Empress of Self-Ruin

Chapter 8: A Glimpse to His Heart

Arsen was hiding in one of the trees near the window of the trial hall. He concealed his presence and sharpened his senses using his aura as he observed what was currently happening there.

Though he tried hard to focus on the things at hand, his mind just couldn't help but wander to everything that happened in these past few days. After all, he was sure that waking up to find yourself back in time when you were supposed to be dead wasn't an everyday occurrence.

Some would call it a blessing, the other might call it a curse. But for Arsen, it was somewhere in between.

At first, he had been in denial and tried to trick his mind into thinking that everything was just a long nightmare formed by his fucked up imagination. But it had gotten harder to ignore when every waking hour felt like walking on a minefield as if he could feel the shift of earth beneath his feet, something that wasn't supposed to be there, quivering and very much alive.

It took him only a day to crash. He had felt so restless and locked himself alone in the training ground, practicing sword nonstop—just anything to occupy his mind with something other than the fact that he had come back in time.

He went without sleep for four days or so, and when he finally did, he was out all night and half the next day and then—well, imagined how surprised he had been upon waking up and hearing the news about Calypso falling into the lake and Phoebe being the sole suspect in the incident.

He had tried to see Calypso after that; to check up on her, or at least make sure she was alright. But she had been dismissive and detached as usual, and Arsen had been too tired to make a futile attempt; he wasn't in the right state himself.

He felt like all his energy was gone. He had trouble eating and sleeping or doing anything that required more than blinking. Even his aide had been worried when they had to refit his clothes twice these past two weeks alone. Such is life.

He closed his eyes and he forced his mind to a halt, shoving the negative thoughts to the back corner of his head. I need to focus right now, he reminded himself.

He chuckled at his own thoughts; knowing even if he was able to come up with thousands of excuses, deep down, it was just his own cowardice speaking. Because the picture wasn't blurry at all, he just didn't want to see it—he wasn't ready for the truth. The truth was never pretty.

Sighing tiredly, he let himself back to the present and focused his attention on the trial hall.

The atmosphere was tense. Seven court members were sitting in their respective seats; their eyes scrutinized the young woman with long silver hair who kneeled in front of them while an imperial guard pointed his sword at her slender neck.

He couldn't help the bitter smile that formed on his lips at the sight of her. It was the first time he saw her again ever since he woke up in the past. The image of her shedding tears during his last moment resurfaced and the guilt—

Arsen shook his head. He didn't want to think about it; at least not now. So he shifted his gaze to the side, where a knight knelt beside her. He looked very familiar, with his blonde hair and Duke Aragon's crest on his uniform.

What is his name again? Is it Leon-–yes, I think that's his name.

He didn't know him well, but he often saw him hovering around Phoebe; even in the previous timeline. Arsen had a feeling that he might harbor special feelings for her.

Then of course, his own uncle, Duke Constantine Aragon, was standing behind them. His expression didn't give anything away, but if one would look close enough they would notice that the way he clenched his fists a bit too forcefully didn't match the calmness on his face.