Caeloria Kingdom, Throne Room.

  Difo and the band of heroes stood solemnly before the princess, who listened intently, her countenance marked with deep concern as the tragic report unfolded. Lowering her head in silent thought, she paused, lost for a moment in contemplation, before a sudden realization lit her eyes. She spoke swiftly to the gathered heroes.

  "I am sorry to ask, but did any of you take the liquid?" she inquired, her gaze settling upon Difo.

  Difo met her eyes and answered with courteous restraint, "No, me and Damiel didn't think any of that in that time..."

  Yet before he could finish, Damiel stepped forward, a vial containing the ominous liquid floating before him, drifting with deliberate grace toward the center of the great hall. Damiel spoke in a voice calm and respectful, "I knew it was only one-time chance to get it, so I thought maybe I take it and keep it," he said, his gaze steady upon the princess, who now fixed her stare upon the dark liquid within the vial.

  Difo turned his eyes to Damiel and, as a true companion, asked, "Dam, when did you get the idea?"

  Damiel, meeting Difo’s question with ease, replied, "Well, Lek. Hear me out, but I knew someone would ask us to get this thing if we made it alive, so why don't just cut it short and take it with me in case if this thing is useful," his words accompanied by a smile and a look of quiet confidence.

  At this, Difo returned a smile of his own. "Well, I am glad that idea crossed your mind. That monster almost killed us all."

  After observing the vial closely, the princess turned once more to the heroes and spoke, "I have a friend of mine who can do some research on this newfound... discovery..."

  She cast a glance toward the mage standing nearby, who answered her unspoken command with a swift nod, lifting her staff and pointing it toward the vial. From within her robes, a cloth unfurled, drifting through the air to wrap securely around the vial. Damiel, seeing this, lowered his hand as the cloth-wrapped vial floated gently toward the princess’s mage, who caught it deftly.

  The princess looked at the vial and addressed them, "You guys can rest now. Sorry for this unexpected discovery that endangered you all," she said, her eyes filled with worry and her mouth drawn in an unhappy line, speaking as though her heart were burdened by the grievous report.

  Difo and the others could only nod, their faces unhappy, before turning and walking out of the throne room. The guards, standing ready, opened the great doors for them and then closed them behind.

  The General, who had been present throughout, glanced at the princess — only to find her staring at him with an unhappy expression. Shocked, he pointed to himself in disbelief. The princess gave a small nod, leaving the General rolling his eyes with a face full of disappointment.

  Inwardly, he grumbled, 'Great. She’s blaming it on me again. Such a painful nephew...' He sighed heavily, lowering his head in defeat while placing both hands on his waist.

  The mage, witnessing this humorous display between uncle and niece, quickly left the throne room once she finished observing their exchange. The guards opened the door once more, allowing her passage as she departed to carry out the task entrusted to her by the princess, even as the tension within the throne room continued to escalate.

  Meanwhile, as the heroes walked through the long hallways of the palace, a nearby window stood open. Difo's gaze shifted toward it, his eyes catching the sight outside — numerous torches flickering in the darkness, lining the road leading into the kingdom. A slow stream of people made their way toward the gates, seeking refuge within the safety of the city walls.

  The murmuring of the distant crowd echoed faintly through the night air, reaching even to the heroes' ears despite the distance.

  Difo sighed as he slowly walked toward the open window. Damiel, along with the others, followed close behind. Difo placed his hands upon the windowsill, remaining silent as he stared out at the gathering crowd of people seeking refuge.

  Damiel approached, placing a hand gently on Difo’s shoulder, and asked, "Kenapa, Lek?" his voice filled with curiosity.

  Still gazing into the dark expanse beyond, Difo replied, "Capek, Lek. Udah dua tahun kita di sini. Melihat kumpulan orang, entah dari kota mana, mencari perlindungan aja udah bikin aku rindu sama rumah, Lek," he said, explaining to Damiel his deep nostalgia and longing for home.

  Hearing this, Damiel smiled with his usual confidence and said, "Tenang, Lek. Setelah semua ini selesai, pulang kita. Kita bikin langsung wacana kita semua," patting Difo's shoulder firmly.

  Difo chuckled lightly and replied, "Iyalah, kalau kita bisa bertahan hidup," casting a glance at Damiel, who still smiled warmly and answered,

  "Eh, ragu kau, Lek?" He lifted one finger confidently. "Percaya sama Tuhan. Perjalanan kita pasti dimudahkan-Nya," he said proudly.

