The warm steam from the shower still clung to his skin, rolling off his bare shoulders as Kaiser leaned over the bathroom sink, both hands gripping the porcelain edges while he stared at himself in the fogged-up mirror. Droplets of water traced slow paths down his chiseled chest, sliding over his completely clear skin.

  He exhaled, sharp and measured, running a hand through his damp black hair, pushing the strands back as he studied his reflection. His eyes were burning, sharp, predatory. He had washed away the blood, but the weight of the night still clung to him, heavier than any stain.

  Pulling himself away from the mirror, he stepped into the main room, finally allowing himself a moment to take in the sheer size of it. It was massive, much larger than anything he ever needed, and yet, despite its elegance, it felt empty. Sterile. Neither he nor Aria had left much of anything behind. No personal touches, no scattered belongings, nothing to make it truly feel lived in. It was just a place to sleep between fights.

  But something caught his eye.

  On the farthest bed, the one Aria had claimed, sat a small pouch, neatly placed as if left there on purpose.

  Kaiser narrowed his eyes, walking over and picking it up. The moment he untied the string and pulled it open, he felt his breath hitch just slightly.

  Inside, folded with precision, was the same color-changing silk Aria had been so fascinated with earlier. It glittered under the low lighting, shifting between hues of deep blue, soft violet, and the occasional glint of gold, as if mirroring the sky in constant motion. Resting on top of the fabric was a small, handwritten note in delicate cursive.

  "For Kaiser’s handkerchief."

  A rare, genuine smile crept onto his lips, slow and involuntary.

  ‘That damn kid.’

  Despite everything that had happened, she still thought about something as trivial as this. His fingers traced the smooth silk before he folded it carefully and slid it into his pocket, patting it once to make sure it was secure. A sigh left him, one that felt deeper than it should have, and for just a moment, the weight on his shoulders didn’t feel as suffocating.

  But the night wasn’t over.

  Turning toward the bed, he eyed the fresh set of clothes Erya had left for him. He hadn’t even glanced at them before getting into the shower, but now that he looked… damn, she really outdid herself.

  A fitted, high-collared black undershirt clung comfortably to his frame, emphasizing the muscle underneath without restricting his movement. Over that, a deep crimson waistcoat, intricately embroidered with thin gold lining tracing patterns of flames along the edges, adding just a touch of elegance without being gaudy. The long black coat that went over it was heavier than expected, falling just past his knees, reinforced with an inside lining of reinforced fabric—light armor disguised as high-class fashion. The sleeves bore subtle leather plating near the wrists, blending seamlessly with the design.

  The pants were a snug but flexible dark gray, tailored for both movement and style, tucked into knee-high combat boots polished to a sharp gleam. A dark belt secured at his waist, adorned with a single, minimalistic silver buckle. And the finishing touch, black gloves, fingerless, with a reinforced grip on the palms, perfect for both combat and theatrics.

  Kaiser adjusted the cuffs of his coat, rolling his shoulders once before glancing back at the mirror.

  ‘Yeah. This would do.’

  Sliding his hands into his pockets, he stepped toward the door, exhaling as he pushed it open. The moment he did, a familiar voice greeted him.

  "Well, damn."

  Erya's voice, smooth as silk but laced with amusement, cut through the air. She was leaning casually against the wooden doorframe just a few steps away, arms crossed, hip cocked, watching him like a cat watching a particularly interesting mouse. A slow, knowing smirk pulled at her lips.

  "Took you long enough. I was about to send a search party. Did you fall asleep in there?"

  Kaiser huffed, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "I had a lot to wash off."

  Erya let out a short laugh, pushing off the wall and falling into step beside him as they moved down the hall. "You better not have used up all the hot water, pretty boy. That'd be a crime punishable by death."

  "Pretty boy?" He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at her with mock offense. "You catcall all your guests, or am I just special?"

  She grinned, unapologetic. "Oh, you're definitely special. And don’t dodge the question, did you or did you not take up the entire damn hour?"

  "Technically, no." He smirked. "I still had about three minutes to spare."

