Page 31 of A Requiem of Fire and Ice

After they speak about King Ragan, they talk about the mutt and their similarities. Some even worry he might stake a claim to the throne, but I doubt it. If my parents had already decided that Typha would marry Walkyer for the crown, why would they bother trying to set up a marriage for me with the mutt?

But I can’t voice the issues, as doing so would raise heavy suspicion.

Unbeknownst to anyone lurking outside Xavier’s room, my face flushes as I glance at Sara as we exit. She presses her lips together, stifling her giggles. Kylie wears a smug look and nudges her head our way. It seems Xavier was rather loud while having sex with me, and I did not know, since I was too wrapped up in my thoughts.

“Oh my God, Xavier!” Kylie bursts into laughter as we stroll down the street. “You were so loud!”

“So loud,” Sara mimics her girlfriend. “And Mrs Clark was making us tea while we could hear you!”

“Fuck,” Xavier groans. “It’s Panda’s fault. The way she moves her hips and⁠—”

I grip his arm and say, “Stop, Xav! It’s too private.”

Sara and Kylie giggle like schoolgirls when my face flushes, burning bright red. It could be the sticky heat. Night doesn’t bring any relief.

When I have sex with Xavier, I don’t remember it. I’m absent during those moments. However, I feel the aftermath. Disgust grips my stomach, leading to nauseating cramps. That’s all there is to it. Any movements, false moans, or sweet nothings come from elsewhere, while I usually sit with Desmond and build snowmen.

Except for tonight. Memories haunted me, and the tingling sensation at my waist persisted. In this heat, it’s even more unbearable. The sunscreen lotion will dry up, and then I’ll have to wait until Xavier’s asleep or when they take him away to tend to my wounds again.

“Where are we going first?” Kylie asks.

“The castle!” Sara claps her hands together. “When else are we going to see it?!”

Xavier shrugs. “Sure. Afterwards, I can show you the Crimson Hotel. Many elemny sell the autobiography books of Prince Emmerton and Walkyer.”

“What about the other brother?” Kylie says.

“Prince Reen?”

Kylie claps her hands together. “Right. That’s his name.”

“It’s because he’s a mutt,” Xavier says. “Why would they give it to him?”

Mutt or not, he has royalty in his blood. No matter what anyone says, he is Queen Ji-Sun’s son, which means he should have some claim. Even a fucking book. But is it an argument I want to die on? No, instead, I keep my mouth shut, like a good, cute, meek girlfriend does.

We reach the taxi bay after five minutes of walking, and once we’re inside, Xavier explains he’s awakening tomorrow. It’s common knowledge that an elemny’s awakening can lead to a day of free stuff. Most elemny celebrate right after they awaken: partying, drinking, and having a good time.

Xavier believes we will not leave his bedroom. It explains why he was pushy in wanting to come out with us. The expectations this guy has of fucking a corpse have no bounds.

I share the backseat with Sara and Kylie, while Xavier sits up front. As soon as the car moves, he closes his eyes and grunts every time we hit a bump. Meanwhile, Sara bounces in her seat. I’m glad someone is happy to see this pathetic kingdom. The world here is in ruins. Even the colourful neon lights can’t compensate for the drab, washed-out, bleak black, white and grey kingdom known as Flesh.

Ash clings to everything. The active volcano in the kingdom continues to unleash relentless, suffocating heat. And despite knowing it’s hot, it’s not from the sun. There’s no sun. A layer of smoke covers the sky, washing out the brilliant blue. Bodies lie on the ground like flourishing bushes in Oceanview Harbour.

I crack a smile. It’s hypocritical of me to complain about bones, dead bodies, and crimson staining the ground when my mother buried a body in our backyard every week. Being the only one unfazed, I had to help her. Typha dry-heaved whenever she encountered death, but it didn’t stop her from…

Deep Breaths.

We slow down at the Crimson Hotel. Women wear flashy, bright dresses, the highest heels imaginable, heavy, beautifully applied makeup, and hair styled in extravagant designs. Men wear suits, dressed to impress, and some link arms as they enter with flushed, lustful looks and heated gazes.

An arm snaps in front of my focus, and Sara squeals, “That’s Prince Walkyer!”

Sara’s words travel fast through the open window. He rises from signing books amid the chaotic crowd. Icy blue eyes turn in our direction and pin me with their intensity. Prickles creep up my back at his fierce gaze. I look away, tighten my grip on my dress, and scowl at my lap.

Sara snaps photos, but I keep my gaze fixed on my lap, hoping he pays more attention to Sara than to me. I don’t need any accidental cameras on me after King Ragan dies, and some clueless prince spots my face and makes a remark.

Sara ducks inside the car window and says, “He waved! Did you see it, Panda?”

“Uh, no.”