𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ♱ ྀིsaintsexta𓂃 ࣪˖

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Incessant whining filled your ears for hours straight, it was your best friend.

“Can’t you just go babe? I have to take a rain check, pretty please…hmm?” Your best friend pleaded with her signature puppy eyes, knowing you can’t say no to her.

“You know I haven’t been in the dating scene for a while…I just don’t know if I can do this.” You remarked, with a slight somber attitude following.

“I’ll give you 500.” Her face changed from a snarky smile to a serious, desperate one in a matter of seconds.

“Deal. But you owe me one.” You snapped.

It doesn’t help as well that you’ve had a pounding headache the whole entire day, in addition; Your boss has been taking his frustration out on the whole of your team.

Within the next hour or so, your best friend dolled you up like a pretty porcelain doll.

“Y/N you look stunning! Your date is gonna fall for you I just know it.” Your best friend exclaimed.

“…you mean your date?” You pressed on, completely detached from the whole ordeal.

“Oh it doesn’t matter…live a little for Christ’s sake. Your uber will be here in 5, I have to go now though—let me know how it goesss!”

The next second, your best friend dashed out of the house, leaving you all alone with the extra amount of money she gave you and her lipstick in your hand.

You were stood in front of the mirror, noticing how your hair was in a delicate, sophisticated updo, and a concerning amount of shimmery body spray sparkled against your skin—the red tight-knit body con dress she picked out for you hugged your curves, you looked absolutely irresistible.

The next second you get a notification, announcing that your Uber was here.

Thus, you dashed out the front door, your YSL heels clinked in unison as you made you way to the uber.

“…Uber for Y/N?” A man poked his head out of the Mercedes Benz, awaiting a response.

“Yes, that’s me” you answered.

“Great, hop in.”

Then for the next 30 minutes, you’re entertaining the bothersome driver in your uber. Hell—you were even excited for your date now because of how boring this person was.

Finally, you arrive at your destination—iridescent floor lights gleam against your clutch, you make your way to the fancy restaurant after you waved your uber goodbye.

It’s stunning. The aroma of the food envelops your nose immediately, the marble floors reflect your tall stature, you look like a goddess, turning heads wherever you walked. Emerald green booths filled the whole restaurant, the gold trim following it. Descending spiral chandeliers were scattered all over the place as well. The whole restaurant feels intimidating, but very luxe.

You stare at the waiter, she’s looking down at the computer screen—probably sorting something out, you assume.

“How many for?” The waitress asked in a cheerful tone, as she glances off of the computer.

“One table for Y/N at 7PM.”

“Awesome, your acquaintance is already at the table” she remarked, following ahead of you—as she guides you to the table.

“Okay here you are, here are your guys’ menus, just give us a shout when you’re ready, and we’ll be right over.”

“Thank you” you replied, glancing over to the blue haired man looking out the window.

“Hi, I am Y/N and…you are?”

A cocky, husky voice proceeded to speak: “Oh, didn’t see ya there. Names Grimmjow, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.” You turn to look at him, his eyes light up with shock, thinking he got lucky with his date.

You too do the same.

He’s wearing a formal suit, his hair, slicked back…and a singular strand falling down effortlessly—still managing to look good on him. Your eyes can’t help but wander on his wide frame, his muscles, also very noticeable through his white shirt.

“Your name is Y/N? What a pretty name, have a seat…I don’t bite.”

Your eyes blink in realisation as you notice what you’re doing, and you immediately look up.

“Thank you, you come here often, or is it your first time coming to this place?” You spoke.

“Nah, but I’d come here more often if I got to see a beauty like you everyday.” He slyly smirked, his head cocking to side in amusement, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he speaks.

You blush from the unexpected teasing from a man you just met, you cannot deny though…he was extremely attractive, you can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if your best friend could have made it.

“Im just teasing! Do you wanna order now…or?” He prodded on, awaiting your response.

You look down at the menu, but your mind is already racing. The headache you had suddenly vanishes, replaced by a completely different kind of tension. “Let’s just go get a drink first,” you murmur, meeting his intense ocean-blue eyes.