  Just then, Xahra, watching Damiel with curiosity, asked him, "Ta... tapi kau bilang kau ateis. Mananya benar, Damiel?" recalling his earlier claim with a look of confusion.

  In the past, when everything still remained within the walls of the school, the final bell had rung, and it was time for selected classmates to come forward and lead the prayer for each religion.

  Damiel, sitting near the wall and right next to Andreas, began to loudly call out, "Marvell," his face lit with laughter and a mischievous smile.

  Marvell, sitting peacefully nearby, turned around with a grin. "Tolonglah, ngak ada Marvell-Marvell itu. Kau kin kenapa, Dam?" he said, questioning his friend who was pointing at him teasingly.

  Damiel, still smiling in amusement, replied, "Eh, ingat, Lek. Ateis aku, Lek. Kau aja yang bawa doa," reminding them all with a playful tone.

  Suddenly, a voice from the front of the class called out, "Marvell!"

  Startled, Marvell gasped, "Hmp, kena aku," he muttered with a smile, before standing up and walking to the front, while Andreas and Damiel burst into laughter at the unexpected coincidence.

  Xahra, observing their antics with a soft smile, murmured, "Memang jahat kalian," under her breath, before turning her attention forward once more.

  Soon after, a friend of hers, who was Muslim, stepped up to lead the prayer. Xahra quickly followed in the prayer, bowing her head with quiet reverence.

  In the present, Damiel, recalling the memory, turned to Xahra, who was staring at him with a serious expression. With a smile, he said, "Well, the past is the past. You can't change what happened in the past, but you can change right now for your future," finishing proudly with, "Eak..." and a broad grin.

  Difo, smiling brightly and clearly entertained, said to Damiel, "Kata-kata hari ini, yah, Damiel..." teasing him a little.

  Damiel, standing proud, replied, "Iyalah, Lek. Terdengar keren di telinga dan bermakna untuk dipikirkan."

  Suddenly, Difo noticed something amiss and asked Xahra, "Uh... mana si Dwi dan Lita?" wondering about the whereabouts of two of their companions.

  Xahra, as if suddenly remembering, exclaimed, "Oh!" before answering, "Mereka langsung balik ke kamar untuk istirahat. Jujur aja sih, mengangkat barang yang berat menggunakan sihir melelahkan," she said, staring at Difo, who nodded in understanding.

  Moving away from the window with a grin, Difo told Xahra, "Nah, gitulah kerjaan laki-laki tiap harinya. Kalian beruntung masih pekerjaan ringan," laughing heartily, followed by Damiel who chuckled for a moment.

  Difo then turned to his friends and said, "Ayolah kita balik. Udah malam. Ekspedisi di dalam gua itu lebih melelahkan dan menyeramkan," as he stood upright.

  Damiel nodded quickly, adding, "Iyalah, Lek. Mudah-mudahan ngak mimpi buruk aku, Lek," placing his hands on his waist.

  Curious, Xahra asked, "Memangnya apa yang kalian hadapi di sana?" wanting to know more about their perilous adventure.

  Difo, already beginning to walk, replied, "Nantilah ku ceritakan di sana," followed closely by Damiel and Xahra, who hurried her steps and begged with enthusiasm, "Ceritakanlah, Dif, sambil jalan," as they made their way through the grand halls of the kingdom.

  As they walked, talking like close friends, Difo suddenly stopped in his tracks. Damiel and Xahra, confused, halted their own steps, glancing at him in surprise.

  Difo slowly turned his head, scanning the area as if searching for something unseen.

  "Kenapa, Lek?" Damiel asked, curiosity filling his voice as he watched his friend’s odd behavior.

  Still looking around cautiously, Difo replied with a serious expression, "Kalian ngak dengar kah? Tadi ada suara hompimpa tadi," speaking in a low voice.

  Xahra, upon hearing this, shivered slightly, her body reacting to the eerie suggestion, a chill running down her spine.

  Damiel, confused but cautious, looked around, trying to confirm Difo’s words.

  But all of a sudden, Difo placed a firm hand on Damiel’s shoulder and said, "Ayoklah kita ke kamar. Kurasa salah dengar aku barusan," sighing heavily, as if realizing he had spooked them for no reason.

