Heart Over Sword-Chapter 275: Power (1)

It took days to gain entry into the Lyvarian palace. The guards would not allow him entry, especially with how he looked. Ger ended up returning to the mountain where the tunnels were and followed his intuition and heightened hearing. This ’curse’ granted him such powers that he didn’t fear anything.

Ger had yet to test this shifting ability, but right now, his focus was on finding Evanna and the gang. Waltzing through the tunnels was easy. The darkness held no effect on him; he could see as clearly as if daylight shone through the passages. Once he discovered the palace doors heavily guarded, he breezed through the guards like they were mere ants, knocking them all unconscious.

He fought them in less than ten seconds. Not nearly enough time for anyone to send out a signal. Now here he was, removing his arms from around Evanna. It all felt like a dream until Evanna jumped into his arms. The moment Ger hugged her back, he realised he was breathing, living, with this curse and new abilities. It was all real.

"Your eye..." Evanna trailed off. Unaware of the change in his eyes, Ger frowned.

"Evanna, get away from him," Garrett growled, stepping closer to them.

"Why?" Evanna asked, confused by his aggressive stance. Sure, this was absolutely unbelievable that Ger was with them once more, but she didn’t like the way Garrett was watching him.

Garrett didn’t answer as he lunged for Ger. In a blur, Ger gently pushed Evanna away and grabbed Garrett’s hand before the dagger in his hand could make contact with him; with a swift twist, it dropped to the floor, and he kicked it away. Still holding Garrett’s hand, and with a crushing force, Ger slowly twisted his wrist, and Garrett, the gigantic warrior, lowered to his knees, trembling, watching Ger furiously.

"Stop," Evanna ordered. Ger was so focused on Garrett he didn’t notice the shocked expressions of so many elves in this fancy magical ballroom. Yet Evanna’s voice pulled his gaze away and focused on her.

His brows furrowed upon seeing the princess rise to her feet, brushing down her dress, Arawn assisting her and glaring at him. Did he do that? Ger released Garrett and stared at his hand. He thought he pushed Evanna gently.

Garrett tried to swing at Ger again, but he dodged it and rolled his eyes, punching him in the gut and stared wide-eyed as he slid along the floor.

"As entertaining as this is. What is going on here?" An elf, one seeming superior to others, stepped away from a throne, the woman in his lap sliding to the floor at the throne’s feet.

This must be the king. A king with wings? Fae?

Before Ger could respond, Evanna stepped forwards, blocking Ger from King Nuvian. "This is Ger. One of my guards. We thought we’d lost him the day before our arrival-"

"Lost?" King Nuvian interrupted. "In the snowy wilderness?" He cast a glance outside, his tone unconvinced by her words. "Why is the prince’s second trying to fight your guard?"

Evanna followed his gaze. "I would like to know that as well." She turned back to the king and queen and curtsied the Lyvarian style. "I apologise for the disruption of such a splendid evening. We will take this to our rooms before tomorrow-"

"Nonsense. This is your engagement party. Come. Drink and dance with us, Princess Evanna and Prince Arawn. You are leaving tomorrow, so let us be merry tonight, wishing you well," King Nuvian objected with a broad grin, toasting his glass to the couple.

Evanna’s smile cracked slightly. Refraining from sighing, she looked over her shoulder. "Axel, Ronan... Take Ger to your rooms," Evanna ordered softly. She couldn’t deny the king’s wishes even though they had the gem; she had to keep her grandparents happy until they left. She only hoped it wouldn’t be all night.

The journey was going to be abysmal.

Axel bowed his head before grabbing Ronan by the arm and dragging him forwards. Ronan was still watching wide-eyed at Ger’s return. Axel and Ronan stood on either side of Ger protectively and started leading him out of the great hall. Ger glanced over his shoulder at the grandeur of the hall, the outfits, the people, and lastly, Evanna beside Arawn. The king’s words returned to him.

This was Evanna’s engagement party. The heartache he had felt only days before had dwindled. Did dying and returning as this cursed Dragonkin cause his perspective to change? Evanna was no doubt an important woman in his life, his best friend but the burning rage, the jealousy he felt had subsided.

Passing down the long enchanted hallways, Ger couldn’t help but tilt his head to the side at the dragon shadow flying across the walls. He ignored the stares from others and followed where his friends were taking him.

"Here. You can share it with me. Ronan has been a little..." Axel side-eyed Ronan, trailing off as he gave a disapproving scowl. Unlike his usual chirpy, arrogant self, Ger noticed Ronan’s quiet behaviour; he did not even mockingly act hurt at Axel’s silent insult.

Once inside the rooms, Ger glanced at the luxurious room only to turn around, hearing movement from behind him, and was pushed back after Axel embraced him tightly. "I bet you have some story to tell, lad," Axel said, his eyes misty, voice thick with emotion.

Ger pulled back and clasped his shoulder before Ronan followed in Axel’s movements and hugged him. "If you do that again, man. If you die on me... I’ll kill you myself!"

Dramatic, as always. Ger chuckled and nodded, replying, "I’ll allow it."

"I wasn’t asking," Ronan grunted.

They pulled apart, and Ronan glanced at his clothes. "You stink. Bathe, and one of the servants can get you some new clothes in the meantime."

"The servants?" Ger glanced at Ronan, smirking, amusement glittering in his eyes. "You adapted well to this lifestyle, I see."

"You have no idea," Axel remarked and pushed Ger towards the water closet. "Go, and tell us everything after."

Ger strolled towards the water closet and sighed, finally seeing his reflection in a mirror and noting his reptilian-like right eye. Lowering his gaze, he noted a few white scales on the left side of his ribs.

"There’s not much to tell you, really."

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