Royal Bastard’s Bloodstained Regression -
Chapter 113: Stuck in the past
They arrived at the dining hall—a long, ornate chamber with arched ceilings and gold-trimmed chandeliers. The table was already set. Silverware gleamed. Steam rose from bowls of freshly cooked meats, bread, fruit, and warm stew.
Varian nearly cried.
"Oh gods," he whispered, taking a seat. "This is what dreams taste like."
William nodded with big eyes. "I've never seen this much food... even in my imagination."
Moments later, Vexen entered gracefully, followed by the royal chef and a small procession of maids carrying trays. They laid the dishes out with practiced elegance—bowls of roasted vegetables, honey-glazed meats, and soft loaves of bread still warm from the oven.
Nyxtriel took the seat beside Daemon without hesitation.
Vexen watched.
She stepped forward with a courteous smile, "My lord," she said sweetly, "shouldn't your companion be seated further down? Traditionally, only nobles or family sit at the head of the table with royalty."
Daemon raised an eyebrow.
Nyxtriel's gaze sharpened, but she didn't move.
Varian paused mid-bite and looked around like someone watching the start of a bar fight.
Daemon turned slightly, elbow resting on the table, and met Vexen's gaze. "She stays," he said simply. "Tradition can wait."
Vexen's lips twitched. "Of course, my lord," she said, masking her irritation as she backed away.
Nyxtriel didn't say a word. She didn't need to. The way her posture relaxed slightly said everything. Daemon noticed.
He leaned closer, just enough for her to hear. "Still not jealous?"
She scoffed under her breath and grabbed a piece of bread. "I'll stab you with this."
Daemon grinned.
Across the table, William and Varian were already halfway into the stew. Varian leaned to William and whispered, "Okay, this is officially the weirdest love triangle I've ever seen."
William nodded with his mouth full. "Do you think we'll get dessert?"
Daemon had begun to notice it.
Vexen's sudden change.
In his past life, she never acted like this—she used to avoid him, flinch around him even. But now? She was watching him. Smiling at him. Walking closer than necessary. Acting familiar.
Does she... like me?
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She caught it and returned a soft smile.
Daemon blinked.
No. Impossible. There's no way. She hates me. Or... she should.
Women were more complicated than battlefield politics. He gave up trying to make sense of it.
As he tried to refocus, his fork slipped from his hand and clattered to the ground.
Before he could move, both Nyxtriel and Vexen reached for it at the same time.
Their hands met halfway.
The fork lay between them like a gauntlet.
"What are you doing?" Vexen asked, her voice polite but cold. "It's my duty to attend to the prince."
Nyxtriel didn't budge. "I've been serving my lord far longer. I know what he needs better than anyone."
Their glares locked. The air tightened.
One of the maids leaned toward another and whispered, "Are they fighting over a fork or the prince?"
"I think... both?"
Varian looked around nervously. "Is this normal palace stuff? Like some weird noble courting ritual?"
William just kept chewing his bread in silence, eyes wide.
Daemon watched the tension mount, rubbed his temples, then stood up abruptly.
"That's it. I'm not hungry anymore."
He grabbed a cloth, wiped his hands, and started walking toward the hall.
William immediately stood. "Me neither. I'm full."
Varian followed, stuffing one last piece of meat into his mouth. "Yup. Delicious. Definitely full."
Nyxtriel stood slowly, eyes still locked on Vexen. "Excuse me, my lord."
Vexen curtsied, her tone overly sweet. "Enjoy your day, my prince."
As they exited the hall, the tension lingered like smoke.
"See what you did, you human!" Nyxtriel snapped as they walked out.
"Human? We're both human—respect yourself, lady," Varian shot back.
Their glares clashed mid-air like drawn swords. They turned away from each other with synchronized scoffs.
Nyxtriel marched off ahead, ignoring Varian completely, her eyes locked on Dameon like a heat-seeking arrow.
Outside in the palace courtyard, two royal horses were already saddled and waiting. Dameon stood beside them, arms crossed.
He handed the reins of one horse to Varian and motioned for William to mount the other.
"Varian," he said, voice steady, "you're in charge. Take care of William. Train him. Five days away from the palace should be enough. Don't go easy on him."
Varian grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Kekeke... trust me, I won't spare him. I'll turn him into a real killer."
William gulped but tried to stand tall. "I'm ready, my lord."
Dameon looked at him for a moment longer, then nodded. "Good. Don't die."
Nyxtriel stepped beside Dameon just as the two horses began trotting down the path. She crossed her arms and tilted her head.
"You trust that fool to train William?"
"He's loud, reckless, and cocky," Dameon said. "But under pressure, he fights like a beast. And William needs that right now."
Nyxtriel glanced at him sideways. "Still... I could've trained him."
Dameon smirked. "You just wanted to get away from Vexen."
Nyxtriel's cheeks flushed. "That woman needs to be exiled."
