The Devil's Cursed Witch novel Chapter 47

“The others must have forgiven you but I can’t and I won’t,” Morpheus said as he took a step towards Draven, his sharp eyes glaring straight into his emotionless-looking eyes.

“I never sought your forgiveness. Don’t be mistaken,” Draven said, not willing to show even an ounce of remorse.

Morpheus dryly chuckled. “As expected of you, Almighty Draven.”

“If you are done crying over the past, leave my palace. I don’t have time to accompany you in your tears.”

Not feeling affected by it, Morpheus walked around Draven with a steady gait.

“I am not fond of seeing crocodile tears myself,” he said and then went for the real reason why he came. “I am here to give you advice.”

“I don’t need any,” Draven replied.

“You might need it when it comes to that human.” Morpheus stopped walking as he stood exactly in front of Draven. “That human, you care so much about her, don’t you?”

Draven guessed something. “Seems like you can’t get rid of your habit of spying.”

Morpheus didn’t deny it, as he had witnessed the King’s strange actions for the past couple of nights. “When eagles fly high in the sky, their eyes miss nothing.”

Draven crossed his arms in front of his chest without a word, but his red eyes glittered dangerously.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Almighty One? Are you bothered that these bird’s eyes have caught something it shouldn’t?”

Morpheus moved with a sly grin towards the large armchair on one side of the chamber, acting as if he’s the owner of the place and comfortably sat on it. Draven merely followed his movements with his eyes.

“Saving her when she fell off the cliff, bringing her back home, treating her injury, secretly sneaking inside her home…so generous, aren’t we, our King Draven who can do no wrong?”

The next moment, all the sharp pieces of broken mirror on the floor floated in the air, their tips pointed towards the shapeshifter’s head, some even already pricking his neck.

Draven’s slow yet dignified voice reached his ears. “Do you plan to personally experience that generosity?”

Despite successfully provoking the King, Morpheus chuckled with no fear in his eyes. “You dare not. If you wanted to kill me, you would not have waited till now.” He touched one of the floating shards scratching his neck and easily moved it away with his finger.

Draven sighed, and all of a sudden, the broken fragments crashed back towards the floor. “What do you want?”

“I told you I am here to suggest something to you,” Morpheus replied as a grin filled with contempt spread across his face.

“Say it and leave,” Draven warned coldly.

Morpheus knew no matter how ill-tempered Draven was on the outside, he would not hurt anyone without a reason. Draven was known as a heartless king because he was cruel to his enemies, but he was a sword that would never point his blade at the people of Agartha. That was also the reason why despite not understanding some of his decisions, many of the elders of the races chose to trust him.

The tension inside the chamber melted at the sound of a knock on the door. Draven knew who it was as he could sense his personal servant’s presence beyond it. Before the elf could announce himself, the door opened as Draven permitted Erlos to enter the room.

Erlos was about to say something when he saw the mess on the carpeted floor with trembling eyes. He looked like a wronged wife about to scream in frustration at her drunk husband. When Erlos lifted his head, he glared at someone familiar standing inside who he knew was the culprit.

“Do I have to clean up after your mess every single time, Sire? Next time, please fight in the garden, or the field or the training grounds—”

“Blame him,” Draven said, taking his hands out of this trouble. The only thing he did this time was dodge. He was truly innocent.

“It happened like that,” Morpheus said as he didn’t look regretful.

The frown lines on his forehead deepened the more Erlos looked at the floor. He could not help but mutter under his breath, “I really don’t like this eagle.”

“My servant says he doesn’t like you,” Draven smirked and even before Morpheus could say a word, his body was thrown out of the window, at the speed that he looked like a dot by the time Erlos looked outside the window.

“Uhm, Sire, will this be alright?” Erlos looked at Draven in disbelief, but he could not deny he found it funny that such a strong warrior was being thrown out like a little kid.

“Didn’t you just say you don’t like that birdbrain?” Draven replied, a wicked smirk on his lips.

“Serves him right—wait, Sire, let me correct you. I did not call him a birdbrain! It’s you who called him that!” Erlos complained with a smile, knowing his master’s dark mood was brightened up by that small act.