The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate-Chapter 115: New Weapon

Neville glanced at them, a flicker of confusion crossing his otherwise weary face. However, he knew this was his signal to grant the couple’s some privacy.

Without a word, he retreated to the far side of the room, busying himself with making the poison, though the tension in the air was palpable.

Esme still clung to Donovan in his arms, her heart racing as she absorbed the moment, his own heartbeat drumming steadily. The sound of his voice eventually broke the tension.

"Are you alright?"

His gentle words startled her, snapping her out of her momentary daze. She quickly pulled from his embrace, realizing a little too late that she had been holding him, lost in the rush of her own emotions. She took a step back to look at him, and the fact that he was fine despite enduring all that torture was a little hard to take in.

Could he ever truly seek peace with the very people who had stoned and trampled him? The ones who made him take the life of his own mother and force him to give in to his curse? The same people who made a book about his crimes and fabricated the entire truth with lies?

She wanted to ask him this, to know his future plans, but then something deep within her told her she wasn’t prepared for his answer.

Blinking back her tears, she quickly wiped her face, struggling to regain composure.

"Did you overwork yourself?" Donovan asked gently, his voice laced with concern as his hands cupped her face, but she had wiped her tears away already. Esme shook her head, unable to bring herself to tell him. She didn’t want to burden him with her feelings, so she quickly crafted an excuse.

"I just... got a little emotional and needed a hug," she replied, taking his hand from her face and trying to sound casual. "You wouldn’t understand; it’s a woman thing."

"Oh." He looked genuinely perplexed. "Are you sure it’s nothing serious? Is it the stress? If you’re tired you can go to your chamber and get some quality rest. It’s fine if you can’t make enough. Everyone will manage and make do with what they have."

"I’m really fine," Esme insisted with a smile, the weight in her heart loosening. "But enough about me, why are you here?"

"Right, yes..." Donovan murmured, scratching his head as if to remember his reason for coming here. He suddenly opened his hand, and an object wrapped in silk materialized in his palm.

"I stopped by one of the blacksmith shops and got you this," he said. Esme blinked in confusion as her gaze fell on the object that was neatly wrapped with silk.

"Is this for me?" she asked for a second confirmation, her voice carrying genuine surprise as her eyes lingered on it. For a moment, she hesitated, but then her hand slowly reached out, her fingers brushing lightly brushing against his as she accepted his gift.

There was a brief pause, as she thoughtfully considered opening his gift or not, but in the end, she was curious to see what he had gotten her. Carefully, she unraveled the silk, only to uncover a strange and mesmerizing short sword.

Unlike any other blades she had seen, this one wasn’t forged from gleaming steel. Instead, its segments were adorned with soft, petal-like edges as though it had been crafted from flowers.

The upper part revealed a metallic sheen that contrasted with the fragile beauty of the petal-like structure, blending it all into a perfect, harmonious design.

It didn’t appear dangerous at all – rather, it was stunningly beautiful, more akin to a work of art than a weapon.

Esme’s eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, "What is this?" She asked, examining the delicate weapon in her grip. It was a short sword crafted from petals, or at least it appeared to be one.

"It looks harmless." she added, and he regarded her observation with a sly smirk.

"That’s because it is, for now," he replied, keeping his tone neutral. "Weapons can be deceptive as well, Esme, and this one is no different. We’ll be leaving for the North at noon, and this was a weapon I considered would be more fitting for you."

"What does it do then?" Esme furrowed her brow as she continued to observe the object. It looked more like a bouquet than a weapon to her.

"What you’re holding is not a short sword," he said, and Esme couldn’t help but agree.

"The blades are made from petals, they won’t slice through anything." she tested it, slicing it through the air. "Except for the tip but that can’t possibly be the only area of attack, no?" She continued to scrutinize the beautiful, fragile things, trying to decipher why Donovan would give her a sword made from flowers.

"The shape you see is merely a façade," he took a step closer as he explained. "It may come off as a sword, but that’s not its true identity. The intriguing part lies in discovering what it really is. I barely even know its true form yet. It needs to be activated somehow, and once you do, you’ll be able to describe its true appearance to me."

Esme blinked in disbelief, "How am I supposed to activate it?" The idea that he thinks someone like her can awaken the potential of this seemingly innocuous short sword forged from petals felt absurd.

"It’s known as the blood petal," he said. "I was told it derived its name from the color of its petals."

"But the petals are white," Esme pointed out, a flicker of doubt creeping into her mind. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been deceived into purchasing something entirely different, but when his lips curled into a subtle smirk, Esme sensed he was concealing more than he let on.

She was sure he wasn’t foolish enough to be misled.

"If you’re curious, do your own research and enlighten me," he said turning around to take his leave. "I’m quite interested in knowing it’s true form once you’ve figured it out."

"Wait, but—" and he was gone, the door closing behind him.

Esme held the weapon by the hilt. What did he mean it wasn’t an actual sword? He got her something and yet it felt more like he was testing her rather than presenting her with a genuine offering.

What is he playing at now?

Esme approached Neville, showing him the peculiar sword she held. "Have you ever seen anything like this?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Hm?" Neville’s focus shifted from his work to the unusual weapon she presented before him. "No, but where did you find this?"

"Donovan gave it to me, he said it’s called the blood petal," Esme explained before going further to admire the petal’s intricate design. "Whether it’s a weapon or not, I can’t help but appreciate how beautiful it is. I almost feel like I should water it, as if it were a plant. I think the petals are real."

She felt the texture, careful not to pull it off and ruin such an amazing work of art.

Neville couldn’t help but be suspicious of the flowery sword, and the man that gave it to her. "I think you should be more careful with that. Did he say it was deceptive?"

Esme nodded earnestly. "He did."

"Then you have to be more cautious. It’s called a deceptive weapon for a reason. You shouldn’t toss it around so you don’t end up hurting yourself."

"He wouldn’t try to harm me," Esme said with assurance, knowing Donovan wouldn’t give her a weapon that would cause her much harm. "And I have no intention of activating anything."

With a thoughtful sigh, she dropped the blade down carefully, joining Neville as they prepared the remaining items for the journey. By the time noon arrived, everything was set in place, and they were ready to set off.