Dinner flies by in a blur of low-toned laughter, playful flirting and banter. Grimmjow doesn’t take his eyes off of you whilst sipping his drink. By the time you both step out of the restaurant, the night air is cool against your shimmery skin, but your feel completely flushed.

Both of you are both intoxicated by the amount of alcohol you both drank during your date.

“So, Y/N, the nights still young—wanna keep this going? My place is right around the corner.” His eyes show an intense hunger for the first time, you honestly were expecting anything but this. His husky voice melting into honeyed words—sweet and alluring, just the words you’ve been wanting to hear.

“Let’s go to my place,” you whisper, knowing damn well this isn’t even your date and you weren’t even technically supposed to be here.

The uber ride is anything but boring, instead it’s filled with anything but small talk. But the moment the car door clicks shut, Grimmjow heavy arms slides over your shoulders, his heavy frame crushing your curves. His large, calloused hands rests heavily on your bare thigh, tracing slow, agonising circles on your skin. You catch the uber driver sneaking glances through the rear view mirror, but Grimmjow doesn’t care. He leans down, his lips brushing down your ear shell. “You taste just like that sweet ass wine,” his voice dropping an octave, whilst you feel his hot breath against your skin, making you unintentionally gasp in return.

The second your apartment door slams shut, all control vanishes.

Grimmjow pins you against the hard wood of the door, his heavy frame using your curves. His hands immediately finding your waist.

“You do this a lot?” You question, before you can even catch your breath, his lips slam onto yours.

“Shut up.” Both of your lips intertwine with a thirst for hunger. Chaotic, dominant and utterly breathless, you can taste whiskey and pure desire from his mouth whilst your hands hold onto his once neat slicked hair, now messy and unruly, Grimmjow groans, a deep rumbling sound coming from his chest.

A soft moan slips out of your lips as he starts to trail down your neck, he’s hungry. Giving you hickeys immediately after you guys just met.

What a man.

Then you both look at each other after a few fleeting seconds, both of you…want more.

He shifts, his hands moving down to cup your hips. You lean against him, you’re shivering in anticipation—you suspect he’s feeling the same. You wrap your legs around his waist, your YSL heels scraping against the door. He carries you to the bedroom door without breaking the kiss. His lips moving down to your jaw, then burying them into the crook of your neck once again.

“Fuck, if I had known you would taste this good, I would’ve ravaged you sooner.” His teeth lightly grazing your collarbone, right where the shimmery body spray glitters in the dim light. You arch your back into his touch, your fingers gripping his broad shoulders, feeling the thick muscles under his white shirt.

Your body responds in different ways to his specific touch; in no way any other man has made you feel before.

Your skin feels hot and ignited with this unfamiliar sensation, his hands slipping into your nether region. You moaned loudly in response, before you could even speak, a gentle voice cuts in,

“You’re doing so good for me doll. Carry on moaning for me.”

You look up at him, quivering in response to those words—so you continue to do exactly just that.

After a few minutes, he tosses you onto the mattress, hovering over you like a predator. His ocean-blue eyes are dark, completely wild with hunger. He strips himself off his suit jacket in one fluid motion, tossing it onto the floor, and he continues to slowly unbutton the top three buttons of his shirt, exposing his chest.

“You’re a dangerous distraction, Y/N.” Grimmjow smirks, a dangerous, cocky edge returning back to his voice as he leans down. His hands pinning your wrists above your head.

“But until dawn arrives, you’re not leaving my side.”

You look at him completely breathless, your heart hammering beneath your ribs. Your best friend’s money is forgotten. Your headache is gone. All that matters is the blue-haired man towering over you, ready to make you forget everything until dawn.

Chapter 2 The Ego Death of Marble and Lies 🪽་༘࿐𝄞𝄢℘

I can feel Felix’s icy stare, lingering on me, whilst I stare with horror at the documents in front of me. An official asylum admittance certificate? A warrant for involuntary confinement? Is that why Felix is staring at me with a smug expression?

