Royal Bastard's Bloodstained Regression-Chapter 112: Silk, Jealousy, and Sharp Tongues

The tension still lingered in the room, but Daemon chose to ignore it. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall, shifting the conversation.

"We have to move forward with the plan," he said, his voice steady. "Six days from now is my birthday... and the day of my dear brother’s coronation."

He glanced around the room. "Things will get interesting."

Varian lit up. "Wait—your birthday? Oh, hell yeah! I’ve never been to a royal birthday before. I’ve seen a coronation once. The food was—"

"Stop talking about food," Nyxtriel cut in, glaring.

"Just saying," Varian muttered. "Would be a crime to waste cake."

William stepped forward with a serious tone. "My lord, is there anything you need us to do to help? You’ll be busy with palace matters, right?"

Daemon nodded. "Actually, yes. I need something... specific."

They leaned in, curious.

"Do any of you know where I can find gunpowder?" Daemon asked calmly. "I need to set a bomb."

Silence.

Varian blinked. "...You’re going to blow up Varyndor?"

"Yes," Daemon replied like he was ordering tea. "It’s a gift. A small, fiery message for my beloved brother—reminding him that the people he cherishes will die, painfully. My revenge comes first. My fragments come second."

William didn’t flinch. "I know a place. Back in Velmira. There’s a black-market dealer that trades in powder."

"Good," Daemon said. "How long will it take to go and return?"

"Four days, if we hurry."

"Then Varian will go with you."

"What?! Why me?" Varian stood up.

"Because William is acting like the adult here," Daemon replied flatly. "You could learn something."

Varian turned slowly to see William smirking at him, full of smug victory.

"I swear, if that kid smirks at me one more time—"

Daemon raised a hand. "Enough. Tomorrow, the two of you leave. I’ll give you money and arrange a horse. Move quickly, avoid guards, and don’t draw attention."

Varian sighed in defeat. "Fine. Babysitting duty it is."

Daemon nodded. "While you two are gone, Nyxtriel and I will handle preparations here."

Nyxtriel smiled faintly. "We’ll be busy."

Varian groaned. "You two alone again? Great. If I come back and find out you’ve burned half the city already—"

"You won’t," Daemon said, then smiled darkly. "We’ll wait for your part to arrive first."

Varian turned to William. "You owe me for this."

"I’ll buy you a pastry," William said.

Daemon chuckled under his breath.

Six days.

And then the empire would bleed.

•••••••••

Morning in the royal palace.

Daemon stood half-dressed in his chambers, the morning light cutting across his bare back as the maids hurried around him with robes and fresh silks. He could hear them giggling behind him as they whispered about his lean muscles like he wasn’t right there.

"He looks more like a war god than a prince..."

"Shh! He’ll hear you!"

"I want him to hear me."

Daemon exhaled slowly through his nose. Unbelievable.

Knock knock.

Lady Vexen glided to the door, every step deliberate. She opened it, chin already high—and her smile flickered when she saw her.

Nyxtriel stood on the threshold, arms crossed, her stare sharp enough to cut silk.

"My lord requires me," she said.

Vexen tilted her head, voice honeyed with venom. "Your lord is dressing. That’s not something he needs help with."

Nyxtriel’s eyes narrowed. "We’ve known each other long enough. I’ve seen him shirtless before."

Vexen smiled wider, crueler. "How quaint. I’ve seen him since he was shirtless, when he could barely walk straight. Perhaps your... ’bond’ is something you’ve mistaken for privilege."

"I don’t mistake anything," Nyxtriel said coldly. "Especially not the expression on your face."

"Oh?" Vexen’s lashes fluttered. "And what expression is that?"

"The one women wear when they’re losing."

Vexen’s face twitched, just once, before the smile returned.

"I’m merely doing my duty. Which includes making sure strangers with delusions of importance don’t think they belong at his side."

"Belong?" Nyxtriel stepped closer, unbothered. "I’m not here to belong. I am his."

"His what exactly?" Vexen asked, mock-innocent. "Weapon? Pet? Or just a warm distraction?"

"Better that," Nyxtriel said, her voice low, "than a bitter maid with a key to a door she’ll never open."

Vexen’s smile dropped for half a second.

Inside, Daemon adjusted his sleeve. He heard every word.

"Who’s at the door, Vexen?" he called, casually.

"A servant," she replied tightly, forcing the composure back.

"Let her in. I know it’s Nyxtriel."

Vexen’s teeth clenched. "As you command, my lord."

Nyxtriel stepped inside without another word, brushing past Vexen like she didn’t exist.

Daemon was fully dressed now, standing by the window. He turned as Nyxtriel entered—his gaze immediately catching the tension in her face.

"You didn’t have to come. I was going to find you anyway."

She met his gaze, her usual sharpness softened. "I didn’t come because I had to. I came because I wanted to." Then, casually, she glanced at Vexen and the maids still lingering at the door.

