The Tyrant's Pet

[ PRESENT TIME ]

That was Isaiah\'s last and most memorable memory of Aries. Although Isaiah trained her with her swordsmanship and even willingly became her mentor in witchcraft, that conversation in the Rose Palace garden left a deep impression in his mind.

And at a time like this, he couldn\'t help but have a quick trip down memory lane.

"Your Majesty." Isaiah caressed the smooth edge of the coffin that was placed steps before the altar. Currently, Isaiah moved Abel\'s body to the chapel within the imperial palace, just as Sunny requested.

"It has been two years since you entered this long slumber with everyone. May this slumber end so you can stop her madness. She will end herself if this continues."

Despite what had happened two years ago, worry still filled his eyes.

It was just as Aries predicted. A day that her darkness would devour her and drive her into madness would come, and it did come.

For Isaiah, though, Aries might\'ve chosen the path she had taken and turned her back on everyone, but there was this little part in Isaiah\'s heart that whatever Aries had done, she had reasons. It was just that with every passing day that would go by and with each news that Sunny would deliver to him, that small faith in her consistently shrunk.

If this continued, he was afraid the little trust he had in her would deplete. And that, somehow, worried him. That Isaiah wouldn\'t live to the day when he would understand Aries\'s actions, and what came along during her awakening that changed her plans with a snap of a finger.

\'She hasn\'t returned yet.\' Isaiah turned his head to the stained glass of the chapel. \'Good thing I didn\'t wait for her to get me a pair of funeral clothes.\'

For the past two years, Isaiah only had Sunny to talk to. Not that he was a talker, but Sunny was a strange girl with a beguiling nature. Somehow, despite being an adult, Isaiah felt that he never influenced the girl, but the other way around.

For instance, while waiting for the mischievous Sunny to come back from wherever she went, Isaiah set up Abel\'s funeral in the chapel. But even until now, she hadn\'t returned. Sunny had always been like that, though. She probably used that excuse to go out of the imperial palace to play outside. Not that she wasn\'t allowed to go out, but somehow, she always make up excuses. The reason he deemed her strange.

"I just hope she gets back safely," whispered Isaiah, keeping his eyes on Abel for a moment, before slowly raising his gaze to the giant cross behind the altar. "What an irony."

Silence slowly reigned in the chapel as Isaiah stood motionless in the same spot. When another minute had passed in silence, his eyes slowly grew sharper. Isaiah slowly turned on his heel, and at the same time, the entrance creaked slowly and loudly.

The light outside stretched inside the chapel as a petite figure stood in the middle. Her shadow also stretched up to the middle of the aisle. Isaiah narrowed his eyes to see her face clearly.

There, by the entrance, was a petite woman with long blanched hair that was tied in a loose ponytail. She had this very long hair that if she let it down, the tip of her hair would sweep the floor. Her complexion was just as white as her hair as if all the blood in her body was gone. Her dress was plain and dull, though it was neat.

Isaiah studied her from head to toe, sizing her up to estimate if she was strong or weak. But alas, he sensed nothing. If there\'s anything, all he detected was this faint resemblance to her aura with Abel. However, her aura wasn\'t as naturally despotic as Abel, nor it was just as revolting as that of Marsella\'s.

\'But she\'s surely a Grimsbanne,\' he thought. \'That naturally white hair, deep crimson eyes, as if they could see right through one\'s soul. I wonder what sort of Grimsbanne she is?\'

Clang… clang…

The moment the woman advanced in Isaiah\'s direction, the bell that was tied around her hair chimed softly. The ringing echoed at her every step while Isaiah kept his eyes on her. He held his breath the closer she got, raising all his guards lest she does something to harm Abel.

But nothing happened.

The woman stopped three steps from Isaiah, gazing at him wordlessly. Her lips parted, but no words came out as she shut her mouth again.

"You are…?" Isaiah broke the silence between them when another minute passed and she just stared at him.

"Weddings are only fun when you\'re watching it." Her voice was small and soft, but her reply was quite random. She glanced at the coffin behind Isaiah for a moment but said nothing, even after having a glimpse of the person lying inside.

Instead, she set her eyes back on Isaiah and blinked.  The woman then turned on her heel and walked towards the first pew, leaving him more confused. She sat down on it like a statue, saying nothing, not moving a muscle.

"..."

Isaiah kept his eyes on the woman sitting on the pew, but her eyes were staring just ahead. He couldn\'t read what she was thinking, or if she was even using her mind at the moment. For minutes, he waited for anything from her, even the slightest movement, but alas, the only movement she did for the past couple of minutes was blink.

"You are… Mathilda Grimsbanne?" Again, Isaiah\'s voice pierced the air when he couldn\'t take the prolonged silence anymore. Much to his dismay, her reply was something else.

"I\'m sleeping," said the woman with the same small voice, staring at the wall ahead.

"You have your eyes open."

"I sleep with my eyes open."

"But you\'re talking to me."

The woman opened her mouth and glanced at him. She didn\'t reply anymore, as if she only realized he had seen through her obvious bluff.

"..."

\'Uh.\' Isaiah let out a short breath. \'She\'s definitely his sister.\' — common sense wouldn\'t work on her.