“You see, Miss Lisenne, if you claim you two are betrothed, I must ascertain your true intentions in seeking my medical intervention, of course, though you say your union is on the verge of breaking—you two are only merely engaged, if I am correct?” Felix questions, his pen again rhythmically tapping against the sleek, rufous wood.

"Yes, Doctor, as I mentioned earlier, my fiancé has been looking lustfully at other women! That’s not reputable for my house. Furthermore, I am truly heartbroken; it's as if my dearest doesn’t understand a thing about me—“

“Oh?” Felix cocks his head to the side whilst impolitely interrupting me.

“He doesn’t understand a thing about you? How so? Could your ‘dearest’ tell me any basic information about your father? If you truly are in a crisis of domestic affliction, then pray tell—do you know, Mister Peregrine?”

My eyes widen; I trail Felix’s gaze—seeing that they’re locked onto Peregrine’s.

He’s sweating. Oh lord. Cedric did tell me once that the noble ladies normally come here to have their troublesome relations certified and locked away in public ruin. I think he prattled on about how the clinical intake examination would typically take one to two hours. Surrounding us, the air grows immensely heavy.

The clock ticking is even more intense than the emperor asking for me to become betrothed this year.

TICK. TOCK. TICK. TOCK.

A few simple words break the claustrophobic silence.

“Yes, I do,” Peregrine replied—his golden-jade eyes piercing through Felix’s intimidating prod.

He proceeds to look up,

“Alistair Lisenne was the youngest of the Lisenne household to ever slay thirty thousand blood-lustrous fallen angels in Vorena, 20 years ago. Along with the other houses, Vesperis managed to slay ten thousand…and Solari, also managing to also slay ten thousand."

Peregrine pauses for a second, looking at me with a crooked smile, his fangs visible, sharp and curled.

He inhales and exhales before venturing another response.

“Everyone knows that if you're befallen by the fallen angel curse, you’re either granted supreme power, a hybrid of both human and an angel, or you go mad and lose your body autonomy, simple as that. Which is why Miss Lisenne is known as the Ephemeral Priestess of Death, the Sun-Shorn executioner—an otherworldly beauty whose gifted physical prowess defies Discordia, dissolving hordes of rampant, devilish angels with a single merciless wave of Hemera’s light.”

Felix’s eyes blink heavily in disbelief.

“You are very right. Mister Peregrine", Felix continued to clear his throat before pressing on.

“Miss Lisenne must really love you, since no one even dares to call Miss Lisenne by those titles around her.” The doctor flashes a condescending smile whilst he looks at his watch.

“Well, that is all we have time for today. I have concluded that you two may need further intervention; however, I will send Miss Lisenne the certificate for her to think about in the meantime. This ends our session today.”

My heart hammered against my ribs, a chaotic contrast to my upright posture. I smile politely at the doctor before ruthlessly snatching the asylum admittance certificate, the heavy papers…crinkling beneath my gloved fingers. We move cautiously to the looming oak door, our boots echoing in the sudden, sharp silence.

The moment the heavy door clicked shut behind us, cutting us off from the suffocating pressure of Felix’s office, I dragged Peregrine into the shadow of a deep mahogany alcove. I aggressively grabbed him by his wet lapels, pinning him against the wall.

“WHO ARE YOU?!” I hissed under my breath, my crimson eyes burning into his golden-jade ones.

I stared at him in utter disbelief. Visible fangs, gold eyes…and my intuition was screaming at me the whole entire time. The house of Solari. It all clicked in pure horror; the public thought the great houses were holy purifiers. They didn’t know the dark truth gate-kept in our vaults—that to keep our divine power alive, we had to breed with the non-rampant devils themselves. My own mother had been one.

But Solari hybrids were immensely different; their alchemical mind-manipulation required a physical catalyst. They didn’t just cast spells; they injected their fearsome abilities to subdue their target by sinking their teeth into flesh to inject their mental poison.

Frantic in anticipation that the guards would be watching, I muttered under my breath, “You’re an unregistered Solari. Are you insane?! Were you seriously planning to bite the head doctor of Everfall?“

Peregrine’s demeanour shifted instantly, his eyes tracking the singular mole near my eye, sitting underneath my platinum-curled lashes.

