other side.
“You can't kill,” I whispered, as if it were both a question and a statement.
“No gorgon, human, or faerie. That's what the blood pact demands!” Serguei responded, returning to his amused expression and rocking on his heels. “But she doesn't know that.”
When his eyes turned to me, they were soft. A smile formed on my lips, and I looked away.
“I swear I don't understand why the palace receptionist is a medusa,” I murmured. “I mean, it doesn't make sense—she'll scare away any visitor.”
“That's exactly the reason. The king doesn't like visitors, and there's nothing better than having a starving serpent in the entrance hall.”
He put his hands in his pockets, exactly as Zion did.
“But being so close to society, doesn't she attack the guests?”
Medusas could attack if they were very hungry, even more so if provoked, which was why they preferred to stay away from the five nations, living outside the walls in a place called the Serpents' Fort, east of Interion. Serguei turned to Zion and smiled, as if remembering something.
“It only attacks foolish, unsuspecting people with enticing blood. There’s a story etched in these walls...” He gestured around the room, wearing a half-smile that spelled trouble. “It tells of a boy who was once bitten for being... Guess what?”
“Foolish?” I asked, mouth agape.
“Exactly, a complete fool! And do you know what we discovered from that incident?”
“That a gorgon is dangerous?”
That was pretty obvious. I thought of Kaori again and felt confused. She certainly didn’t fit the description of gorgons. Serguei laughed, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
“We discovered that serpents and shadows are natural enemies—they repel each other and can’t harm one another. But... it’s better not to talk about that,” he said, turning to me and whispering deliberately loud in my ear. “The boy is still sensitive about it.”
I wanted to laugh. Zion had been attacked by a gorgon? At that moment he was sulking in his corner, pretending not to pay attention, but his clenched jaw gave him away.
“Sirena is the king’s lover, and he feeds her well. There’s a feeding room here in this palace, with five willing providers and the king himself. So there’s no reason for her to attack—only to scare.”
“So the king has eccentric tastes.”
I caught myself imagining the two of them together, but soon my treacherous mind made me picture Kaori and Zion instead.
I looked in the elevator mirror and saw myself blushing when I noticed Serguei and Zion watching me.
Something about my scent must have been giving away my thoughts. Serguei cleared his throat:
“The sun brought out your beauty.” He smiled at me. From his anxious tone, I could tell he was trying to distract me from morbid thoughts about Kaori. “Your freckles are adorable today. I could even say you’re the most beautiful Drute I’ve ever seen.”
My cheeks flushed even deeper, and I did everything I could to avoid looking at either of them. I felt like I was going to disintegrate right there.
“Thank you,” I said awkwardly. Only Breno ever complimented me, but never so directly. Everyone else usually found me strange, and their opinion outweighed my only friend’s.
I stared at myself in the mirror and tried to see what Serguei saw.
I was different. Too different to be pretty, and I found my eyes frightening.
They were large and gleamed gold. In fact, all my features were strong, angular, and expressive, especially my highly arched eyebrows.
People were probably right to find me strange—I really was different from the delicate fae of Interion.
In the end, Serguei’s compliment reached my ears, but not my heart.
The elevator stopped, and Serguei and Zion led me out. We walked down a carpeted hallway lined with paintings and sconces. We reached the end of the corridor and finally stopped in front of a golden door.
“Welcome to my home!” he said, opening the door.
The first thing that reached my senses was the soft melody of a violin playing through the sound system. The second, no less pleasant, was the delicious smell of the banquet laid out on a long carved wooden table to the left.
I walked through the apartment, taking in everything around me.
It was a lofty, spacious, and very well-organized space, but despite its size, there were no dividers between rooms—everything was exposed.
On the far side I saw a living room with a giant screen, and to Serguei’s right, a balcony extended outward, revealing a long, narrow pool that began inside the apartment and ended in an infinity edge on the balcony.
The entire exterior portion of the apartment was surrounded by heavy black curtains, and only one of the huge windows was open, showing a view of the well-lit city center.
The only walls that weren’t glass had been transformed into shelves lined with countless books.
There were only three doors in the place, and I suspected they were bathrooms.
Zion sat on the gray velvet sofa, wearing the same expression as me, as if every detail were a surprise.
I couldn’t help but notice a huge painting of a woman with an intriguing smile.
It hung on the farthest wall, next to a round bed set on black marble steps.
The monochromatic apartment was beautiful, but very open and exposed. Exactly like a mind without barriers.
“You have excellent taste, Serguei,” I said, heading to the table and setting the cake in its center.
He looked at the cake with such interest that he barely heard the compliment.
When he shifted his attention from the cake, he focused on me, and I felt as if something had pierced my spine.
I put my hand on my chest—it hurt in a strange way.
Suddenly, his presence flooded my mind.
“How rude, lying to me. You don’t need to pretend you like my house.”