Chapter 14: Chapter 14 — The Kind-Hearted Little Miss Would Never Stand By and Watch

Among the blood clans, baring one’s fangs was a gesture of challenge—a silent declaration of impending battle, brimming with provocation and threat.

Yet Xavier neither seemed to notice nor deigned to acknowledge the audacity of a fledgling’s defiance. He merely gestured for the two of them to approach.

“Your wings have grown?”

Setting aside the paperwork in his hands, Xavier lifted Chloe into his arms. This time, she did not resist. Instead, she straightened her spine like a proud peacock displaying its plumage, tugging at her clothes to make the two small bumps on her back more pronounced.

Perhaps her mind had been affected as well, for how else could she be so elated—over two tiny swellings? The smile tugging at her lips nearly reached her ears.

Xavier raised her shirt and inspected her back. The two protrusions were indeed the beginnings of wings—still small, but the structure was already distinct. Healthy, flawless, and, judging by their hue, destined to become a magnificent pair.

“Impressive,” Xavier murmured, a rare note of praise in his voice.

Few blood-born children manifested wings at such an early age. Even he had not developed his until after his seventh year.

Chloe curled her lips. “Tch. As if I didn’t know.”

Did she not already know how brilliant she was? Across the entire bloodline, few could rival Chloe’s talent.

“Since your wings have begun to form, your inner power will surely grow stronger with time,” Xavier said as he adjusted her clothes. “But memorizing the basic incantations isn’t enough—you must be able to wield them flawlessly.”

Chloe puffed out her chest. “Easy.”

His lips curved faintly. “I hope so.”

“I’ll assign you an instructor. From now on, your spell lessons will be handled by them,” he continued, setting her down. “Now, off you go. Don’t disturb my work.”

As if she ever wanted to. Chloe skipped toward Corvin, tugging on his trouser leg as she led him out.

Once wings began to sprout, they would grow steadily over time. Within days, Chloe’s had unfurled completely.

Though still small, they were—just as Xavier predicted—strikingly beautiful. Their dark crimson sheen and perfect symmetry promised power and grace.

From that day forth, Chloe seldom bothered to conceal them, strutting about the manor with her wings proudly spread.

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She even contemplated flaunting them at kindergarten, but Corvin firmly forbade it. A fledgling’s wings could easily wound another.

Thwarted, Chloe’s disdain for kindergarten only deepened.

Now, whenever she had a free moment, she wandered through the estate, showing off her wings to anyone who would look. The servants, well-versed in the ways of young mistresses, showered her with exaggerated praise.

“My heavens, I’ve never seen such splendid wings!”

“What a marvelous color—deep crimson with glinting tips!”

“To think our young lady could grow such wings at her age—remarkable!”

Each time, Chloe lifted her chin, nodded with feigned modesty, and sauntered away, thoroughly satisfied.

One afternoon, during her usual stroll through the gardens, a faint rustle caught her ear. Someone was there.

She followed the sound and parted the rose bushes—only to find a familiar figure crouched within.

“Anderson?” she frowned. “Why is it every time I see you, you look half-dead?”

Indeed, he was in a pitiful state. The manor’s roses were untamed, their thorns sharp and unrelenting. The boy’s face and arms were laced with cuts, one deep gash above his eyelid bleeding freely.

He looked frightening—but his gaze remained calm, even as Chloe’s shadow fell over him.

Her mild scolding drew no reaction. His hands merely clenched tighter.

With a sigh, Chloe fished a small tube of ointment from her pocket and began dabbing it over his wounds.

“Anyone who saw you like this would think I brought you home just to torment you,” she muttered.

Anderson’s eyes flickered faintly. He had hidden here on purpose. The training of the deathguards was brutal—survival often owed more to luck than to skill. When their instructor gave the order, the trainees were to “spar,” though the word was a cruel lie; what followed was mutual slaughter.

Today’s exercise was in pairs, but no one wished to team with a five-year-old. He became the target of their assault. Anticipating this, Anderson had studied Chloe’s movements through the manor and chosen this place to hide—betting that the young mistress would not let him die.

And his gamble had paid off.

As the cooling balm soothed his skin, a ghost of a smile touched his lips.

Chloe capped the ointment and shoved it into his hand. “Keep it. You reek.”

That stench—she’d smelled it before, on Corvin. And she’d never liked it.

Anderson was silent for a while, then whispered, “Thank you.”

Chloe frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing servant work in the manor? How did you end up like this?”

He opened his mouth, then fell silent again.

“Someone bullied you?” she asked, tilting her head.

His green eyes flickered with fragile hesitation.

“I see.” Chloe rose to her feet just as the sound of approaching footsteps reached her ears.

Two older boys, around seventeen or eighteen, emerged from the trees, crude wooden clubs in hand.

They froze at the sight of her. Every deathguard-in-training was required to memorize the faces of the royal heirs—and they recognized her instantly.

Anderson, seated behind Chloe, met their gaze coolly, lips curved in faint mockery. The instructors had forbidden them from revealing the existence of the deathguard corps to the young miss—by Xavier’s explicit decree.

Sure enough, the moment they recognized her, the two boys turned pale and fled.

Chloe hadn’t even had the chance to act.

“How boring,” she muttered. “Those cowards did this to you?”

Anderson lowered his eyes.

“Pathetic,” she said flatly.

Then, rummaging through her pockets again, she produced several more tubes of ointment—gifts from Corvin, who feared she might get hurt.

Chloe pressed them into his hands.

“Since I brought you here, I’ll take responsibility. Keep these. When they’re gone, come find me for more.”