Daemon waved them off. "You’re dismissed."

Vexen clenched her jaw, then bowed stiffly and walked out with the rest of the maids. Nyxtriel smiled sweetly at her just before the door shut.

Out in the hallway, the maids immediately began whispering.

"Did you see how His Highness looks at her?"

"He’s never cared about anyone like that before..."

"They’re kind of cute together—"

"Shut up!" Vexen snapped.

The hallway fell silent.

Vexen stormed ahead, face tight with frustration. Why him? Why her?

Why was she jealous?

Daemon, that brat who once cut off her finger without blinking, was now smiling—smiling for someone else. Ever since that outsider girl arrived, he had been different. Softer. Protective.

She’d seen that look in his eyes before... but never directed at her.

It reminded her of another time, years ago—when Queen Bianca married King Aleric. Vexen had been younger then, full of dreams and envy, watching a woman take what she thought should have been hers. Now, watching Daemon and Nyxtriel, the bitterness returned.

That outsider won’t last long, she promised herself.

Meanwhile, in the privacy of Daemon’s chambers, the mood was quieter—but no less tense.

"I guess we should head out soon," Daemon said as he adjusted his sleeve. "We need to escort Varian and William to the city gate. After that, I’m meeting the captain for training."

"I see," Nyxtriel replied softly.

He watched her for a moment. She seemed distant—mind elsewhere.

"It’s strange," he added. "Gabriel hasn’t visited me yet. He used to stop by every morning when we were kids. I guess people really do change."

"I see..."

Daemon narrowed his eyes. She wasn’t listening at all. He decided to test her.

"I’m killing myself," he said flatly.

"I see."

A beat passed.

Then her eyes widened in horror. "Wait—what?! My lord, no! You can’t!"

Daemon smirked. There she is.

"I knew you weren’t paying attention. What’s on your mind?"

Nyxtriel looked away, crossing her arms. "It’s that woman."

"Vexen?"

"Yes. She’s irritating. I think she has a thing for you."

Daemon laughed, eyes gleaming. "Vexen? You really think she has a thing for me? She’s twelve years older and literally watched me grow up—probably changed my diapers once. And I cut off her finger, remember? I’m not exactly her idea of a prince charming."

Nyxtriel crossed her arms. "Still... the way she looks at you—it’s not nothing."

Daemon paused, then slowly grinned. So that’s what this is...

He stepped closer. "Are you jealous?"

"No. I’m not."

"You sure?" He closed the distance, just a step away now.

"I said I’m not jealous!"

"Alright, alright..." Daemon chuckled, turning slightly. "I believe you."

Nyxtriel exhaled, rolling her eyes.

Then he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

She froze. Eyes wide. Her fingers brushed the spot where his lips had been, her expression completely undone.

"We should get moving," he said calmly, already walking off. "Varian and William are probably waiting."

Nyxtriel nodded, still recovering.

And as she followed him out, she caught a glimpse of the faint blush rising behind Daemon’s ear.

So he’s flustered too, she thought, smiling to herself.

As Daemon and Nyxtriel stepped outside, they spotted Varian and William being escorted down the hallway—by none other than Vexen.

"My lord," she said with a graceful bow, "these two said they didn’t know where your chambers were. I took the liberty of guiding them—and they asked me to prepare a horse as well."

Daemon raised an eyebrow. "I don’t recall sending you to do that."

"Oh, but I’m your servant, my lord," Vexen replied with a warm smile. "It’s only natural I assist you in every way I can."

"Morning, my lord!" William beamed.

"Yeah, morning," Varian added, stretching.

Daemon turned to them. "Let’s go then. Didn’t you two want to eat first?" freёnovelkiss.com

"Now that you mention it, I’m starving," Varian said.

"The food should be ready in five minutes," Vexen said smoothly. "If you’d like, my lord, I’ll escort them to the dining room."

She took the lead with a poised grace that irritated Nyxtriel to no end.

Daemon followed, but not before glancing back at Nyxtriel—whose clenched jaw and narrowed eyes made it clear she was holding herself together by sheer will.

Amused, he gently reached for her hand.

Nyxtriel looked at him, surprised—but the gesture reassured her. She sighed and gave him a quiet smile.

Daemon blinked. That smile again... He looked away, heart skipping unexpectedly. Damn it.

From behind, Vexen saw it all—the hand-holding, the silent exchange—and paused, her eyes cold.

She slowed her pace until she was walking beside Daemon again.

"My lord," she said casually, her voice honeyed with a touch of venom, "would you like to know what’s been happening in the palace since you left?"

Daemon nodded. "Yeah. Give me a summary."

Vexen smirked, casting a quick glance over her shoulder at Nyxtriel—whose eyes practically burned holes through her.

She was enjoying this.

Let’s see how long this outsider can keep your attention, Vexen thought.