A Prince Among Them...

"Demon or angel." The Matron When the oddity of life became too much to bear, Annelore's voice would become strangely tight. For me, what difference does it make? All I have left, Gramor, is Elyra. Just like I lost her mother, I won't lose her. At least while he was around, her tone was well controlled and never rose. But Gramor knew her well enough to see the panic that few things had ever evoked, the fear that lay behind her words.

Gramor said, "It makes a difference," shifting the staff in his twisted hand to keep his distance from the discussion taking place in front of him. His tired eyes lingered on the wooden skull that had been twisted and polished by many movements over the years. Angels are sent by God and should not be treated lightly. We're not talking about an errand boy of hell. They may easily be outmatched by five by the lowest angel.

Annelore muttered, "Then let it be a low angel," with a hint of desperation in her voice that she was unable to completely hide. She appeared worn out, her strength diminishing every day. "Elyra has no trouble matching five lesser spawn." Without any genuine humor, a self-deprecating smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "Her mom didn't pick any old demon, did she? But one of them is a royal.

Gramor's thoughts inadvertently strayed to that idea, and despite his best efforts, he was unable to control a slight shiver. But then, hadn't Astra always had a different perspective than most women? Maybe she had caught a glimpse of a soul behind those awful eyes. All he could do was pray. He reminded her out loud that she only had half of her father's blood, regardless of the power he possessed.

The matron's eyes glowed with indignation. Even though they were inextricably linked, she seldom ever put up with the creature being referred to as Elyra's father. Strangely enough, she didn't raise an objection out loud this time. She slumped back in her chair and her eyes strayed almost unintentionally to the window of the study. She repeated out loud, "It doesn't matter." "The only family I have left is Elyra. I can't let her go either.

Gramor couldn't let this comment to go unanswered this time, regardless of whether it was about her granddaughter's background or present circumstances. "The only family you have left?" he repeated, a disapproving frown forming on his thin lips. "Have you persuaded not just the two of them but also yourself of that?"

The matron remained silent. Her fists clenched around the chair's arms, their hold momentarily as fervent as before. Then, however, they relaxed, showing a tacit submission. "Amara must never know," she conceded in a dejected tone. "I was unable to protect my daughter from the fire... At least I can spare my grandchild from the shame this family has become.

“And you really think so,” he said, his voice tinged with something like disdain. She would be better off alone than with what you refer to as shame. and that you were genuinely unable to protect her mother from the fire. He was right to see that the elderly woman winced. Even though her face was turned away, he continued to stare at her until her head lowered slightly.

She seems determined to follow the threadwork of her dress.

The last charge hung between them unheard, and he did not say the rest. Not even you stood up for her. Even though he had spent a lifetime hating her, there was no need in making that final jab. After all, what had he done? He couldn't have taken many chances either. But he had done his best. In order to protect the mother and her young child, he had offered to remove them from the village permanently. Astra would have approved of it. He was still baffled by her sister's rejection.

As likely as it was that it was her daughter's fault, Annelore was even more likely to be concerned. She hadn't wanted to leave the elderly woman alone. We both can't abandon her.

Gramor turned away from the memory and shook his head. Such devotion was unworthy of the elderly woman. After all these years, his presence by her side had long since stopped being about her.

Finally, with a voice devoid of the poison it had just contained, he said, "So you'll have me protect Elyra." "Because you made me defend her mother." A protracted hush ensued, indicating once more that she was hesitant to acknowledge her reliance on a creature such as him. He had nothing left to waste on her, but he would have sighed. That had long since foretold nothing but bad things to come.

He didn't ask for permission or provoke anyone before speaking again. He simply raised his head to look out the window at the fading light and whispered, "I will protect Elyra." Because I was requested to by Astra. Her mother was—is—a good woman, but not for your sake or the girl's. There was a momentary silence. "If there isn't a much better reason, I don't want to be called here again."

At that moment, he turned and started to go, but the matron's progressively softer voice interrupted him from behind. "I have a question for you regarding Amara."

Gramor didn't even stop to hear it.

Few people in the city, in one way or another, were important to Elyra. She found herself on her own doorstep, starring at the person she liked the least, as night fell and her day's search came to a standstill. Seeing her contempt, Gramor, who had come out the door, looked her in the eyes. With an almost imperceptible acknowledgement, he pushed past her without a look, adjusting the heavy leather hood that hid his deadly features from the daylight.

In the wake of the near-vampire, Elyra shivered with rage, her eyes automatically closing at the thought of him, her fingers clenched into fists. She stood still for three breaths, then eased her posture, opened her eyes, and entered the home.

This time, Amara was waiting for her on the stairway, perhaps after listening in on the recently concluded talk. However, the half-demon wasn't bothered by the elders' conversation. When the younger girl saw her, her eyes opened rapidly, and she backed away, perhaps with the intention of running to her mistress's side so that Elyra couldn't interrogate her.

Elyra was not in the mood for games, so when the girl attempted to flee, she was grabbed by the collar. Her witch's grace was no match for her demonic quickness. "Remain there!" She staggered into Elyra's arms as she screamed and gave her a violent back pull. She discreetly pulled the girl down the stairs to her own bedroom while tightly clamping one hand over her lips and the other around her waist.