My eyes are tracking his scattered moles in return.

Looking me in the eye, his stature became more apparent. Though I am certain we are almost the same height, I could feel the weight of his energy in this fleeting, tense moment. His voice dropped an octave as he leant in to whisper in my ear.

“Peregrine is a name for stray birds; let us address that first, shall we? You lack the ladylike status of a noble right now, Miss Lisenne, or should I say, Meredith.”

I covered my ear quickly in disgust, stepping away from him. Why is this commoner whispering in a noble lady’s ear? Has he no shame?

Carefully, he moved towards me and grabbed my hand and held it up to his mouth, his eyes peeking through my hand as he gracefully kissed it, befitting manners of a gentleman.

A snarky comment played on his lips: “If you must know the truth…my blood belongs to the sun. You may call me Aurelius.”

My breath hitched as the deep realisation settled in. He is a Solari. But how? I’ve never heard of an Aurelius. Could he be a hidden heir to the house? Impossible.

A memory suddenly flashed through my mind, dragging me back to a day surrounded by death. At the age of seven, I had attended the funeral for the son of Lance Solari. The boy’s father was a legendary figure, who had famously isolated the alchemical side effects of the curse.

It was a miraculous discovery; my father heavily praised him after the discovery, even whispering, 'I may be wed into the house of Solari one day.' I remembered the scene vividly: the grand, marble palace where the emperor stood bestowing medals upon the heads of each house, just days before the tragic passing of the little boy. The official record claims that he had succumbed to scarlet fever. It had been a tragedy felt across the whole empire. It was tragic even if I never met him.

Yet here he stood, flashing a dangerous, fanged smile in the candlelit alcove.

I forcefully yanked my hand back from his grip, my crimson eyes narrowing into slits. “The son of Lance Solari is buried under a marble mausoleum,” I hissed, my voice trembling with a mix of fury and shock. “Who are you really, and why are you using a dead boy’s house to mock me?”

Aurelius didn't flinch; if anything, his expression turned sombre, his eyes visibly darkening. “My father didn’t bury me." His words sounded playful moments ago, but they left a bitter aftertaste behind me.

A deep sigh followed. I could feel his breathing, hot against my ear, and his hands holding mine—shaking.

“Meredith, he hid me. Because the curse took hold of me when I was a child, I am infected.”

I stared up at him, his eyebrows furrowing as his face twisted into a pleading expression, making my heart drop the second I heard those soul-crushing words.

“Infected? What are you talking about? Y-You are speaking to me with perfect clarity. You are not…rampant.”

“Not yet", he corrected sharply, gesturing to his chest where the stolen files were hidden. “I’ve spent the last twelve years trying to figure out a cure for this goddamn curse, also using my house’s mind manipulation to physically suppress the corruption inside of my own brain. I am keeping myself conscious through pure alchemical force; it’s honestly a miracle I have even lasted this long. My father even said this.”

He looked sideways to the floor as he started to chuckle—his hands holding mine…squeezing them tightly as his sombre expression quickly turned into a worrisome smile, eyes filling with tears.

A wave of sympathy washes over me… never have I ever felt sorry for someone—I suppose even someone like me can feel sympathy for others.

“But I am running out of time." He looks at me, his eyes burning through mine—his erratic composure started to make me question if he was mad the next second.

He’s crazy…

“The descent happens next year, when the rampant angels return, the atmospheric curse will spike, and my mental suppression will shatter. I’ll lose my autonomy within days.”

He stepped closer, the intensity of his golden eyes practically searing into mine.

My back is pushing against the wall with hesitation; I am already too tall to try to fit through a door, let alone an alcove, let alone hide from what was coming.

“I stole your father’s medical records because he is the only half-rampant hybrid in the entire history of the empire to survive that transition without his mind completely collapsing. I don’t want to become a monster, Meredith. I need to know how he held onto his sanity because there is no time.”

