My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

The atmosphere may have been solemn, but that still didn’t change the nature of the people there. Nobles were powerful for many reasons, and a lot of them desired even more power. That power could be gained through their own influence within the framework of society.

Even though young Godric had been taken, it didn’t stop people from trying to forge new connections and advance their interests.

It was the same at any gathering.

People moved on too easily.

It would be the same when you died.

Everyone would gather to mourn you. Some would cry, some would lament, eventually all would forget.

At your funeral food and drinks would be distributed, they’d share tales of who you were and what you’ve done, then they would scatter. Tomorrow would come and suddenly you were a memory. Your family or close relatives might remember you longer, eventually even they would forget.

Godric was still alive, but then why did Damon feel so annoyed seeing people move on so quickly and stop talking about the young boy?

His frown deepened so much he barely noticed Abellona walking up beside him. It wasn’t because she could avoid his senses, it was simply because he’d shut off any mental parameter that would allow him to focus on things that weren’t a threat. It was a subconscious habit, for people to ignore the whole and focus on the things that seemed important, and often times that was a mistake.

"You seem awfully bothered by this," she said calmly, stopping beside him and resting a hand lightly against the balcony railing.

"Be weird if I wasn’t," he answered without looking at her, his gaze remaining fixed on the crowd below.

Abellona sighed softly and turned her head toward him.

"Where have you been this past two years or so?"

Damon felt his lips curl into a faint smile. He finally glanced at her. She looked beautiful as always. Seeing her made Damon think of Mugu and how he had once been so deeply in love with her ancestor only to end up hating her the most. Or maybe he didn’t hate her. Damon couldn’t even imagine something like that being possible considering how much Mugu had loved her.

"I’ve been around and about. Honestly, I thought after dealing with the great dragon Ashergon I’d catch a break, only to find myself trapped in a dungeon."

Abellona stared ahead, though a faint reddish tint touched her cheeks.

"So you were trapped in a dungeon for two years with another woman, huh?"

Damon blinked.

For a moment he didn’t understand what she was implying. Then he remembered how he and Abellona had once been trapped together in a dungeon running from Ashcroft and what happened between them, or rather what didn’t happen.

If there had ever been a true test of willpower for Damon, then his encounter with Abellona had been one.

Resisting a beautiful woman throwing herself at him while wearing scarcely any clothes was truly a test of his will.

"That... I..." he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn’t even sure how to explain that he and Lilith hadn’t done anything untoward.

Then he suddenly remembered they had shared a room in the Tomb of Lesser Gods.

His expression froze.

’Well what do you know, we actually do.’

"My lady, I am a wed man. I wouldn’t go around tainting young maidens," he said defensively.

Abellona wasn’t buying it at all.

Her gaze drifted across the room toward baby Ranar sitting in Evangeline’s arms. Evangeline was wiping the little girl’s face with a handkerchief while Ranar stubbornly tried to avoid it.

"You have a daughter. I don’t imagine she popped out of thin air."

Then she sighed after seeing Damon’s awkward expression.

"Actually she sort of did," he muttered.

"I hope you’ve heard the rumors surrounding Evangeline Brightwater."

Damon frowned slowly, the skin between his brows creasing.

"What rumors?"

Abellona leaned closer before lowering her voice.

"Apparently you and Evangeline had little Ranar out of wedlock. The Brightwater family decided to cover the whole thing up. Instead of marrying you two, that’s why Ranar looks so much like Evangeline."

Damon glanced across the room.

Eva was still cleaning Ranar’s mouth with the patience of a saint while the little girl squirmed in protest and received what was obviously a lecture.

"Does Eva know about this?" he asked, suddenly feeling guilty.

"It would be strange if she didn’t. She hasn’t tried to refute anything publicly. I think it’s pointless. Not like anyone would believe her anyway. That girl looks too much like her."

"I see," Damon said slowly.

This was probably his fault since he was the one who jokingly made the accusation. Reality was cruel. That said, even if he hadn’t made the accusation, Eva would probably still be accused of being Ranar’s mother. Rumors spread like wildfire.

"Oh well, sucks to be Eva."

"You are still the same as before, aren’t you?" Abellona sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"You mean lovable and sweet? Yes, yes I am."

"No."

She turned toward him fully, giving him a flat look.

"An insufferable, malicious jerk."

Damon placed a hand over his chest as though wounded by her words.

"My princess, your opinion of me wounds my soul."

"You don’t have one."

"That was unnecessarily accurate."

He placed a hand over his chest as though genuinely offended, his expression twisting into exaggerated hurt.

"Now that is really mean. You might hurt my feelings."

Abellona didn’t take him seriously for even a second.

A smile tugged at her lips before she reached out and pinched his arm.

"I was worried about you. I mean, you just up and disappeared."

Damon stared at her for a moment.

Normally he was human garbage, so what came out of his mouth next wasn’t surprising.

"Ahh, you see a woman naked once and her whole personality flips. What happened to the cold Abellona? Bring her back."

Abellona rolled her eyes before waving a hand and pulling a bottle of wine from her storage ring.

The glass caught the light as she held it up between them.

"Why don’t we have a few drinks and find out which version of me comes out?"

She stepped closer.

Far closer than noble etiquette allowed.

Leaning toward his ear, her warm breath brushed lightly against his skin.

Damon felt a shiver run down his spine.

"I’d never turn down a good drink, but shouldn’t we be trying to avoid a scandal, Princess?" he asked as she grabbed his sleeve and began pulling him away from the gathering.

"You mean worse than the one we are already hiding?" she whispered.

Damon suddenly frowned.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at her.

"You’re not trying to get out of paying back what you owe, right?"

Abellona laughed.

A genuine laugh.

The kind Damon rarely heard from her.

And so Damon found himself alone with the Princess of Valtheron.

At first everything was normal.

Or at least as normal as two people with their history could manage.

A few drinks.

A little conversation.

Politics.

The war.

The temple.

The demons.

The outsiders.

The bottle slowly emptied as another appeared.

Time slipped away unnoticed.

The tension that always seemed to exist between them softened beneath the warmth of alcohol and familiarity.

Abellona’s cheeks gradually turned red.