Chapter 38: An Hour Before The Ball.
"Kree."
Amethiel looks up at the monster, who looks down at him.
There was a pause between them, quiet but not empty.
Kree’s gaze lingered longer than usual, almost fixed, like it was taking him in more carefully than before.
"Today’s the day," Amethiel says, reaching for the high-quality black leash. It was smooth to the touch, well-crafted, and lined with amethyst gems that caught the light with every slight movement, glinting faintly in the dimness of the lab.
"Master..." Kree’s distorted voice whispered, the sound low and uneven, yet softer than it used to be.
It looked down at Amethiel, its glowing eyes locked onto him, almost as if it couldn’t look away.
"What?" Amethiel asks, tilting his head slightly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
He didn’t expect an answer.
He never did.
It was nice to act like Kree was communicative from time to time, though.
But to his surprise—
"Mag... ma... magni... magni..."
Kree struggled through the word, its voice catching, its pronunciation uneven, clearly reaching for something it wasn’t fully capable of yet.
Amethiel blinked.
Once.
Then his brows lifted just slightly.
"Are you trying to say I look magnificent?" Amethiel asks, his tone shifting, curiosity slipping through despite himself.
Kree subtly nodded.
But it did.
Another thing it had learned from Amethiel.
Amethiel’s eyes widened just a bit, the reaction small but real. "Oh, Kree," he says, his voice lowering, something almost amused slipping in. "How dare you show me something more fascinating when we’re about to leave?"
There was a brief pause after that.
Because it was good.
Unexpectedly good.
It was good that it could still surprise him.
’You’ve been paying more attention lately,’ Amethiel thought, something warm flickering for just a second before it settled back into something more...proper for the occasion.
He loved saying words like fascinating and magnificent.
Kree must have picked up on that.
Associated them with praise.
And now it was trying to use them.
’Smart,’ he thought, his grip tightening slightly around the leash.
Oh, it affected him more than he would admit.
But not now.
Not today.
He couldn’t indulge in that.
Not when the ball was waiting.
Amethiel tightened his hold on Kree’s leash. "Let’s go up, but before we do, I need to show you something," he says.
Kree tilts its head slightly, watching him. "Master–"
Amethiel pulls on the leash.
Harder than necessary.
Well, maybe it was a bit necessary.
Kree’s eyes widen immediately, its body reacting on instinct as it lets out a strained sound. "Argh... agh..."
The reaction was instant.
It was in pain.
Amethiel watched it carefully.
"You might not understand," Amethiel says calmly, lifting a small bottle in his other hand, "but the inside of your collar has sharp amethysts laced with Kree Repellant."
He gives the bottle a small shake, enough for Kree to see it clearly.
Recognition flickered.
That much, Kree understood.
"If you go far from me or act out, you will get hurt," Amethiel continues, his tone even, almost instructional. "As long as I don’t pull your leash, you won’t get hurt."
There was no hesitation in his voice.
No softness.
Just a fact.
That was all.
Amethiel turns around, already done with the explanation, gesturing slightly for Kree to follow him upstairs.
’Johnson and the other knights might already be upstairs,’ he thought as he began walking, the leash guiding Kree along behind him.
The movement was smooth.
Familiar to both of them.
They left the lab, ascending toward Amethiel’s room.
The air shifted slightly as they reached the upper level.
And as Amethiel expected—
There were already knights waiting.
Several of them.
Standing stiffly inside his room, their expressions far from composed. Their eyes flickered the moment they saw Kree, their bodies tensing almost instinctively.
In front of them stood Johnson.
And for once—
Johnson didn’t look annoyed.
He looked like he was dreading this.
Amethiel stepped fully into the room, Kree following behind him.
"So..." Amethiel starts, his tone light, almost casual, though there was something sharp beneath it as he glanced over the group. "These are the men that’re supposed to make sure the big bad monster doesn’t hurt anyone?"
Funny.
‧ . ‿̩͙⊱༻♕༺⊰‿̩͙ . ‧
"Why did I have to be the one assigned to you, little Grace?" Johnson says, his voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry past them as they walked out of the manor, heading toward the waiting carriage.
The air outside felt different.
Cooler. More open.
Servants and knights moved with purpose and cautiously around them, but there was still that underlying tension, the kind that came with important events.
Eyes flickered toward Kree more than once, quickly looking away the moment they realized they had been staring.
"Offense, not taken," Amethiel says sarcastically, not even bothering to look at him at first.
And truly, he wasn’t offended.
Not at all.
He knew Johnson.
And more importantly—
He knew Johnson was a wimp.
"We both know you’re not offended by anything we simple-minded people think about you or say," Johnson replies just as dryly, his tone matching Amethiel’s sarcasm perfectly.
That earned a small smile.
Barely there.
But it was real.