Before I could even process the sheer gravity of his words, a sharp metallic echo rang out from the mahogany hallway. The distinct, synchronised click of heavy boots.

The asylum guards were moving.

Chapter 1

Darling

My maid, Adeline, brushes my hair with a gentle hand while the pianist plays a delicate song somewhere below, the melody rising to my chambers and caressing my ears gently as I stare at myself in the mirror, another image is reflected back to me. My platinum hair catches the light from the gleaming sun streaming through the iridescent arched windows, I tug lightly at one of the thick, spring-like ringlets framing my face, watching it snap back into its rigid, perfect shape. Crimson eyes, intimidating and framed with long silver eyelashes, glare back at me from the shiny reflection. My eyebrows are thin and arched, befitting my face, but they are also commanding, furrowed in impatience as I wait for Adeline to finish.  

“All done, my lady,” Adeline remarks.

I step away from my vanity and Adeline quickly rushes over to help me into my formal visiting gown. I step patiently into the center of the room as she buckles the canvas straps of my hooped crinoline around my waist, watching the metal cage expand into its dramatic, wide silhouette. Another torturous ten minutes pass as she tugs, smooths, and fastens the massive brocade skirt over the frame. By the time she finishes, I occupy nearly half the dressing room, a perfect porcelain doll built for a grim destination.

“I’ll set out at one. There’s no need to get the carriage—it doesn’t look like it’s going to rain, Adeline,” I say, glancing at her, waiting for her confirmation.

“Y-Yes of course, my lady. I’ll notify the footman right away,” she replies.

And so, I step out of the pristine, towering mansion, its name inscribed in harsh cursive; the Lisenne estate. My family is highly regarded, famous for slaying fallen angels, all because of that wretched goddess, Discordia. There is not a single person in this empire who has not heard of that so-called benevolent goddess. Her name inspires fear in anyone who dares to speak it. Legend has it that if you speak ill of her, you will be bound and doomed to her wrath. At least, that is what I have heard. But I do not need to rely on rumours or legends. The proof of Discordia’s malice is not written in dusty history books; It is currently locked away in a high-security cell at Everfall Sanatorium, wearing my father’s face.

Smoothing down the heavy ruffles of my brocade skirt, I turn toward the grand oak door of my chambers. It is time to go.

I walk—not hastily, but with a long, confident stride. Murmurs envelop me,

“Is that.. the infamous, Meredith Lisenne? Why is she walking with us commoners?”

Another speaks, “Shh! Quit it, unless you want her eyes to curse you, you fool!”

For a moment, I am about to turn around and give them a piece of my mind—but my eyes fix on my leather boots. Raindrops begin to fall, quickly turning into a hard downpour that lashes against parasol. Let them whisper. A Lisenne does not break her long, confident stride to bicker with the unwashed masses of the capital. I tighten my grip on the silver handle of my parasol, keeping my spine perfectly straight and my rigid drill curls bouncing in immaculate rhythm. Their fear is a natural reaction; it is the only respect they know how to give. With a cold click of my leather boots against the slick stone, I march past them, heading straight toward the wrought-iron gates where my carriage awaits.

For the next thirty minutes, I wonder whether my father will act the same way as he did during my last visit. The leather seat and the velvet interior accompany me the whole time, along with Adeline, who stares holes into my face.

We arrive. The looming, name engraved upon the iron archway, **EVERFALL SANATORIUM**. Well, it is not as though this is my first time seeing the famous sanatorium for fallen angels.

My heel lands on the first step of the carriage and the footman quickly offers me his hand.

Growing impatient, I demand, “I need to see my father. Out of the way.”

“Right, my lady—I apologise.” He says immediately.

“Tch,” I Tut, irritated.

I turn to Adeline, her gaze lingering on me in anticipation. She immediately understands what my impatient stare in return meant. I wished to be left alone without any further complications.

She nods and calmly walks back to the carriage with no further objections.

