Royal Bastard’s Bloodstained Regression

It was already night as the carriage neared the palace gates.

For Vivian, the entire outing had been a failure. Daemon had barely spoken to her. He hadn't even seemed embarrassed after the accidental kiss. In fact, he spent most of the ride sleeping.

Was he really injured? she wondered. Was I wrong about Sir Luka? Maybe he really did attack him...

Now, watching him rest so easily—unguarded and silent—she realized something. He didn't see her. Not really. Not as anything more than background noise.

"Lady Vivian," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. "How is your father, Duke Sterling? I hope his health is well back in the territory."

The formality in his voice caught her off guard. He started a conversation? Now? Why so formal?

"H-he's fine," she stammered, cheeks coloring from the surprise.

"You don't have to be nervous around me," he said with a faint smile. "I don't bite."

"I'm not nervous," she lied, eyes meeting his. "It just... feels like you don't really get along with me. Do you... hate me?"

Daemon blinked. "Hate you? Why would I hate you?"

She didn't answer. Her lips parted, but the words stayed buried.

"That's what's been bothering you?" he said with a chuckle. "How funny."

He laughed—soft and careless—and crossed his legs. "You shouldn't worry. Soon, you'll be part of the family. A beautiful woman like you has no reason to doubt her place. I don't hate anyone important to my brother. You're his fiancée. That makes you my sister-in-law, right?"

He smiled again. Calm. Effortless. Warm.

A mask.

That was a lie—and she knew it. Deep down, Vivian could see it: the man sitting across from her wore a mask. She wanted to rip it off, to tear through that carefully crafted smile and see the real face beneath it.

Every word that left his lips slithered around her like a serpent—smooth, seductive, suffocating. It wrapped tighter with every sweet line, dulling her thoughts with false warmth until she forgot the danger. If she didn't wake up soon, he'd consume her whole.

She lowered her gaze. Her hands trembled slightly. She wanted to confront him—say what she saw earlier when he stood before Gabriel. That smile... That same chilling smile he wore the day the temple crowd demanded his death.

He hadn't changed. He'd only gotten better at hiding it.

"Miss Vivian?"

She blinked, startled. His voice pulled her back. She forced a laugh and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I understand... I'm glad you don't hate me. We should try getting along, after all—we'll be family soon."

"Yes," Daemon said with that same smile. "You're right."

The moment he smiled, she knew: she was letting herself be swallowed whole. And she hated it.

I won't be useless forever, she told herself. Not anymore. I'll find the truth. I'll tear the mask off myself if I have to.

And this time, she would not back down.

The carriage came to a slow stop outside the palace gates. Maids and manservants stood neatly in line, expecting Gabriel and the rest of the group. But as the carriage door opened, only Dameon and Vivian stepped out.

Lady Vexen stepped forward, smiling as she saw Dameon.

"Welcome back, Your Highness."

He gave a small nod. Vivian did the same, then turned to him.

"I'll inform the queen about everything. I hope you're doing well. I'll come visit you tomorrow."

Visit? Dameon thought. That was unnecessary.

"You don't have to," he replied flatly.

Vivian smiled, undeterred. "As your sister-in-law, I think I do."

Dameon gave a faint smile and nodded.

"Goodnight then," she said, and walked off with the servants trailing behind her.

"You all follow her," Dameon ordered. "I only need Vexen."

The servants exchanged looks and nodded. "As you wish, Your Highness."

Once they were gone, Vexen's smile faded slightly. She noticed the dark circles under Dameon's eyes.

"Your Highness, are you alright—?"

Dameon staggered slightly, but held his ground. Now comes the real problem, he thought. If Lilac's in my room, I can't let her see me like this.

Earlier, after absorbing Sir Luka's divine energy and life force, he hadn't stored it properly. It was raw, unstable—but Zaria's interrupted making his core unstable,moreover the second fragment wasn't fusing. Not without more divine energy. He needed to learn how to use it—master it—before gathering the next five fragments, each stronger than the last. If not, the demonic energy would consume him.

But right now, he needed to meditate.

"Vexen, take me to my room."

Her eyes widened. "Are you sure, sir?"

He nodded.

She stepped forward to support him. Her heart raced. Was he inviting her into his room... for that? She wasn't ready.

They climbed the stairs slowly, walked the quiet hallway, and finally reached his chamber door. She braced herself.

