The faint sound of running water filled the small kitchen. A single lantern hanging from a wooden beam cast a warm, glow across the room. Clay pots and iron pans lined the shelves, and the faint scent of spices lingered in the air — remnants of last night's curry.
Ren stood by a worn basin, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing the last of the dishes with a cloth. The water in the basin rippled as he worked, his movements steady but his thoughts restless.
She actually declined the king's invitation…he thought, shaking his head.
I knew she was crazy, but this crazy?
He sighed and set the bowl aside to dry. Wiping his hands on a cloth, he stepped out into the dining room.
"Madam Vaspera," he said carefully. "The dishes are done."
Vaspera sat by the dining table, her posture relaxed yet commanding. A half-empty teacup rested in front of her as she gave a quiet, dismissive hum.
"Hm."
Ren hesitated, shifting his weight. "Would you mind if I asked you something?"
Without lifting her gaze, she replied, "Go ahead."
Ren scratched the back of his neck. "Why did you decline the king's invitation? I mean… he just wanted to talk, didn't he?"
Vaspera finally looked up, the faintest smirk curving her lips. "And why, exactly, should i accept? I declined because I simply can."
Ren blinked. Yeah... she's terrifying.
He forced a laugh. "Wouldn't it be trouble for us though? He's the king, after all. He could just send multiple soldiers and knigh—"
"So what?" Vaspera interrupted coolly, leaning back in her chair. "Those soldiers and knights wouldn't last a single minute against me."
Ren swallowed hard. "Y-yeah, o-of course… they wouldn't."
Before another word could be said, a sudden knock echoed through the house.
Knock. Knock.
The air seemed to still. Ren and Vaspera exchanged a brief glance.
Another knock — slower, heavier.
Then came a calm, resonant voice from behind the door.
"Can I come in?"
Ren turned toward Vaspera. She hadn't moved an inch — still seated, as though waiting to see what would happen next.
Ren cleared his throat nervously. "I-I'll go check."
Vaspera gave a faint nod without looking up.
Ren walked to the door, each step echoing faintly across the floor. His hand hesitated on the handle before he slowly pulled it open.
"Who is i—"
He stopped mid-sentence, Standing outside was an elderly man dressed in a long cloak trimmed with gold, the crest of Veloria gleaming faintly on his chest. His expression was calm, dignified, and impossibly familiar — though Ren had never seen him in person.
The man spoke first, his tone composed yet carrying the weight of authority.
"Since you declined my invitation, I've come to meet you in person, Lady Vaspera."
Ren's voice caught in his throat.
It was the King of Veloria himself.
Ren stepped aside with a stiff bow, and the king entered the humble house without complaint, his steps quiet but heavy with presence. The soldiers remained outside as the king followed Ren into the dining room.
Moments later, the three of them were seated at the table, the ordinary room now feeling far too small for the weight it held.
The wooden table — old, scratched, and too small for a royal guest held a presence heavy enough to make the air itself tighten.
The King of Veloria sat calmly at the head of the table, cloak neatly folded behind him like a mantle of quiet authority.
Vaspera sat opposite him, legs crossed, expression bored.Ren sat beside her, stiff as a frozen plank, trying not to breathe too loudly.
Even the silence felt formal.
The king broke it with a sigh.
"Forgive me for arriving without notice," he said, voice warm yet undeniably regal. "I did not wish to intrude so abruptly."
His gaze drifted toward Ren. A small smile touched his lips.
"But I must say… I wasn't aware you were married, Lady Vaspera. Had I known, I would have arranged a grand ceremony worthy of your name."
Ren's soul left his body on the spot.
Vaspera blinked. Once. Twice.
Then she slammed her teacup down so hard the table rattled.
"Have you lost your damn mind, old man?" she snapped. "Married? Me? I'm a lone wolf. I don't need anyone. And I'd marry this loser?" She jabbed a finger at Ren. "You really are getting old."
Loser…? Did she have to say that so loudly…? Ren shrank back, face burning red.
The king chuckled softly, amused rather than offended.
"My apologies. It seems I misunderstood."
His eyes lingered on Ren for a moment, thoughtful.
"But I would still like to know who this young man is?"
Vaspera answered instantly, voice like a blade.
"None of your business. If you came here to chat, leave."
Ren's heart stopped.
She's talking like that… to the king?!
But the king simply exhaled, straightening his back, expression shifting into something quieter. He folded his hands atop the table.
"Very well. I will get to the point."
The room seemed to lean in with him.
"Two weeks ago, a dungeon gate opened in the Northern Ravine of Dravemont."
Ren stiffened. Vaspera's gaze sharpened slightly — not fear, but interest.
"We deployed a squad of knights and soldiers to subjugate the dungeon boss and close the gate. But…" The king's jaw tightened. "None have returned."
A cold weight sank into the room.
"I came to request your aid, Lady Vaspera."
"No," she replied instantly, not even giving him the courtesy of hesitation.
The king blinked. "Please… this is not a command. This is a plea. I will grant anything within my power."
"I said no."
Vaspera rose from her seat, turning her back. "If that's all, then leave."
The king slowly stood as well, desperation creeping into his voice.
"Lady Vaspera… if no one closes that gate, it will continue to expa—"
He didn't finish.
A violent, crushing pressure burst from Vaspera's body — a tidal wave of her aura that slammed into the room like a silent explosion.
The wooden beams groaned. The air vibrated.
The king dropped to one knee, hand braced against the table.
Outside, soldiers staggered and rushed inside.
"Your Maj—!"
They collapsed instantly under the overwhelming force, gasping for breath as if the air itself had turned to stone.
But Ren — untouched by the aura — shot to his feet, panic surging through him.
"Madam Vaspera! Stop! You'll kill them!"
The aura vanished like a blown-out candle.
Silence crashed down.
Vaspera didn't spare a single glance back. Her footsteps echoed down the hallway as she disappeared toward her room, her hair swaying lazily behind her.
Ren rushed to the king's side.
"I—I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," he stammered, helping him stand.
"It's alright," the king managed, still catching his breath. "I provoked her. The blame is mine."
The soldiers slowly recovered, rising shakily to their feet.
The king placed a steady hand on Ren's shoulder.
His eyes — tired, earnest, and quietly pleading — met Ren's.
"She listened to you," he said softly. "You are the only one she did not strike down. You are the only one she obeyed."
Ren froze.
The king's voice wavered.
"Young man… please speak to her. Convince her. Lot of lives may depend on it."
Ren's hands trembled.
"M-me…? You want me to talk to her about something this big…?"
The king nodded.
Ren swallowed hard, heart thundering against his ribs.
He had no idea how he was supposed to convince a woman like Vaspera…
but he also knew he couldn't refuse. Not this time.
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