Then, I sweep past the footman without a second glance, the heavy velvet of my wide gown rustling against the cold stone pillars of the entryway. The air here always felt different—thick with the heavy, chilling residue of the Fallen Angel curse. I pushed open the enormous oak doors myself, stepping out of the furious downpour and into the echoing, candlelit lobby of the sanatorium. The grand room is dead silent. A lady stood behind the counter, overseeing the line.

I immediately began making my way toward to her, only to be greeted again by the infuriatingly cheerful director of the hospital. Just like last time.

“Miss Lisenne! My, my, it's nice to see you again, I suppose it has been three months since your last visit? This is the new head doctor of the Everfall Sanatorium. I want you to meet him.”

“Ah, yes, Cedric—how could I ever forget how much you’ve done for my father?  But I am, unfortunately, in a hurry. We can discuss this perhaps maybe another time?” I reply sarcastically, my disdain showing on my face no matter how hard I tried to hide it.

Cedric opens his mouth to introduce the stern-looking doctor beside him, but his words were cut short by the frantic chime of the lobby bell.

A tall, tanned man with drenched, dark-brown hair and translucent rectangular glasses approached the reception desk. Soaking wet and breathing heavily, he had a stack of stolen medical files hastily shoved under his jacket.

He froze when he spotted the head doctor. Realising he was completely cornered, his eyes darted from the doctor to Cedric, and then his jade eyes, framed by long, slightly curled lashes, locked onto me. The stranger lunged forward, grabbed my gloved hand, and looked straight at the stunned doctor.

“There you are, darling!” He gasped, his voice loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the room. “I’m so sorry I’m late for our appointment. This relationship counselling is our last hope, and I simply cannot bear to keep you waiting any longer, my love.”

Honestly, I could not believe the sheer audacity of this man, he had his hand wrapped around my shoulder as if we were a real couple. He was standing far too close, his wet-jacket pressing dangerously against the neat ruffles of my massive bell skirt, threatening to ruin hours of Adeline’s careful streaming.

I looked from his desperate jade eyes down to our joined hands. The nerve of him. Did he have any idea who I was? Any normal commoner would have been executed on the spot for referencing a Lisenne’s personal life so flippantly in public.

Cedric looked back and forth between us, sputtering like a broken steam engine, “L-Lady Meredith…you’re in a relationship? With him?”

The stranger’s grip tightened on my hand. A silent, pleading squeeze. I squeezed back, enough to make his knuckles pop beneath my glove—and looked Cedric dead in the eye. “Yes, Cedric. It is a deeply complicated affair. Now if you’ll excuse us, our session is about to begin.”

“Felix, the new head doctor will attend to you lovebirds then, off you go then!” Cedric gestured to Felix, his palm upwards, non-verbally asking for him to attend to us.

“Gladly, I’ll be attending to the infamous Miss Lisenne then today.” Felix smiled, though looking tense at the drenched man next to me.

I smiled awkwardly in response.

We all walk in synchronised clicks—down the mahogany hallway, with intimate wall candlelights surrounding us in every other step we take. The air, filled with various scents, such as rubbing alcohol—intertwined with pine and resin…oozing off of the fresh, green forest surrounding the sanatorium.

Felix, highly skeptical of our “relationship” proceeded to say, “Very well then, Miss Lisenne and…you are?” His eyebrow arched in confusion, the other downward, in a neutral position.

The air around us pauses suddenly, the anxious man looking at me with pleading desperation, as if he wasn’t the one that brought us both into this chaotic mess.

“This man… is my fiancé, you may call him Peregrine.”  I expressed, happily with a innocent, capricious smile.

My dearest “fiancé” looked at me with utter disappointment, well I guess even a commoner would know I am labelling him as a stray dog.

“Our marriage is on the verge of collapse! Please help us doctor. My Fiancé has been wandering around and he even looks at other women when I am talking to him! I guess I am just not enough…!”  

I sobbed whilst I expressed my concerns with a classic cliché from other stories I’ve heard from bothersome noble ladies raising their concerns to me.

“AHEM,”

Felix suddenly cleared his throat, though I don’t know whether this is in amusement or the wave of pity that appeared on his face for a few seconds whilst I was frantically sobbing.