"Relax," he said, turning to head inside. "She's not worth your attention. We've got more important things to do."
As they walked off, the camera of the world shifted back toward the road, where William turned in his saddle for one last glance.
"I won't let you down," he whispered.
As Varian and William disappeared beyond the palace gates on horseback, the morning sun casting long shadows behind them, Dameon turned to head back—only to hear hurried footsteps.
"Brother!" Gabriel called out.
Dameon turned as Gabriel jogged up to him, still in his formal wear, the ever-present warmth in his voice.
"What are you doing here? I thought you'd still be with your guests."
"Oh, Gabriel," Dameon said casually, brushing a speck of dust from his sleeve. "They just left on a small errand."
Gabriel glanced past him, toward the distant road. "From afar, I saw them leaving. Did they decide to go home?"
"No, not at all." Dameon gave a soft smile. "Actually, I had a surprise prepared for your coronation. Something I thought you'd love. But I forgot about it until now—so they're going to retrieve it for me."
Gabriel lit up, touched. "A surprise? For me?"
"Well, it is your big day coming up," Dameon said smoothly.
"You didn't have to go through the trouble..."
"I wanted to," Dameon replied, calm and unreadable. "After all, we're brothers."
Gabriel paused, staring at Dameon for a second too long. "You've changed."
"Oh, right—Gabriel," Dameon called out, "what happened yesterday? You left without saying anything. Did Father say something to you?"
Gabriel, who was about to head in the opposite direction, paused mid-step. His back still turned, his voice came out lower, more guarded.
"Not really. We just had a normal conversation."
Dameon narrowed his eyes. He won't even face me. Something definitely happened.
"I see," Dameon replied, dropping it for now. Pressing further wouldn't get him anywhere. "Well then, I'm off to train."
"Alone?" Gabriel asked, surprised.
"No. With Sir Veyne."
Gabriel hesitated, then turned slightly with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I see. I wish I could come, but I've been summoned to an important meeting at the temple."
The temple...
Dameon didn't react, but the thought lingered. I wonder how the Saintess is doing after what I showed her...
"Sure," he said simply, as Nyxtriel gave a quiet bow and stepped beside him.
"Wait, brother," Gabriel said suddenly.
Dameon stopped and turned.
Gabriel's expression softened. "I just wanted to say... no matter what happens, I'll always love you."
Dameon blinked. What the hell does that mean?
There was a shift in the air—something heavy Gabriel wasn't saying.
"We're both grown up now. Why say something like that out of nowhere? It's weird," Dameon muttered, looking away.
Gabriel laughed lightly. "You seriously hurt me. But I know that's just your way of saying it back."
Dameon smirked. "Believe whatever helps you sleep."
"Alright. See you later," Gabriel said with a wave, turning back toward the carriage.
Dameon watched him go, a gnawing sense of unease tightening in his gut. What the hell is going on with you, Gabriel?
Nyxtriel glanced at him. "Are we going?"
"Yeah," Dameon said, finally turning away. "Let's go."
As they walked, Nyxtriel kept glancing at Dameon. He was unusually quiet, lost in thought.
"My lord," she said softly, "is something bothering you?"
Dameon slowed his steps. Part of him wanted to lie, to brush it off. Showing weakness—even to her—felt wrong. But another part of him knew she wouldn't back off.
"Don't worry about it," he muttered. "It's nothing. Let's keep going."
Nyxtriel frowned, stepping in front of him to block his path. "No. You have to tell me. We're in this together. You said it yourself—I'm your sword, your companion."
Dameon paused, staring at her. Her voice wasn't stern or cold.
He finally exhaled. "It's... strange. The people who made my life hell before—Gabriel, Veyne, even my father—they're acting differently now. Kinder. And I don't know how to react. It's... unsettling."
Nyxtriel tilted her head, thinking. "I don't fully understand human emotion," she said. "But maybe... you're scared of changing your mind."
He raised an eyebrow. "Changing my mind?"
"Maybe part of you wants to be loved by them. Maybe part of you still wishes things had been different. But the pain they caused... it's still hunting you. That's why you won't move forward."
Dameon's eyes widened. He hadn't expected her to cut so deep.
"I... didn't think you'd understand."
Nyxtriel looked down. "I once knew someone like you. He was stuck in the past, too. Trapped by it. He never moved on."
"What happened to him?" Dameon asked quietly.
"He died," she said. "And it wasn't because he was weak. It was because he couldn't let go."
Before Dameon could reply, a voice interrupted them.
"Oh—Prince Dameon! You're here!" Captain Veyne jogged toward them, armor clinking with every step. "I've been waiting at the training grounds."
Dameon blinked, realizing they had already arrived. When did we get here? He'd been so lost in Nyxtriel's words, he hadn't noticed.
And then it clicked.
She had been talking about Seraphiel.
She remembered.
And she knew he had once loved someone.
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