  Xahra, stepping closer to Difo, gave him a gentle shove and said with a weak voice, "Bikin takut aja," expressing her lingering fear.

  Damiel, chuckling, joked, "Haduh, Lek. Memang butuh tidur kau rupanya," flashing a smile at his friend.

  Difo nodded in agreement, "Yah, memang butuh tidur aku," he said.

  With that, the three of them resumed their walk, making their way down the hall toward their rooms.

  As they continued walking, somewhere deeper within the castle, hidden in the darkness, a pair of eyes gazed upward in silence.

  A familiar voice sighed softly, then spoke in a low tone. "That was close," Marvell whispered to the person in front of him.

  A girl's voice echoed quietly in the gloom, "Agree," she said, her gaze lifting toward the ceiling for a moment before settling back on Marvell. She asked, "Shall we?" staring directly into his eyes. Marvell nodded in agreement.

  Together, Marvell and the unknown girl began to sing softly, their voices filled with a joyful and playful tone:

  "Hompimpa Alaium Gambreng..."

  Marvell glanced up, meeting the girl’s focused gaze.

  "Nek Ijo Pake Baju Gambreng..."

  They finished their chant, their eyes now staring downward into the shadowed corridor.

  Angel, who had been nearby, asked in a curious tone, "So who's the winner?"

  Suddenly, a flash of light burst forth, making Angel shield her eyes for a moment. When she looked again, the scene revealed itself:

  Marvell, flashing a rock hand sign with a mischievous grin, stood across from the mysterious girl — now clearly visible, wearing a cloak that barely concealed her vibrant red hair, dragon-like horns, and a tail swaying behind her. Her mouth glowed as fire continuously flickered from it, illuminating the darkness like a living torch. She held a scissor hand sign.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  The light also revealed three other unknown figures, each wearing adventurer badges. One, who covered his mouth like an assassin, asked, "So, what are we gonna do now?" looking toward Marvell.

  Stretching his arms lazily, Marvell replied, "Well, of course we need to inform the princess before taking any further action. Like, come on — if things start exploding in someone’s house, they’ll surely be mad at us if we act without warning."

  Still crouching, Marvell stood upright with a smirk. "Welp, time to search for trouble," he said, extending his hand toward the dragon girl.

  "Are you with me, Sorvyna?" he asked warmly.

  Sorvyna extinguished the flames from her mouth and smiled, grabbing Marvell's hand. "Hah, sure," she said, before relighting the fire and blushing slightly at him.

  Marvell smiled back, his own cheeks flushed as he gently pulled her forward.

  "Let's go then, beautiful princess," he said with a wink, turning on his heel and striding into the darkness, his footsteps echoing softly through the stone halls.

  Within the vast and echoing halls of the throne room, tension, already thick in the air, began to escalate violently.

  The sharp sounds of breaking and smashing objects rang out, clashing against the cold stone walls like thunder.

  Words, furious and biting, filled the space, echoes of blame and anger spiraling through the grand chamber.

  Outside the heavy doors, two guards patrolling the corridor halted in their steps. They exchanged wary glances, standing rigidly still, each silently imagining the chaos unfolding beyond the sealed entrance. There was nothing they could do but listen, wide-eyed and stiff with unease.

  "AGHHHH, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR EXCUSES! THIS IS DEFINITELY YOUR FAULT!"

  The Princess’s voice pierced the heavy air like a blade, shrill with rage. She clamped her fingers tightly over her ears as she spun away from her uncle, her body trembling with frustration, refusing even to look at him.

  The General, taken aback, shouted back in his own booming voice, filled with a mix of anger and despair, "IT'S ALREADY DONE! WHAT'S THE POINT OF BRINGING IT UP?"

  He glared at his niece, his fists clenched at his sides, but she would not be silenced.

  With fierce energy, the Princess whipped around, pulling one hand from her ear to jab an accusing finger toward him. Her face, usually composed and regal, was now twisted in deep, bitter disappointment.

  "MY UNCLE, WHO IS LITERALLY A GENERAL OF THE WHITE ARMY, DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TO ENSURE WE WOULDN'T REPEAT THE SAME MISTAKE!" she cried out, her voice cracking slightly under the weight of her fury.

  The General's face fell.

  The words struck him harder than any blade.