  "Unbelievable." She rolled her eyes before squinting at his still-damp hair, or rather, hair that should have been damp, but wasn’t. Her smirk widened. "Ah, so you used the crystal?"

  "Yeah," he admitted, reaching up to ruffle his perfectly dry hair. "Didn’t think much of it when you handed it to me, but I’ll admit, it worked like a damn charm."

  "Mmhmm." She tapped her chin. "You saying I give good gifts?"

  "I’m saying you’re not completely useless," he teased.

  "Oh, screw you." She nudged him, but the humor in her voice remained. They stepped down the staircase together, the inn’s warm glow washing over them as the muffled quiet sounds of the city hummed beyond the doors. Kaiser moved with a calm, steady purpose, his shoulders loose, his expression unreadable, yet… there was something about him that felt different.

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  Erya noticed it immediately.

  He wasn’t radiating that storm of quiet, simmering anger like before. The sharpness in his eyes wasn’t fueled by barely contained rage, wasn’t driven by the weight of bloodshed. No, there was something else there now… Something lighter.

  She tilted her head, watching him with interest. "Alright, spill it."

  Kaiser glanced at her. "Spill what?"

  "You. You’re in a good mood. And don’t you dare lie to me, I can see it." She narrowed her eyes, studying him as they neared the doors. "Last time I saw you, you looked like you were two seconds from setting the whole damn city on fire. Now, suddenly, you’re all cool and composed. What changed?"

  For a moment, Kaiser didn’t answer. He let the question sit in the air, rolling it over in his mind, searching for the right words.

  His thoughts drifted:

  —To Aria’s laughter echoing in his ears.

  —To the small pouch on her bed, the shifting colors of silk carefully folded within.

  —To the simple note.

  His hand brushed against his pocket, where the silk now rested.

  Finally, he exhaled, slow and measured, his smirk faint but real. "Anger’s like a blade… You hold it too tight, and it cuts you instead." He rolled his shoulders. "I just let go of the grip a little."

  Erya blinked, caught off guard for half a second before a grin crept onto her face. "Look at you, getting all poetic. That’s new."

  "Don’t get used to it."

  "Oh, trust me, I won’t." She chuckled before nodding towards the doors. "Alright, let’s get this show on the—"

  She didn’t finish. Because the moment they reached the entrance, a small figure suddenly stepped in front of them, forcing them both to halt.

  A boy, the same boy he had dragged out of that basement, beaten and barely conscious, was now standing before him, his small frame still wrapped in bandages. He looked exhausted, like moving alone was a battle, but despite that, his legs held firm, his eyes, though tired, were sharp with something desperate.

  "What the hell are you doing out of bed?" Erya scolded immediately, hands on her hips. "You’re supposed to be resting, dumbass."

  Kaiser simply walked past the boy without another glance, muttering over his shoulder, "Get some sleep, kid. You’ve been through enough."

  But the boy didn’t move. "Wait!" His voice cracked slightly, but he held his ground, taking a step forward. "I need to go with you!"

  Kaiser sighed, still walking. "Not happening."

  "You don’t understand—!"

  "No, it seems you don’t understand," Kaiser snapped, finally turning back. "You’re half-dead, stitched together with whatever magic she could scrape up." He gestured toward Erya, who stood behind him with her arms crossed, watching with an unimpressed look. " And you think you’re in any condition to fight? You’d be more of a liability than anything."

  Erya, already over it, waved the boy away. "Exactly. Now, hop back into bed, champ, or do I gotta drag you there myself? We’ve got exactly—" she dramatically glanced at an invisible watch on her wrist, "Not enough time for this conversation. Not when His Royal Highness over here decided to take his sweet time with his little princess treatment."

  "It looks good, doesn’t it?" Kaiser smirked, ruffling his now-dry hair.

  "Yeah, yeah, you’re gorgeous, we get it." She waved a hand. "But we’re in a rush, and I’d rather not spend the next few hours babysitting."

  "I don’t care!" The boy’s voice cut through their banter like a blade. "I don’t care if you think I’m weak, or useless, or whatever else! I have to go!"

