The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice - Chapter 57

Chapter 57: Awake: The Royal Palace

“You still left.”

Another silence.

Aeloria, who had remained composed throughout, finally moved closer.

Her slender fingers ghosted over Zareth’s forehead, brushing his hair back in a gesture so painfully tender it made his chest ache.

“You don’t have to explain anything right now,” she murmured, her voice softer than he remembered. “You’re here. That’s what matters.”

Zareth’s lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something.

To argue. To apologize.

But before he could—

His father spoke.

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Zareth.” Elora said.

The words were simple. Steady.

But they cut through the tension like a blade.

Zareth turned his head slightly, looking up at the his father.

His father’s gaze held no disappointment, no expectations—just quiet certainty.

Zareth wanted to believe him.

But he didn’t answer.

Instead, something else surfaced in his mind—something urgent.

His breath hitched.

Ed.

Where was Ed?

His chest tightened as the memories rushed back.

The blood.

The monsters.

Zareth’s eyes widened slightly as he rasped out the only thought racing through his mind—

“Where’s Ed?”

The room fell silent again.

—-

A soft breeze carried the scent of flowers through the open balcony doors, mingling with the warmth of morning sunlight that filtered into the grand chamber.

The golden light painted delicate patterns across the polished marble floor, stretching toward a large bed where a figure stirred beneath silk sheets.

Slowly, Ed fingers twitched.

His breathing changed.

“Ugh”

Then, with a low groan, Ed forced his eyes open.

Blurry at first.

The high ceiling came into focus—ornate, carved with intricate designs that looked nothing like anything he had ever seen before.

Rich, deep blue drapes framed the tall windows, their fabric shifting slightly as the wind played with them.

The bed beneath him was too soft, too luxurious.

Ed mind felt heavy, sluggish, as if weighed down by a fog that refused to clear.

‘Where… am I?’

The thought echoed in his head as he blinked the haze away, slowly pushing himself up.

Ed’s eyes drifted toward the balcony.

Beyond the open doors, a breathtaking view unfolded.

The palace stretched out before him—vast, pristine, and undeniably grand.

Sleek white marble buildings gleamed under the morning sun, their surfaces smooth and reflective.

Towering glass windows framed the structures, their edges adorned with intricate silver inlays that shimmered in the light.

Below, manicured gardens sprawled in perfect symmetry.

Lush greenery wove between fountains of crystal-clear water.

Holographic lanterns floated lazily above the walkways, casting a soft glow despite the daylight.

Everything was pristine.

Controlled. Almost too perfect.

The sight sent a strange sensation through him—one he couldn’t quite place.

A dull familiarity that hovered just out of reach.

He exhaled slowly, letting the sight sink in.

This place… it wasn’t just grand.

It was royal.

A sudden thought struck him.

I think… we’re in a palace.

The realization sent a strange sensation through him.

Unease. Curiosity. A dull sense of familiarity that didn’t quite make sense.

And then—

{Tch. You finally woke up, brat.}

A deep, rough voice filled his mind, carrying that familiar tone of irritation.

Bloodmoon.

His lips twitched, almost instinctively.

“You could’ve woken me up sooner,” he muttered under his breath.

{And deal with your whining? No thanks.} The ancient being scoffed.

{Took you long enough. I was starting to think you’d sleep forever.}

Ed sighed, running a hand through his slightly messy hair.

“Well, excuse me for almost dying,” he said dryly.

Bloodmoon huffed. “Dying? Please. You’re harder to kill than you realize.”

Ed didn’t replied.

Instead, his gaze drifted back to the outside below, unease still curling in his chest.

He had so many questions.

Where exactly was he?

{At elven royal palace}

Why was he here?

{You saved Zareth}

What happened before he blacked out?

{Your treatment}

“I know i am just thinking them unnecessary”

I am in the palace—the place I had wanted from the very start.

And yet, as I sit here, staring at the polished marble floor and the perfect, sterile beauty of my surroundings, something gnaws at me.

An unease that refuses to fade.

I should feel relieved. I should feel safe.

But I don’t.

Then—

Click.

The door handle turned, and the quiet creak of the door echoed in the stillness of the room.

Ed didn’t move immediately.

His body still felt sluggish.

But when he finally lifted his head, his eyes landed on the figure standing in the doorway.

Zareth.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Zareth’s pink hair was unkempt, a rare sight.

His robes, usually immaculate.

There were dark circles under his eyes—subtle, but noticeable.

He looked exhausted.

Without a word, he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

“You look like shit,” he muttered.

A short exhale left Ed’s lips—half a scoff, half a weary laugh.

“You’re not exactly a picture of health either.” Ed said.

Zareth huffed, crossing his arms. “Fair enough.”

A heavy silence followed.

The weight of everything they had just endured hung between them, unspoken yet palpable.

Ed’s gaze dropped to his hands.

They were steady, but a lingering sensation remained—the ghost of exhaustion.

And Zareth—he had been there too.

“Why didn’t you ran away? ” Zareth’s asked his voice was quieter this time.

Ed hesitated.

“I… don’t know,” he admitted.

Zareth studied him for a long moment.

His expression didn’t change, but something in his posture shifted.

Then, finally, he exhaled. “Figures.”

Another pause.

Then—

Click.

The door opened again.

This time, the air itself seemed to change.

Zareth straightened, his usual casual demeanor slipping, his body instinctively adjusting as if preparing for something more formal.

Ed turned his head.

A woman entered.

Her presence alone was enough to shift the atmosphere of the room.

Pink hair cascaded in soft waves past her shoulders, framing a face so composed it seemed almost unreal.

Her lavender eyes, sharp and calculating, flickered briefly toward Zareth before settling on Ed.

She moved with effortless grace, exuding an authority that needed no words.

Even without knowing her name, Ed could feel it—she was someone important. Someone powerful.

And then Zareth broke the silence.

“Mother.”

Ed’s breath stilled.

This was Aeloria.

The Elven Queen.