Peter's blood did not go through the chalice and Veandra found it so confusing. Peter just smiled while looking at the chalice then looked at her eyes.
“You consider me as a king?” he asked as he chuckled.
“Of course, I do,” she whispered while looking to the side and feeling embarrassed. “You are my King. It does not matter if you do not have a kingdom.”
“Then I will fill it for you.”
“Okay.”
He pulled out a knife from his belt and she held the chalice for him while she looked away. She cannot bear to see him severing his wrist in front of her.
As he was about to slice his wrist, Armanthe said, “Before you do it, Peter, we want to let you know that when you fill it full with your blood, it'll take all of your soul and blood then you'll die. Say your last words to each other.”
“It