Abruptly, a new voice interrupted. “Darling, please—you misjudge me!” Peregrine pleaded smoothly, though the undertone of his voice was vibrating with real, hidden panic.

He reached out, taking my lace-trimmed hand whilst casting a desperate, sweating look at Felix. “I wasn’t looking at other women! I was merely…comparing their utterly plain countenances to your radiant, incomparable beauty, my love!”

Felix’s young appearance drastically aged like milk, just from hearing the dog’s helplessness. His neutral expression caused him to rapidly frown, upon hearing this disdainful speech. His eyes darkened from the beautiful crystal blue they had before, at least they had some life in them before…now they have none.

Felix managed to gain his composure after about 10 seconds. We continued to walk solemnly down the hallway, his expression—brooding, forcing himself not to look at the both of us till we reached the chilly, candlelit room that smelled heavily of the institutional rubbing alcohol and old parchment I had noticed earlier. In the centre of the office sat a plush velvet love-seat—a piece of furniture clearly not engineered for Imperial nobility.

I glided past Felix and claimed the exact middle of the sofa. The moment I sat, the flexible steel hoops of my crinoline cage expanded with a loud, aggressive rustle of black velvet, instantly swallowing up nearly eighty percent of the space.

Peregrine had no choice but to awkwardly perch his tall, drenched frame on the absolute, freezing edge of the remaining silver of cushion. He had to angle his long legs sideways just to avoid burying his knees in my ruffles.

Doctor Felix stood up out of his office chair and murmured, “Excuse me for a second,” He then proceeded to the front of the room where there were stacks of paper, kept within different folders—each with names. Until he flicked through each tab.

The dog then turned to me, taking advantage of this moment, whilst Felix was distracted. “Out of everything you could’ve named me Miss Lisenne, I am a stray dog?!” He whispered, very visible on his face that he was offended.

“Quit it!” I responded to his disobedience, “Be grateful I didn’t name you after the actual dead dog our family used to have, commoner.” My voice dripping in Ice, in bewilderment that this man is still even talking to me.

“How would you even know I was a commoner—“ He shot right back before Felix whipped around to face the both of us.

“Your case…Miss Lisenne is very interesting, I have a folder in the Lisenne name written here, would you like to open a new folder just for you and your… fiancé? Instead of your father of course.” Felix looked up from his desk, with a quill ready to take notes—his expression tentative and focused.

“Of course, Peregrine wouldn’t mind—would you, my love?” I smiled earnestly at my “fiancé” indirectly mocking him.

“N-no of course not my darling! After all, that is what we’re here for.”  The dog cheesed awkwardly, looking at Doctor Felix in confirmation.

The commoner then turned to look towards me, the chandelier light; wistfully hitting his pure jade eyes—but I see a more distinct colour… a haunting bright golden, illuminating even more fervently, matching his beautiful, bronzed skin. His lashes downward, yet slightly lifted, looking upon at me.

I was taken aback slightly, central heterochromia isn’t common at all. Furthermore, Moles were scattered all over his face, as if he’d be kissed by Adonis, honestly, it makes me livid, why does he get to look so effortlessly ethereal? What a pain.

But looking past my incessant, internal grumbling… a cold realisation settled into my chest. The striking colour of gold wasn’t just a pretty sight to behold. But an ancestral signature of House Solari. Infamous, for their mind manipulation abilities—yes, House Lisenne is famous for ruthlessly taking countless lives on the bloodied battlefield of crying angels. However, though we bleed a crimson cry, the Solaris determination is as blazing and relentless like the burning sun. They’ve managed to subdue countless, rotten angels by torturous mind control…and their lack of empathy is equally as terrifying.

Even the emperor from many millenniums ago decreed a ban on the Solaris for using their… perhaps, ‘god-given’ abilities on innocent lives. Instead, their fearsome gifts were locked away for the state utility—reserved strictly for breaking minds of wartime enemies, extractions and brutal torture methods.

 I’ve never heard of hybrids existing within the Solaris; maybe they wanted to keep him hidden.

