The following weeks passed in a blur as Silas, Rowan, and Layla travelled through Durham, Dundalk, and Inverness, gathering rare materials for the Elemental Bond ceremony. By the time they left Inverness, they had acquired about two-thirds of what they needed. They felt one step closer to their goal with each stop as they rode toward Sterling under the rising sun.

The morning was crisp, with the chill of dawn still hanging in the air, but the warmth of their friendship made the ride pleasant.

“I’ve been to Sterling once,” Rowan began, breaking the quiet. “It’s as gaudy as its name suggests. A rich city, full of jewellers, merchants, and nobles who make their money from the metals excavated in the nearby mines. The jewellery sold there is said to be the best in Amberfell.”

Silas and Layla listened, intrigued by Rowan’s recollection. Layla’s eyes sparkled at the mention of fine jewellery, though she kept her thoughts to herself.

“The place reeks of wealth,” Rowan continued. “But it’s also... extravagant, if you know what I mean. Gold-plated doors, gemstone encrusted fountains, that kind of thing. It’s beautiful, sure, but it can feel... excessive.”

Rowan's words echoed in Silas's mind as they reached Sterling at noon. The city was just as Rowan had described. It was a dazzling display of wealth, with wide, clean streets lined with towering manors and luxurious buildings. The manors were adorned with grandiose facades, gilded gates, and intricate carvings, showcasing the opulence of the city’s elite. Ornate statues stood guard outside the entrance to some homes, while others had shimmering tapestries hanging from balconies, fluttering in the light breeze. Even the city’s streets seemed to gleam under the midday sun, polished stone reflecting the light as carriages pulled by sleek horses moved smoothly along them.

After stabling their horses at a nearby stable that was, in typical Sterling fashion, lined with shining brass fixtures, they found an inn near the city’s centre. The innkeeper, a prim woman dressed in deep purple velvet, showed them to a large room with four beds. It cost them a fortune of five silver coins per night, but this was the standard price for inns in Sterling.

The accommodations were more than comfortable, each bed draped with fine linens and plush pillows. After dropping off their belongings, the trio, along with Goldie and Trickster, immediately set off for the market, eager to save time and continue their hunt for the final pieces of the Elemental Bond ceremony materials.

The Sterling market was a glittering spectacle. Merchants displayed wares that sparkled in the sun—ornate jewellery with precious stones, shimmering necklaces, intricate rings, and earrings that caught the light at every angle. There were also stalls selling raw metallic ores, some in rough chunks, others polished and shaped into gleaming ingots. Silver, gold, and platinum shimmered, and rare minerals from distant lands were stacked in organised displays. Delicate chains hung from racks like waterfalls of gold, while rings of every shape and size lay nestled on cushions of velvet. It was impossible not to be captivated by the sheer artistry of the craftsmanship on display.

Layla's eyes darted between shimmering necklaces and gleaming rings, her lips curling into a faint smile as she admired the craftsmanship. Even Silas, who rarely cared for such things, found himself momentarily entranced by the sheer artistry of the pieces.

The group wandered through the market, weaving between stalls and merchants who called out to them, offering their finest creations. Silas, Rowan, and Layla found a few more materials for the ceremony, carefully inspecting each item before deciding to purchase.

Just as they were about to leave the market, Silas casually placed a hand on Rowan’s shoulder. “Things sure are going smoothly for you and Layla, huh?” he whispered with a knowing grin.

Rowan’s face reddened instantly, his hand reflexively rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I... I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled, unable to meet Silas’s gaze.

Silas chuckled softly. “Come on, man. You’ve got to grab this opportunity. Do you know what the secret to winning a woman’s heart is?”

Rowan gave him a sceptical look and asked, “No... What is it?”

“It is giving her gifts! Now, isn’t Sterling the perfect place for a gift?” Silas said with a smile.

Rowan gave him a disdainful look, “Oh, so you’re an expert now?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m sure you’ve got a whole lot of experience.”

Silas raised an eyebrow as if offended before breaking into laughter, and Rowan soon joined in, the tension between them dissolving instantly.

“Well,” Silas said, still grinning, “Try and see if I am right.” He glanced at Layla, who was eyeing a stall selling amulets, and added, “I’ll leave you two alone.”