  Kaiser narrowed his eyes. He was about to shut it down again, but something about the kid’s tone made him pause. This wasn’t just stubbornness, nor was it desperation.

  So, instead of turning away, instead of dismissing him outright, Kaiser exhaled, stepping forward, looking him in the eye. "Why?"

  The boy blinked. "What?"

  "Why do you want to come with us so badly?" Kaiser’s voice wasn’t harsh this time. It wasn’t dismissive. It was quieter, steadier. He tilted his head slightly. "You didn’t say a word about what happened to you. You didn’t ask for revenge. You didn’t mention the people who hurt you, in fact in the short period of time we were alone, you were obviously deep in thought. So tell me…" His gaze sharpened. "What are you really after?"

  The boy’s fists clenched at his sides. "Two days ago…" His voice wavered, but he forced himself to continue. "Two days ago, me and my sister were sold."

  Erya’s playful smirk faded.

  Kaiser’s brow furrowed slightly, his focus now fully on the kid.

  "Sold?"

  The boy nodded, his nails digging into his palms. "By our parents." Kaiser didn’t react, but something in his posture shifted.

  "They handed us over to the Right Fist, saying it was just ‘temporary.’ They said they just needed the money. They said they were going to use it to gamble, win big, and then buy us back at the auction house in two days." He laughed dryly, shaking his head. "Like we were just… things. Like we were property that could be bought, sold, and returned whenever it was convenient."

  Erya muttered a curse under her breath.

  Kaiser remained still, unreadable. "And?"

  "And…" The boy took a sharp breath. "They split us up. My sister was sent to the main auction house. But me?" His hands trembled. "I was sent to a brothel."

  Neither Kaiser nor Erya spoke.

  "I don’t even think my parents knew. They probably thought we’d be kept together, in some holding cell or whatever, waiting for them to win their damn money back." His voice turned bitter, raw with something old and aching. "But instead, I got locked in some disgusting, rotting room with chains on my wrists and men outside my door who wouldn’t stop talking about what I was worth."

  Kaiser clenched his jaw.

  "And then…" The boy swallowed hard. "Then I was dragged to that basement. The one you found me in. They said I wasn’t good enough for the high-end places, that I was too much trouble. So they decided to throw me in with the others, just another piece of inventory, just another body to be sold to some bastard with enough gold to waste."

  A long silence stretched between them. The street outside the inn was eerily quiet. Even the wind seemed to have stilled. "And your sister?" Kaiser finally asked.

  "She’s still at the auction house." The boy’s eyes, tired and burning, locked onto Kaiser’s. "And I’m not going to sit here, resting in some warm bed, while she’s trapped there. While she’s waiting to be sold to some noble, or worse."

  "You’re injured," Kaiser pointed out. "You’re a kid."

  "Then I’ll die fighting for her."

  Kaiser’s fingers twitched at his sides. ‘There it was, that look. That sheer, unbreakable determination that had no right to exist in someone so young. It was like looking in a mirror.'

  He remembered standing in a place just like this, years ago, fists clenched just as tight, invisible scars still fresh, telling someone, anyone, that he didn’t care how impossible it was. That he was going to do something, even if it killed him. He recognized it immediately, because it had once been him. Kaiser exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Damn it."

  Erya looked between them, arms still crossed. "Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re actually considering this?"

  "No." Kaiser shot her a look. "I’m considering not leaving him here, because if we do, he’s just going to sneak out and get himself killed."

  "I don’t need protection." The boy straightened his back. "I need to fight." Kaiser studied him for a long moment. Then, finally, he clicked his tongue, tilting his head slightly. "What’s your name?"

  "Ivan."

  Kaiser nodded slowly. "Alright, Ivan. Here’s the deal. You’re coming with us. But you follow every single order I give you, you don’t run off, and if I tell you to hide, you hide. You break any of those rules, and I will personally drag your ass back here and lock you in that damn room myself." His gaze was sharp, serious. "Are we clear?"

  Ivan didn’t hesitate. "Crystal."

  Erya groaned loudly. "Oh, great. Now we have a pet to take care of."

  Kaiser ignored her, turning toward the door once more. "Then let’s move. We’ve wasted enough time."