But why? Is this man toying with me for some ulterior motive?…Or is he actually a descendant of the Solaris?

Impossible. I should know anyway, I’ve met all the distinct households holding up this god-forsaken empire, how did he…slip through my grasp? Mocking me. Playing some pathetic, desperate fiancé…I could just laugh at this whole, painstaking ordeal.

“…Miss Lis—

…Lisenne?

…Miss Lisenne?”

I look up suddenly, realising Felix is waving a hand near my face, whilst the commoner looks at me, seemingly worried.

I am rarely embarrassed but, messing up in a supposed counselling session? That’s so unlike me; my father would be disappointed if he sees the sorrowful sight of me right now.

I chuckle, slightly embarrassed, “Forgive me, Doctor Felix—where were we?”

Doctor Felix lets out a dull sigh, leaning back instantly, at the same time. He taps his quill rhythmically against the thin paper, probably to gain his patience back. He ruffles his ash-blonde, side-swept wavy hair as he then looks at me, his hands on top of each other…with his eyes above his hands. His striking, midnight-blue eyes pierce through my skin, earnestly asking me non-verbally demanding my attention.

A serious, monotone voice follows, “Miss Lisenne, we are just on the topic regarding you and your beautiful…fiancé, your fiancé recalls how you two met in your estate, recalling how your father praised him on how you managed to find someone so special. Apparently this was 3 years ago?”

“Yes, why?” I confidently shot back.

He chuckles again, looking at me like I am missing something important.

“You know, Miss Lisenne…you’re praised for being the perfect heir to the house but I guess even yourself, can miss a simple detail.”

“Do tell me then…Doctor, what am I missing?”  My eyes narrow in curiosity whilst he swivels in his leather chair and proceeds to lean forward in my ear,

“Pray tell, wasn’t your father admitted into Everfall 5 years ago? He’s not even allowed out to go anywhere under our volition. Hmm?”

He whispers, low enough for only Peregrine and me to hear, looking completely cocky as his eyes avert to Peregrine,

My face blushes hot, filled with pure shame. I angrily look at Peregrine, but at the same time, how is he supposed to know that? I know my father but that just managed to slip my mind, and this cocky bastard managed to make me, the head of Lisenne, embarrassed. My honour is down in the drain; there is absolutely no way I am coming back from this.

A cold, deafening silence surrounds us, I look withered, like a corpse…purely because a mere commoner managed to ruin everything within the span of 10 seconds.

Peregrine abruptly cuts in, a smooth, easy smile instantly replacing his panic. “My mistake, I must have mean’t her mother! I just got mixed up because I was only focused on my darling fiancé.”

He then looks over at me with a cunning grin, ignoring the fact that I am currently fuming next to him.

Doctor Felix proceeds to laugh out loudly, completely shifting his dead serious tone from earlier, into a very haughty, unprofessional manner. Wiping his joyful tears away he chuckles whilst looking up at the ceiling. Sighing as he stops laughter dies down, his voice drops an octave,

“Do you even realise what you’ve said? As her so-called fiancé—hell, even as a commoner—it is basic knowledge that the late Lady Lisenne tragically passed away fifteen years ago. It was all over the newspapers! I don’t know if you’re insolent and you want your head cut off or maybe you’re just a rotten individual!”

I kick Peregrine, HARD.

He winces from pure pain. I look at him with disgust. My heart is violently hammering at this point, purely out of frustration with this stray dog.

I smile, putting my mask on—refusing to let Felix know I am utterly in distress.

“Doctor, he is an idiot who clearly lacks the basic functions of a human being, I think his brain is messed up from all the wine we consumed last night, Isn’t that right, darling?”

I kick him again, then lean in to whisper in his ear “You fool, I shall take everything from here—if you interrupt again I’ll have you investigated for those suspicious medical files you are hiding and as a gift…you’ll be executed by dawn tomorrow.”

The stray dog nods in confirmation, looking at me as his eyes lock onto Felix,“Y-Yes Doctor! My darling and I have been drinking; I suppose I just get too carried away! Haha…”