Without giving Rowan a chance to protest, Silas turned to Layla. “Nature calls,” he said with a casual wave of his hand, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Before Layla could respond, Silas disappeared into the crowd, leaving Rowan and Layla standing together in the bustling market.

Layla raised an eyebrow, watching Silas vanish into the sea of people. “He sure ran off quickly, didn’t he?” she said with an amused tone.

Rowan nodded seriously, trying to mask his own amusement. “Must have been an emergency,” he said, giving an understanding nod while silently offering Silas a mental thumbs-up for the smooth exit.

Layla chuckled, clearly entertained by the absurdity of it all. But before she could say anything further, Rowan reached for her hand, a spark of determination flashing in his eyes. “Let’s explore the jewellery shops,” he blurted out, gently tugging her toward a nearby storefront.

Caught off guard, Layla blinked but didn’t resist. “Jewellery?” she repeated, though the surprise in her voice quickly turned into curiosity. “Sure, let’s go.”

Trickster and Goldie followed behind Rowan and Layla curious about what these two were up to.

The shop Rowan led her to was one of the largest they had passed—its windows filled with elegant displays of finely crafted rings, necklaces, and bracelets, each piece more intricate than the last. Inside, the walls were lined with cases of glittering treasures, and the scent of polished wood and lavender filled the air. Rowan glanced around, feeling somewhat out of his depth in such a luxurious setting but determined not to let it show.

Layla wandered through the displays, her eyes scanning the myriad of sparkling items, while Rowan stood close by, trying to gauge her reactions.

“So... is there anything you like?” Rowan asked, his voice a touch too casual as he leaned closer to her.

Layla smiled, her fingers lightly grazing a delicate gold chain with a small emerald pendant. “It’s all beautiful, but I’m not really one for fancy things,” she said with a shrug. “Still, it’s fun to look.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

How about... I get you something?” Rowan’s voice was casual, but his hand trembled slightly as he pointed to a display. “You know, just a little something.

Layla blinked, caught off guard by Rowan's sudden offer. She hurriedly replied, “A gift? You don’t have to do that.” She wasn’t one for fancy gifts from others, but something about the gesture tugged at her heart. A warmth crept up her neck as she glanced at him.

“I know,” Rowan said quickly, “but I want to.”

Layla seemed unsure how to respond for a moment, but then her expression softened, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. “Alright, but nothing too extravagant, okay?”

Rowan smiled, relieved. “Deal.”

☪︎ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･❂

Silas had another reason for leaving Rowan and Layla alone. He wasn’t simply giving them time to themselves; he had his own mission in mind. As his thoughts drifted back to Regina, he knew he wanted to be prepared for their subsequent encounter. Whether she had distanced herself out of fear or something more, Silas remained resolute. ‘Preparation’, he mused, ‘made a man successful in all his endeavours—romantic or otherwise.’

He wandered through Sterling’s busy market, taking his time as he browsed various jewellery shops. The displays were dazzling—rings encrusted with rubies, necklaces gleaming with gold, and bracelets adorned with intricate designs—but none seemed quite right. He had something specific in mind, something subtle but meaningful.

After visiting several shops, he finally found it—a delicate sapphire pendant set in a simple but elegant silver chain. The rich blue of the gemstone immediately reminded him of Regina’s eyes, the way they would shift from stormy to serene, depending on her mood. He nodded to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. ‘This will suit her hair and eyes perfectly’, he thought. But then, a wry smile crept onto his face. ‘If she doesn’t accept it, I’ll need to find someone who appreciates fine jewellery.’

He handed over sixty-five silver Grand Era coins and tucked the small velvet pouch containing the pendant safely into his coat. Feeling satisfied, Silas made his way back through the crowd, weaving through the market until he spotted Rowan and Layla again.

Rowan was standing beside Layla, looking a little uncertain but clearly trying his best to remain composed. Layla was examining various pieces of jewellery, Trickster and Goldie watching from below, their curious eyes following her every movement.

Silas approached Rowan, leaning in close to whisper, “Still not done?”

Rowan shot him a look, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. “I don’t know if you’re right about gifts being the secret to winning a woman’s heart, but I’ve definitely learned one thing—women sure can’t make up their minds about what to buy.”

Silas gave a wry smile and glanced over at Layla, haggling aggressively with the jeweller. “Well, I’ve learned that women are definitely better at negotiating.”

Rowan chuckled. “That too.”

