"Amie, it’s been almost a week. You still haven’t told me what actually happened." Aster said, placing a hand on Amethiel’s shoulder.
"I told you, Father," Amethiel replied, his tone already edged with frustration. "The monster just became harder to handle than usual, so I called the knights just in case. Whatever my brothers told you is wrong. They’ve never liked any of my monsters."
"Amie," Aster said more gently, though there was still weight behind his voice. "You’ve been moodier than usual. You barely come out of your room. And..."
He sighed, his hand resting more firmly on Amethiel’s shoulder. "You have never called the knights for anything unless they were part of your tests. As your father, I think I have the right to worry. Your brothers, too."
A few more days had passed since Amethiel’s...unfortunate experience with Kree.
And maybe—
Just a little—
It had affected him.
Who wouldn’t?
Amethiel pressed his lips together briefly.
Still, he had learned something from it.
A lot, actually.
The reason he had been staying inside wasn’t that he was shaken. It wasn’t fear.
It was a focus.
"Father, nothing too out of control happened," Amethiel said, forcing his tone to steady. "I’m just being smarter now. I ask for help when I need it instead of handling everything alone."
He shifted slightly, brushing his coat as if that would smooth out the tension.
"The only reason I haven’t been coming out is that I’ve been making sure the monster is...perfect before I unveil it."
"Speaking of that, Amethiel, don’t you think—"
"Dad..." Amethiel stepped closer, cutting him off before he could continue.
His voice softened, but there was something insistent underneath. "I’ve worked really hard on this. I’ve made progress. You know why I started this."
His gaze didn’t waver.
"I started this because it made me feel closer to my mother. She dedicated so much of her time to researching monsters, and I may have found something that could change how we see them. That they’re more—"
"—Than just decorations and pets," Aster finished quietly.
His hand moved, cupping Amethiel’s cheek with a gentle familiarity. "That’s what she used to say all the time."
He let out a small chuckle, though it sounded more like he was remembering something far away.
’Really?’ Amethiel thought, watching his expression. ’Now that was just on a whim.’
Aster’s gaze drifted slightly, his attention no longer fully on the present.
"Have I told you how we first met?" he asked. "Your mother and I."
Amethiel shook his head. "You rarely talk about her lately. I only know you met because she was a monster researcher, and you were...well, you."
Aster smiled faintly at that. "That’s because you remind me so much of her. It doesn’t feel like she’s gone."
There was a pause before he continued.
"We met when I accompanied my father, your grandfather, on a monster hunt."
"You used to hunt monsters?" Amethiel asked, raising a brow.
Aster straightened slightly, a hint of pride showing. "Your father knows a thing or two, you know. It was expected in our family. Especially since we’ve been dealing with selling monsters to other kingdoms for generations. It started with your great, great, great grandfather."
"That, I know," Amethiel said. It was the reason they had everything. Their wealth, their influence, their name.
The Viremonts weren’t just nobles.
They were the backbone of the kingdom’s economy.
Owners of the largest bank.
Controllers of the monster trade.
The so-called "masters of wealth and prestige."
"We brought this dying kingdom its riches," Amethiel said, crossing his arms. "They should be grateful to us."
Aster rolled his eyes slightly. "It wasn’t just us. We’re just the ones maintaining it."
"Same thing, father."
"Anyway," Aster continued, brushing a hand lightly through Amethiel’s hair, a familiar gesture. "Your mother and I met while I was hunting monsters with your grandfather, and she was there collecting specimens for her research. Just like you. And just like you, she insisted on doing everything herself."
"Really?"
"Yes," Aster said, his smile softening. "And she recognized me immediately."
"I’m sure you’re not exactly easy to miss, father."
The Viremont family was known for their appearance as much as their status.
Despite being called the Violet House, most of them had pink hair.
Only Amethiel and his mother carried that darker shade of violet.
His green eyes, though, came from Aster.
"She was angry with me," Aster said with a quiet laugh. "She thought it was inhumane that our family profited from monsters. That was the first thing she told me."
Amethiel blinked. "And you fell for her because she argued with you?"
"I liked her fire," Aster replied simply. "In a world where most people try to please you, she didn’t. She didn’t lower her gaze. She didn’t soften her words. She stood her ground."
There was a pause.
Then he added, softer this time,
"That made her unforgettable."
’Ah, yes. The look of love,’ Amethiel thought as he watched his father. It was strange to him.
Love had always been something distant, something he could observe but never quite understand.
He couldn’t imagine giving himself fully to another person.
Spending every waking day with them, shaping your life around theirs, only to lose them in the end and be left with nothing but grief.
Much like his father.
"Look, Amie, I want to support you because I know she would."
See?
Every word, every gesture, it all came from that same place.
Love.
"But I’m worried about you. If you can promise me that if anything else happens, you will let me know, and we will kill that monster. I will leave this issue be."
Amethiel didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his father, resting his head lightly against his shoulder.
"I promise, Father, I will tell you. I won’t risk myself, you know that," he said, his voice calm.
"Good," Aster replied, hugging him back. "I trust that no matter how fascinated you are, you won’t let yourself get hurt."
"Yes."
That part, at least, was true.
Amethiel had made a mistake once, trusting Kree too soon.
He wouldn’t make it again.
After a few more quiet moments, Aster finally pulled away and left.
The moment the door closed—
Amethiel’s expression shifted.
The softness faded.
Replaced by focus.
’Back to work,’ he thought.
He wasted no time preparing himself, already moving toward the hidden entrance to his lab.
"Hmm. Mhm. Mhmm." Amethiel hummed quietly to himself as he made his way down, the faint sound of clunking echoing from below.
Once he reached the bottom, his eyes immediately found him.
The large, humanoid figure.
Kree.
"Looks like you’re still healing," Amethiel said as he took in the sight of Kree’s face, still marked from the burns.
The damage had not fully faded yet, the skin uneven in places.
Kree noticed him right away.
He began to move, crawling closer.
Slowly.
"Where were we on your vocabulary?" Amethiel asked, his tone light, almost casual.
"G-Goo... goo... mor..."
Amethiel’s expression sharpened instantly.
He moved without hesitation, reaching for the whip he had prepared earlier.
"What was that?" he said, his voice colder now. "You know what happens when you don’t speak properly."
Kree froze.
"Amethiel..." Kree whispered, fear slipping into his voice. "A-Amethie—"
SNAP.
The whip struck.
Kree let out a small, pained sound, his body flinching under the impact.
"It’s Master."