  Slowly, as if the strength left his body, he placed one hand atop his head, the other resting heavily on his waist. His shoulders slumped, his gaze dropping to the floor, unable to bear meeting her eyes.

  "Ugh... what kind of uncle am I," he muttered under his breath, voice hollow with self-reproach, "to the point even my own niece disrespects me..."

  For a moment, the only sounds in the vast throne room were the distant crackle of broken objects and the faint sighs of wounded pride.

  The Princess, breathing heavily, looked at the pained expression on her uncle’s face. Her anger, once burning so fiercely, softened.

  The deep bond between them — strained but not broken — flickered back to life inside her heart.

  She closed her eyes for a second, inhaling deeply to steady herself, before speaking in a calmer, gentler voice.

  "Sorry for yelling at you, Uncle..." she said quietly, placing one arm across her waist while her other hand dangled loosely by her side.

  Her head bowed, her voice heavy with regret.

  "It's just..." she paused, searching for the words that never seemed enough.

  "I wish my sister were here..."

  Her words fell into the silence like stones dropped into a well.

  The Princess stared down at the gleaming marble floor, her heart aching with sorrow.

  "I wonder... where did she go?" she whispered, the sadness and worry etching deep lines across her face, her voice trembling slightly with the weight of old, unanswered fears.

  Suddenly, the sound of a door creaking open echoed through the throne room, slicing through the heavy air.

  Both the Princess and her uncle turned their gazes sharply toward the entrance, startled from their tense standoff.

  Through the towering doors bounded Sorvyna, her face alight with joy.

  "Look who's back!" she called out cheerfully, practically leaping into the throne room with a bounce in her step, radiating happiness.

  Behind her, Marvell, Angel, and the rest of their group followed closely, their boots tapping softly against the marble floor.

  Marvell, his usual carefree grin on display, raised a hand in greeting.

  "It's been a long time," he said, his eyes locking onto the Princess’s bewildered face.

  The Princess blinked rapidly, her mouth parting in shock.

  "Marv?" she breathed, hardly believing her eyes.

  Sorvyna stood proudly before her, as if presenting the return of an old comrade.

  Marvell chuckled lightly, stepping forward until he stood directly in front of the throne, giving a casual shrug.

  "Yep, that’s me," he said with a light laugh.

  The Princess, still overwhelmed, pointed slowly and uncertainly at him, confusion clouding her royal composure.

  "I remember you...?" she said, her hand trembling slightly. "Your face... it was in the papers sent by the local news..."

  Angel stepped forward with a respectful bow, her long hair cascading over her shoulders as she bent low.

  "Yeah, you’re not mistaken," Angel said with a warm smile. "I am the hero sent by the king himself to defeat a demon lord."

  The Princess, still processing the shocking return of familiar faces, looked past Angel toward the others gathering behind her.

  Her voice was quicker now, tinged with urgency.

  "Then... where’s the rest?" she asked, her eyes scanning the group for missing members.

  Marvell gave a short, bittersweet chuckle, stepping to the side and casually motioning toward Angel.

  "It’s a long story, unfortunately," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "But hey, at least she’ll shorten it for you," he added jokingly, flashing a grin as he introduced Angel more formally.

  Angel, rising from her bow, nodded with solemn understanding and began to explain, her face turning serious as she addressed the Princess.

  While their conversation unfolded, the trio of adventurers lingering at the side exchanged glances.

  One of them, a man with two crossbows strapped securely across his back, noticed something — or rather, someone.

  He turned his sharp eyes toward his companion, an assassin whose gaze had grown wide, sparkling with admiration as he stared unabashedly at the Princess’s beauty.

  With a sigh of exasperation, the crossbowman — Dex — lifted his hand and tapped his distracted friend's shoulder firmly.

  "Focus," he said in a low, warning tone, his eyes narrowing seriously.

  The assassin — Ivan — snapped back to reality, his body straightening stiffly. He bowed quickly in apology.

  "Sorry, Dex," Ivan said, lifting his head again with an embarrassed expression.

  Dex couldn't help but let out a short laugh.

  With a playful smirk, he rapped his fist lightly against Ivan’s head, knocking it down with a soft thump that made Ivan wince.

  "Hahahah, it’s alright, Ivan," Dex said, his voice filled with amusement.

  He folded his arms across his chest, grinning proudly.