They both snickered as Layla finally made her choice, seemingly unaware of their playful exchange. She held a set of delicate golden earrings, each adorned with small emeralds gleaming in the sunlight. After a moment of haggling with the shopkeeper, she managed to bring the price down to forty-five silver Grand Era pieces, a feat that impressed both Rowan and Silas.

“I’ll pay for those,” Rowan said, stepping forward to settle the bill with a proud smile.

Layla, smiling shyly, put the earrings on. The green of the emeralds caught the light, complementing her features. Rowan, standing a bit awkwardly but genuinely, said, “They look good on you.”

“They really suit you,” Rowan replied earnestly, though his voice was slightly awkward.

She glanced at him, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Thank you, Rowan,” she replied bashfully.

Just as they were about to leave, a scream sliced through the air, sharp and panicked. The lively market stilled for a moment, and then a wave of murmurs and uneasy glances followed. Rowan felt the hairs on his neck rise as the tension rose abruptly.

Silas’s head snapped toward the sound, his body tensing. “What was that?” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the rising murmur of the crowd. Rowan and Layla exchanged brief glances, their expressions mirroring the unease that settled in Silas’s chest.

“Let’s go,” Layla said, already moving toward the noise.

The trio weaved through the confused and murmuring crowd, following the sound of the woman’s scream. It wasn’t long before they spotted her—she stood trembling near the mouth of a dark alley, her hand pressed to her mouth as she pointed a shaking finger ahead.

“I-it came from there,” the woman stammered, her eyes wide with horror. “A dog... a dog ran out of the alley. It—it had something in its mouth! A... a head. It was carrying a human head!” she stammered, her words almost lost in her panicked breaths.”

Silas’s brows furrowed as they moved closer to where the commotion was gathering, the crowd thickening as more people pushed toward a nearby alley. He exchanged a wary glance with Rowan and Layla before they squeezed through the masses to the front, where the grisly sight awaited them.

Silas froze, his stomach lurching as he spotted the dog in the alleyway, its teeth gripping a bloodied pike. His mind tried to reject what his eyes were seeing—a severed head swayed grotesquely from the weapon’s end, blood trickling down in sickening spurts.

The dog stood with its back against the wall, growling at the crowd. A piece of cloth fluttered from the pike, torn and dirty, but it seemed that something was written on it.

The crowd could only see the back of the head from their angle. Blood dripped slowly from the base, pooling beneath the dog’s paws and staining the cobblestones red.

Gasps and horrified whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire. The woman who had spotted the dog from the alley had drawn everyone’s attention, but now, no one dared to move or speak above a whisper. Silas’s stomach churned as his eyes drifted toward the blood-soaked ground, unable to tear his gaze from the ghastly sight.

Before anyone could react, a large, bulky man pushed through the crowd with a grunt. His hulking frame made him tower over most of the onlookers, and without hesitation, he stepped toward the dog. He yanked the pike from the animal’s mouth with surprising swiftness, raising it high in the air for all to see.

As the severed head swayed on the pike, the crowd collectively recoiled in horror at the ghastly face that now hung in full view. The eyes had been crudely gouged out, leaving deep, empty sockets that oozed fresh blood, streaking down the cheeks of the lifeless face. The jaw hung slack, contorted into a grotesque expression of death.

Silas could hear sharp intakes of breath around him, the horror of the mutilated face sinking into the crowd. The air grew thick with fear.

“It’s Count Orthel Remington!” someone gasped from the back of the crowd, their voice shaky with disbelief. The realisation rippled through the crowd like a dark wave.

The man, pale as a ghost, placed the pike on the ground with trembling hands. His lips moved, but no sound escaped as he pointed to the blood-soaked cloth. Everyone forced themselves to look—scrawled in jagged, crimson letters were the words:

A man who craves gold yet turns blind to his master’s torment does not deserve his cursed eyes—not even in the pits of death.

The words hung in the air, suffocating the onlookers with their grim finality. Silas, Rowan, and Layla exchanged tense, stunned looks, the weight of the scene sinking in.

Silas’s heart pounded in his chest as the realisation hit him—whatever forces were at play here, they had just taken another gruesome turn. The crowd, now growing more frantic, began to disperse in fear. But for Silas, Rowan and especially Layla, there was no turning away from the horrifying reality before them.

It seemed likely that the deaths of Duke Vilen Remington and Count Orthel Remington were only the beginning.