This time, Xion didn't open his eyes when the room fell into silence. The weight of that heated gaze still bore down on him.
Talia had departed after issuing a few final instructions, but Caspian was still here.
"I do so wish to keep your face intact," Caspian murmured, and the feather-light touch that followed made bile rise in Xion's throat.
Despite his best efforts, his brow twitched—betraying the discomfort he had hoped to suppress.
"Ah, are you in pain?" Caspian crooned, as if speaking to a cherished pet. "Don't fret, little one. It shan't take long. Once the ceremony is complete, you'll forget everything. I've even prepared a special tonic just for you."
He sighed softly, the kind of sigh that implied profound sentiment—perhaps even devotion. Perhaps in his twisted mind, Caspian truly believed he was offering some sacred kindness.