  "Consider that the payment for keeping my mouth shut about what I saw tonight," Dex added, nudging Ivan playfully.

  "Hope it’s a lesson you’ll remember."

  Ivan rubbed his head with a sheepish smile, wincing but nodding quickly.

  "Understood," he said.

  With that, both men turned their attention back toward the ongoing conversation unfolding at the center of the throne room, listening intently to the heroes' explanation.

  The Princess could only stand in silence as she listened to Angel’s explanation, her mind spinning with questions, doubts, and wonder.

  Was it truly as they claimed? Could such things have happened without her knowledge?

  As Angel finished speaking, her voice steady but laden with urgency, Marvell quietly reached into his robe.

  Without a word, he drew forth an object — one that made Sorvyna gasp audibly, her eyes wide with shock.

  The Princess herself recoiled slightly, her breath catching in her throat.

  The three adventurers behind them remained confused, exchanging uncertain glances, not understanding the significance.

  Dangling from Marvell’s hand was a heavy iron chain collar — old, rusted, and scarred by time.

  The very kind of collar once shackled around the wrists and necks of slaves... of heroes.

  Marvell's voice, low and filled with restrained fury, broke the silence.

  "You know what this is, right?" he said, his tone deadly calm.

  He lifted the collar slightly for her to see more clearly, his hand steady even as anger burned in his eyes.

  "This is the very collar they used," he continued, staring at the relic with a haunted gaze.

  "A collar that once chained my loved one... torturing her..."

  The room seemed to grow colder as his words echoed.

  Marvell’s tail twitched slightly behind him, his emotions betraying his composed face.

  The Princess stood frozen, the weight of the past slamming against her heart.

  She sighed heavily, closing her eyes for a moment as if gathering her thoughts, before straightening her back and standing tall, authority returning to her posture.

  Her eyes hardened as she turned toward Angel, her voice sharp and resolute.

  "Very well," she declared.

  "If this is true... then we — no — you must free them from their torment."

  Angel’s face lit up with hope and excitement, her mouth already parting to speak — but the Princess raised a hand, sharply signaling her to remain silent.

  Her expression twisted, anger flickering like a flame behind her eyes, as she shifted her gaze back to Marvell.

  "But here's a question," the Princess said coldly, her voice low and dangerous.

  "Why should I trust you, Marvell? You have some nerve coming back here..."

  There was something more — a wound from the past, still raw and bleeding beneath her words.

  Marvell, unfazed, gave a casual shrug and replied with a grin,

  "Oh please. I'm the most powerful sorcerer you ever hired."

  His voice was light, his expression relaxed — but there was steel behind his playful words.

  The Princess’s composure shattered.

  "YOU ROBBED ME!" she screamed, pointing a trembling finger directly at him.

  Her voice echoed against the stone walls like a whip crack.

  Marvell's eyes briefly changed — hollow and dark, turning into something almost skeletal — as he snapped back,

  "You tried to kill me!"

  He stepped forward boldly, as if challenging her outright.

  Angel, caught between them, looked back and forth with growing alarm.

  "What is happening?" she asked, her voice full of confusion, staring at the Princess and Marvell locked in mutual disdain.

  Marvell exhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again, his gaze returning to normal, the eerie hollowness vanishing.

  The Princess, however, muttered under her breath, her words laced with seething fury,

  "He's damn lucky he brought my sister into this room... or else my anger would have already exploded..."

  She glared at Marvell, who, for the moment, kept his attention carefully — and perhaps wisely — fixed on Angel.

  Marvell spoke calmly to his hero friend, explaining the tangled past without haste.

  "Well..." he began, a casual tilt to his voice, "long time ago, the King — her father," he said, pointing a hand toward the Princess with a wry smirk, "hired me to rescue Sorvyna. She had been captured and enslaved — by people who used the very same collars that were once chained to your hands."

  He rested his hand on his waist, his voice steady.

  "Of course, I accepted. I went out, destroyed their strongholds, killed their slavers, freed the others... brought devastation upon their evil," he said, his eyes distant, remembering.

  "As for how she got captured in the first place?" he added, giving a slight shrug. "That remains a mystery. I have no idea."

  Before he could continue, Sorvyna gently interrupted.

  Marvell immediately fell silent, turning his eyes toward her respectfully, along with Angel and the rest who now watched closely.

  Sorvyna spoke politely, her voice calm but filled with old memories.

