Free Web NovelChapter 143: Repaying Humiliation
Aveline watched the silver-haired boy stride toward her with that twisted smile still stretched across his face, the kind of expression that made revulsion curl in her stomach.
It was not merely arrogance. It was entitlement.
The sort worn by men who believed the world existed for their amusement.
Her fingers curled slowly at her sides as she planted her feet more firmly into the ground.
"I’d ask you to stop," she said calmly, tilting her head ever so slightly as though this were a perfectly ordinary conversation. freewebnovel.cσ๓
At the same time, her hand lowered subtly toward the ground, toward his shadow.
The sun stood high overhead. Midday light flooded the narrow alleyway, and his shadow remained trapped tightly beneath his feet like a stain inked into the stone.
Perfect.
There would never be a better moment for him to attack her.
And Aveline... For perhaps the first time in her life... Welcomed it.
Because beneath the fear and uncertainty and loneliness that had followed her all these years, there was something else inside her too.
Pride.
Sharp. Burning. Unyielding.
The girl who lowered her head and endured everything quietly had long since been buried beneath the trials and pain she faced all her life.
Of course, the boy did not stop.
Men like him never listened when women warned them politely.
He came closer with lazy confidence, close enough that she could smell the expensive perfume lingering on his robes. His hand stretched toward her without hesitation, exactly where she knew it would.
Toward her chest.
Disgust flashed through her so violently it almost burned.
And in that exact moment, Aveline caught his shadow.
The boy’s eyes widened. He did not even have time to understand what had happened before Aveline’s hand cracked across his face with enough force to snap his head sideways.
The sound echoed sharply through the alley.
Everyone froze.
Then came the second strike.
Not with her hand, but with her knee... Straight between his legs.
The boy made a strangled, horrifying sound as his body folded instantly, collapsing toward the ground while clutching himself in agony.
Aveline did not stop there.
"Oh?" she said coldly as he keeled over. "What happened to all that confidence?"
Another slap landed across his face.
Then another.
And another.
Each strike rang louder than the last while his own shadow pinned him down against the stone, forcing him onto his knees no matter how he struggled.
The other boys stood stunned for half a heartbeat, unable to process what they were seeing.
Their brother... Being beaten senseless by a woman.
Then chaos erupted.
"What the hell—?!"
They lunged toward her all at once.
Aveline moved instinctively.
She stepped aside from the first one and sent an elbow crashing into his jaw. At the same time, shadows twisted beneath another’s feet, making him stumble straight into the wall face-first.
A sharp yelp echoed.
The third boy managed to grab her sleeve, but Aveline turned fast enough to smack him hard across the nose before stomping down on his foot with vicious satisfaction.
"You people," she snapped, breathing hard, "are unbelievably annoying!"
The alley dissolved into complete disorder.
Shouting. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com
Cursing.
More slaps.
One of the boys tried to form lightning again, but Aveline kicked his wrist before the rune could stabilize, making the magic burst uselessly into sparks.
Meanwhile, Aelion remained on his knees where they had left him, bruised lips split slightly, silver hair disheveled and falling messily over his eyes.
At first... He smiled. Actually smiled.
A small, disbelieving thing, as though he could not decide whether what he was witnessing was absurd or wonderful.
Because Aveline fought like someone entirely unfamiliar with proper technique yet terrifyingly effective regardless. She hid her abilities carefully, never once making it obvious she was controlling the shadows beneath them, instead making the boys appear clumsy, off-balance, stupid.
And somehow... It worked.
But slowly, Aelion’s smile faded.
Because the more he watched her, the more serious his expression became.
Aveline was not simply defending herself.
She was furious.
Every slap carried years of humiliation. Every shove carried buried fear. Every strike carried the rage of someone who had once been too powerless to fight back.
And now that she finally could...
She refused to let anyone make her feel small again.
The last boy hit the ground with a groan.
Silence followed.
Heavy breathing filled the alleyway while four noble sons lay sprawled across the stone in varying states of humiliation and pain.
Aveline stood in the middle of them, chest rising and falling quickly.
Then, very calmly, she dusted her hands together as though she had merely finished cleaning dirt off them.
"There," she said with satisfaction. "Much better."
Of course, Aelion was not the only one watching.
High above the alleyway, concealed among the shadows of the rooftop, Theron let out a low chuckle as he watched the aftermath below.
"She didn’t need help after all..." he murmured.
There was amusement in his voice, but something else lingered beneath it too—something softer. Something dangerously close to admiration.
Kael slowly turned toward him, brows furrowing.
Was his liege... smiling?
The expression was faint, barely there, but Kael knew Theron well enough to recognize how rare it was. Especially lately. Especially after the strange emptiness that had settled over him these past days, like a wound no physician could find yet no medicine could heal.
And yet now, watching that girl stand triumphantly over four battered noble boys while dusting off her hands...
The Crown Prince had smiled.
Still, Kael’s unease remained.
Because no matter how he looked at it, something about that girl felt wrong in a way he could not explain. Not wrong as in evil. No... it was stranger than that. Elusive. Like trying to grasp smoke with bare hands.
He had watched her movements carefully. The boys had fallen too easily and too awkwardly, as though the world itself had tilted against them.
Kael narrowed his eyes slightly.
There was something about her he could not quite pin down, and that uncertainty unsettled him more than outright danger ever could.
Before he could dwell on it longer, however, a portal flared softly beside his wrist.
A message.
Kael glanced down immediately, expression tightening as he read the words embedded in the light.
His father.
And judging by the sharpness of the message, the Spymaster was furious that Kael had gone to the Arcanum without authorization. Worse still, the King was apparently searching for the Crown Prince.
They were being summoned back immediately.
That was not suspicious at all.
Kael suppressed a sigh and quickly sent a brief reply before turning toward Theron again. Even through all this, his liege had not moved. Theron still stood near the edge of the rooftop, gaze lowered toward the alley below.
The smile had faded from his lips now, but something gentler remained in his eyes. A strange softness Kael had not seen directed at anyone in a very long time.
"Sire," Kael said carefully, "His Majesty is summoning us."
"Hmm."
Theron acknowledged him absently.
But he still did not move.
Kael followed his gaze downward.
And then... He blinked.
Wait.
From this angle, it looked as though...
His eyes widened slightly.
Down below, Aveline had been backed against the stone wall while Aelion leaned over her, one arm braced near her shoulder as he spoke close to her face.
From here... It looked exactly like a kiss.
Kael slowly turned his head toward Theron. Very slowly.
And the softness in the Crown Prince’s eyes was gone. Completely gone. What replaced it made even Kael instinctively stiffen.
Theron’s jaw had locked so tightly that the muscles beneath his skin visibly flexed. His gaze remained fixed below with frightening intensity, dark eyes sharpening into something cold enough to cut.
The air around him shifted, enough for the wind atop the rooftop to suddenly still.
Enough for Kael to feel the dangerous pressure curling silently around his liege like restrained lightning waiting for permission to strike.
Theron did not even seem aware of it himself.
He only stared downward at the sight below, something dark and irrational twisting violently inside his chest.
Aelion’s hand near her face... The closeness between them...
Every second of it scraped against him in a way that made no sense.
His fingers curled slowly into a fist.
