~Olyon~
The other two princes just glare at Froskarn, and he huffs before leaving the kitchen.
Maybe he’s going to finally withdraw his power from wreaking icy havoc outside.
Mort tips his head as he gets lost in thought. “But if Bethany is so anti-Noble-”
A nearby surge of subconscious terror pierces through Velthra and makes it into the mortal plane, making me tense.
Sensing such a powerful nightmare would normally have my mouth watering, but my appetite twists when the aura saturating the terror is unmistakably Bethany’s.
I’ve been desperate to taste her dreams since the moment I laid eyes on her. Now, no dreamblocker is keeping me from sensing her like this. Must be an oversight from Mort, the articulate perfectionist.
To my luck, whatever nightmare is playing in Bethany’s head,