  "Well... what happened was," she said softly, "I was wandering in my dragon form with my sister.

  I was shot mid-flight and fell.

  The guards who watched over us managed to save my sister, but they didn't have enough time to rescue me."

  Her words floated in the heavy air, every syllable carrying weight.

  Marvell nodded to her, his expression warm.

  "Thank you, Sorvyna, for telling us what happened.

  Sorry you had to recall those memories," he said, apologizing sincerely before shifting his attention back to Angel, who listened with rapt focus.

  "Now," Marvell continued, regaining his steady voice, "back to me.

  I managed to save her... and returned her home safely."

  Before he could continue, the Princess interrupted sharply, anger seeping into her voice.

  "Yeah," she said bitterly, "after that, he started dating her — which, at first, was acceptable, since my sister loved him."

  Angel, caught off guard, gasped slightly and asked with wide eyes,

  "You dated a dragon?

  And the dragon is the Princess's sister?"

  Her voice brimmed with curiosity, her head tilting slightly in disbelief.

  Marvell chuckled lightly, taking the question without offense.

  "Yep. I did," he said casually.

  "As for the sister part... let's just say it's a long history.

  Way back before this kingdom was even built," he explained, his voice calm as if telling a story long past.

  Angel pondered for a moment, her eyes dropping to the floor, then lifting again as a new question bloomed in her mind.

  Looking directly at the Princess, she asked,

  "If it was acceptable... then why do you hate him?"

  She tilted her head to the side, confusion plain on her face.

  The Princess, struggling to contain the fury boiling inside her, answered in a strained but steady tone.

  "Well," she began, voice trembling with fury, "one night she came into my room... and then he silenced me with his ice magic, grabbed my crown, and jumped out the window, leaving me tied to the—"

  She shouted the last word,

  "Bed!"

  Marvell, unfazed, locked his gaze with hers and retorted coolly,

  "As if you weren’t doing something worse — sending an assassin to my room because I dated her!"

  The temperature in the room seemed to spike as the argument heated.

  The Princess, eyes narrowed sharply, snapped back,

  "An assassin...?

  I never sent an assassin to kill you!"

  Their gazes locked, neither willing to yield.

  Marvell, a mocking smile creeping across his lips, said,

  "Oh really?

  Should I spend an entire day hunting down that assassin and the proof of what you did?"

  His voice dripped with challenge.

  The Princess, now with no patience left in her heart, roared back,

  "Do it, you disgusting, thieving, lazy sorcerer!"

  Her voice cracked like a whip, filled with unfiltered rage.

  Marvell’s stare grew colder, sharper, but before either could launch another verbal strike, Sorvyna stepped between them firmly.

  She raised her hands slightly, smiling — but the force behind it was unmistakable.

  "Let’s just forget what happened in the past," she said, "and focus on what lies ahead, okay?"

  Both the Princess and Marvell — still locked in furious glares — sighed heavily and, almost at the same time, muttered,

  "Fine."

  They turned their heads away from each other stubbornly, refusing even to meet eyes.

  Sorvyna could only sigh, shaking her head with deep disappointment.

  "Geez..." she muttered under her breath.

  The Princess then crossed her arms and, with a grin full of wicked satisfaction, said,

  "I grant you permission to destroy my castle if it comes to that."

  She turned her cold gaze to Marvell and added,

  "In return—"

  Her voice dripped with malice.

  "—Marvell alone will fix and pay for any damages that happen here."

  Marvell’s face fell immediately, his whole body stiffening in shock.

  Angel, standing beside him, struggled to contain her laughter, hiding her mouth with her hand.

  Marvell sighed deeply, staring at the floor in defeat.

  "Fine," he muttered, scratching the back of his head in growing discomfort.

  He whispered under his breath,

  "Hopefully this won’t empty my pockets..."

  The Princess grinned wickedly, her victorious smile stretching wide across her face, clearly enjoying the agreement.

  Marvell, swallowing his frustration, straightened and spoke dryly.

  "Well, the deal’s made.

  Now, can I do what I want to do here?"

  The Princess, arms still crossed over her chest, leaned back with a mockingly sweet smile.

  "Sure," she said brightly, practically glowing with fake innocence.

  Marvell’s jaw tightened slightly, his eyes staring intensely at her — burning with unspoken annoyance — yet he said nothing, holding it all inside.