But the moment the door opened—

"Lord Dameon!" William's voice rang out.

The once-skinny boy, now scarred and sharper-eyed, stood up straight. His dagger glinted at his side.

"Kekeke! We're back, my lord," Varian grinned from the shadows.

Inside, Nyxtriel stood quietly, arms crossed, watching.

Dameon closed the door behind them and smiled.

"Welcome back."

Vexen stared in disbelief. Just moments ago, he was barely standing—and now he was composed, his strength fully returned.

"You... you tricked me!" she shouted.

Dameon didn't flinch. He moved past her toward the group.

"Didn't you notice?" he said calmly. "Someone was following us. Most likely Vivian she must have sent one of the maids."

Dameon leaned back, thoughtful. Vivian… He didn't understand her. If he recalled correctly, they'd barely spoken, never truly spent time together. And yet, she had that look in her eyes—quiet, but sharp. Maybe she wasn't as naïve as she acted. Did she see through the lie? If she kept poking around, he'd have no choice but to deal with her.

He shook the thought off.

"Forget about that for now," Dameon said, his voice firm. "Let's focus on what I asked you to bring."

"Right, right," Varian grinned. "We've got it. William here knows some shady people—scary as hell, honestly."

Dameon turned his gaze to William, eyeing him closely. "What happened to you? You've changed."

"I trained him," Nyxtriel said simply. "Dragged him through Velmira and back. Four days of hell."

And it showed. The boy who once flinched at everything now looked him in the eye with calm determination.

"You went that hard on him?" Dameon asked, raising a brow.

William stepped forward, then knelt on one knee. "My lord, I asked him to. I was weak. You've saved me more than once… I owe you my life. You gave me a second chance, a place to belong. That's why I want to train as an assassin—to be your shadow."

The room fell silent.

Even Nyxtriel's expression softened slightly. Varian blinked, then snorted.

"Wow. Did I hit him too hard?" he said, laughing.

Dameon, however, simply smiled.

For a twelve-year-old to say something like that… Dameon hadn't expected it. He had planned to train William as a sword, a weapon. But for him to ask to become his shadow—that was even better.

Dameon nodded. "Very well. I'll allow it. But first, you'll need an Astra core. Since you don't have one yet, I'll train you and inject demonic energy into your body."

Varian frowned. "Isn't that dangerous? I mean, demonic energy isn't exactly… safe. Forcing it into someone that young—"

"You don't need to worry," Nyxtriel said, smiling calmly. "My lord knows exactly what he's doing. After all, he's the Demon King."

Vexen, who had been silently watching, was growing increasingly uneasy. She didn't understand what they were talking about, and seeing Nyxtriel so close to Dameon irritated her more than she cared to admit.

Varian tilted his head. "Now that I think about it… what's Miss Nyxtriel doing here, anyway?"

"Important business, kid," Nyxtriel replied flatly.

"Ohh, I see. You two must've gotten real close while I was gone," Varian teased with a smirk.

"Shut up, idiot!" Nyxtriel snapped, cheeks tinged pink as she threw a pillow at his face.

"Ahem—" Vexen finally cut in, straightening her posture. "My lord, it's getting late. Shall I escort everyone out?"

"Sure," Dameon said, "but Nyxtriel stays."

"What?" Vexen blinked. "You can't just let her stay here—it's against palace rules."

"Oh, right—the sacred royal family rules," Dameon muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. "But here's the thing, Vexen. I'm not exactly their golden child. They hate me anyway."

He turned and gave her a cold stare. "So don't question it. Just escort Varian and William out."

Vexen flinched slightly but bowed her head. "As you wish, Your Highness."

Varian chuckled as he stretched. "Guess we're off then. Sleep tight, lovebirds."

William bowed respectfully. "Goodnight, my lord."

Once they were gone and the door closed behind them, Nyxtriel turned to Dameon. "My lord…"

"Where is our guest?" Dameon cut in.

Nyxtriel smirked and nodded toward the closet. "Tied up. Just like you asked."

Dameon walked over and opened the closet door.

Inside, Lilac sat with her arms and legs bound, her mouth gagged, eyes blazing with fury. The chains glimmered faintly with divine resistance—useless now.

"Hey there, Lilac," Dameon said with a smile. "Glad to see you again, my dear friend."