Valerius stammered, his once-dignified form now reduced to a trembling mess. "J–Jaeson, I—"
"On your knees," Jaeson interrupted softly, stepping closer. His voice held the strange power of command, not loud, not magical, but absolute.The air rippled around him — faint, invisible — the mark of an Esper.
Valerius fell to his knees, sweat trailing down his temple.
"Now," Jaeson continued, placing his polished boot forward. "Lick."
"Wh–What?" Valerius's lips quivered.
"You heard me," said the boy, his eyes sharp as blades. "Or shall I tell father what entertainment you and my mother indulge in when the moon rises?"
The word mother struck harder than a blade. Merisa's defiance flickered — pride fighting guilt. "Jaeson, enough of this—"
He turned to her, and for the first time, she felt the pressure of his unseen power. The walls themselves seemed to lean toward him. Valerius, trembling, bent forward and obeyed — his tongue dragging across the fine leather. Humiliation mixed with tears.
Jaeson smiled faintly, cruel but composed. "Good boy. Now, let's make sure you remember your place."
He raised a finger — and in that instant, the air cracked.A sound like splintering glass tore through the silence.Valerius screamed, clutching between his legs as his flesh met an invisible force — sharp, unrelenting, shattering.
Merisa shrieked, covering her mouth in horror.Jaeson watched, unmoved.
"Let this remind you both," he said, turning to leave, "that loyalty and dignity are worth more than lust. You will both obey me from this day forward — or I will make father see everything you've been hiding."
He left them weeping in the candlelight, the scent of betrayal thick in the air.