"It’s great that you’re aware of your place," Amethiel says, finally glancing at him. "You might be at the same intellect as Kree now that you’ve acknowledged that."
He looks back briefly at Kree as he says it.
Kree was walking behind them, tall and silent, its gaze shifting from side to side, taking everything in.
The outside world was clearly different from the confines of the lab and the manor halls, and yet, it didn’t react beyond that quiet observation.
It was still obediently observing, occasionally looking at Amethiel.
’Good,’ Amethiel thought, watching it for a second longer. ’Don’t embarrass me now.’
"Haha. Very funny," Johnson laughs, though there was no real humor in it.
Amethiel just gives him a side-eye, uninterested in dragging the exchange further.
Then he takes a slow breath, his focus shifting.
"Are my father and brothers ready?" he asks, his tone more neutral now.
"Lord Hyacinthe and Lilior are, but they’re still waiting for your father," Johnson answers. "You know how it is."
Ah.
Yeah.
Amethiel exhales quietly through his nose.
’Of course he is,’ he thought, not surprised in the slightest.
Out of the four of them, Amethiel always finished getting ready the earliest.
While Aster—
Aster took his time.
The longest.
Not because he was slow.
But because he cared too much about how everything looked.
’If father had his way, he’d redesign the entire ballroom before stepping into it,’ Amethiel thought, a faint hint of amusement returning.
Still, that meant waiting.
And waiting wasn’t something Amethiel particularly enjoyed.
His gaze drifted toward the carriage, then briefly toward Kree again, his fingers tightening slightly around the leash.
’...It’s finally happening,’ he thought, the realization settling in more clearly now.
The ball.
The unveiling.
Everything he had been working toward.
And for once—
He wasn’t bored by the idea of going to a ball.
Amethiel’s gaze drifted forward again.
And then—
He saw it.
His carriage.
It stood out immediately, even among the lined vehicles prepared for the household. Larger than the rest, longer, built with intention rather than convenience.
The frame was polished black, deep and rich, with violet accents woven into its design, subtle at first glance but impossible to miss when the light hit it just right.
Intricate patterns curved along its surface, almost like veins of decoration, detailed enough to demand attention but controlled enough to still feel refined.
And the horses—
Massive.
Black as well, their coats gleaming, their manes thick and slightly untamed, giving them a more intimidating presence than the usual noble carriage horses.
Even their hooves struck the ground with a heavier, more deliberate sound.
’Cherry Pie, you’ve outdone yourself.’ He had to make a mental note to give her twenty gold coins.
Amethiel slowed his steps.
Just slightly.
’...It’s even better than I expected,’ he thought, his eyes taking in every detail without trying to hide it.
It was excessive.
It was bold.
It was exactly what he wanted.
’This could rival the royal family’s carriages,’ the thought came, sharp and immediate, and it sent a small thrill through him.
That feeling—
That satisfaction—
It crept in quickly.
Amethiel’s grip on the leash tightened.
"Faster," he said without looking back.
Kree responded instantly, its long strides adjusting to match his pace as Amethiel picked up speed toward the carriage.
There was something different in his steps now, something more eager, more alive than before.
He could already picture it.
The arrival.
The attention.
The reactions.
His stepping out of this carriage—
With Kree behind him.
’...They won’t be able to ignore me,’ he thought, the excitement settling deeper.
For once, the idea of the ball didn’t feel dull.
It felt like a stage.
And he was ready to take it.
"Kree, stay close," he added, his voice quieter but firm, as they approached the carriage.
Just as he was about to step forward—
"Amie!"
Amethiel stopped.
His brows furrowed slightly as he turned his head.
Lilior.
Walking toward him with a quick pace, already dressed, already composed, though there was a faint hint of urgency in his expression.
Amethiel blinked once, mildly surprised.
"Lilior?" he said, tilting his head slightly. "What are you doing here?"
Lilior let out a small breath as he reached him. "I’ll be riding with you."
Amethiel raised a brow.
"With me?"
"Yes," Lilior nodded. "Hyacinthe and father are going to be a bit late."
’Of course they are,’ Amethiel thought, not even remotely shocked.
"What happened now?" he asked, though there was a hint of amusement already creeping into his tone.
Lilior sighed. "Father is having a slight wardrobe malfunction."
Amethiel paused.
Then—
He let out a quiet breath through his nose.
’A slight one, I’m sure,’ he thought, already knowing it was probably far from slight.
"Of course he is," Amethiel said, shaking his head faintly before glancing back at his carriage.
Then at Kree.
Then back at Lilior.
His lips curved just slightly.
"Fine," he said. "Try not to ruin the experience."
As long as they could leave now, he didn’t really care who rode with him.
"Let’s go?" Lilior says, offering Amethiel his hand.
Amethiel nods. "Yes."
