An ugly scowl contorted on Lilith's face.
Avelina was a mere human, yet she stood there in her presence with the audacity to look her straight in the eyes.
HUMANS! SUCH INSOLENCE!!! She raised her hand—was it to slap Avelina? No one could tell, but regardless, her actions were stopped by Draven, who grabbed a hold of her wrist.
"Do not lay your hands on my wife, mother!" Draven said, looking windless as ever. Although his tone was calm, his warning was clear.
Lilith looked at him, her eyes suddenly filled with shock. "What?! Wife?!"
Draven let go of her wrist and responded, "Yes, she is my wife, and nobody, whosoever you are, will raise your hand on her in my presence. Not even a single hair on her head will go missing."
"Is this a joke?" Lilith questioned, looking dumbstruck.
"It is only a joke when you consider it to be one," Draven retaliated, appearing very calm.
Lilith fluttered her eyes and once again glanced at Avelina.
A human, as a wife? What was this atrocity? Why would the third prince do such a thing? Why would he marry a human? And did her husband, Lenort, really agree to this?
After a few moments, Lilith looked at Draven.
"Why, Draven? Why would you marry a human? Do you want to bring shame to the royal family? What would the people think if they found out that the third prince married a human?"
"They can think whatever they like, mother. I don't care," Draven shrugged, unfazed.
"What do you mean you don't care? Draven, don't you understand the sort of mess you have just created? You couldn't even marry a well-mannered lady! You instead chose this filthy, undisciplined girl—"
"Mother, please do not insult my wife right in front of me! Disciplined or not, it is none of your business! It is not like you have ever cared about anything concerning me! It makes me wonder why there is such sudden interest. Also, I am not your son! Remember that!" Draven halted her sentence, trying his best to sound calm.
"Mannerless or not, it has nothing to do with you. As long as it's fine with me, I don't care what you, the rest of the family, or the world thinks!"
"What?" Lilith asked, her pupils twitching in dubiety.
Draven half smiled at her in a chilly manner, his eyes filled with coldness.
"You heard me right."
Lilith was confused. "I knew you were insane, Draven, but I didn't think you were this crazy. It hasn't even been up to two years, and you already cast your late wife aside to marry a human girl. I can imagine how Gwen would be rolling in her grave. You are quite the scumbag. Don't you agree with me, son?" she asked.
Draven's cold look changed and deepened even more. He spoke with a serious expression.
"It still doesn't matter. I will do whatever I want, Mother. If possible, stay as far away as you can from my wife."
Lilith was shocked and in disbelief.
"Is this for real? Are you okay, Draven? You are really getting worse and worse. I wonder how far deeper you will dive, son. Hahaha."
She cackled in amusement and turned around, exiting the garden to return to the main royal quarter. It was the biggest quarter in the royal mansion, which belonged to her and the old master, Lenort.
Draven lowered his head and exhaled deeply.
Avelina, who had been quietly watching him all this time, wanted to say something, but she dismissed the idea when Draven turned to look at her.
"Let's play tomorrow. I have somewhere to be," Draven said to her.
Avelina bit her lower lip, unable to bring herself to voice out what she had in mind. All she could do was watch him leave. His shadow seemed somewhat…lonely.
She let out a subtle breath and followed the maids in waiting, to return to her room.
…..
Outside of the royal mansion.
Draven boarded his white BMW 5 Series.
He turned the engine on and drove off onto the road.
With his right hand, he snatched his phone from the pocket of his pants and held control of the car with his left hand.
He dialed a specific number with the name "Loui" and waited patiently as it rang.
A second before it could end, the callee picked up the call.
[Bon après-midi, Don]
"Bon après-midi, Loui," Draven responded. "I saw your message."
[Yes, and I presume you must be on your way, Don]
"Oui. Make sure he does not escape from you," Draven said and hung up the call.
…
Twenty minutes later, Draven approached the sprawling white mansion and slowed down the car.
The bodyguards, standing guard, opened the gate, and he drove his BMW through the archway and into the expensive courtyard.
The mansion itself was a massive structure, with a towering roof and dozens of windows that glinted in the sun.
Draven parked his car in the circular driveway. He made his way to the front white door, which was made of wood. A male bodyguard draped completely in sun-protective clothing stood in front of it.
As the bodyguard pushed the door open, he was immediately enveloped in the scent of expensive cologne. The foyer was dimly lit, with heavy golden drapes covering the windows to block the sunlight. A crystal chandelier cast a glow over the room.
To his left was a grand staircase that led up to the upper levels of the mansion and to his right, was a large living room filled with leather couches and armchairs.
A striking figure, with chiseled features and piercing blue eyes that seemed to glow, was seated across a table in the center of the room.
His legs were crossed, and he was drinking one of the famous French wines 'Pinot Noir.'
His hair was a pale shade of blonde, falling in messy waves around his face and shoulders. His skin was pale and flawless, giving him an otherworldly handsome appearance.
He wore a slim-fitted black leather jacket over a white t-shirt, paired with fitted black jeans and black boots. The jacket was adorned with golden zippers and studs, giving it a bit of an edge.
"Hello, Don." The young man, who was named Loui, stood up from the couch and approached Draven.
"Where is he?" Draven, who was not in for pleasantries, asked.