It had been a day since Elias Jerome Evangelion arrived at the Nexus academy's city.
Naturally his status as a prince granted him some perks, one exclusive to royalty alone and among them were free lodgings in the most luxurious hostelry Merelyn Street had to offer.
At least one good thing happened to him for once.
Ever since he heard the news about the decision his father made with Azazel Von Astavore, every nerve in his body seemed alert, like they were anticipating the kind of horror that devil's spawn was brewing for him.
He couldn't even sleep in peace, no… that red haired bastard still haunted his dreams.
His thoughts wandered back to the night of the bouquet, the royal ball his father the king had hosted.
Recalling the events, he couldn't help but frown.
'What kind of eyes was that?' He pondered silently.
He'd heard rumors that the eldest son of house Astavore was a lout, a hot headed, impulsive bastard who often thought with his fists rather than his brains.
But something about his eyes that night unsettled him.
The night where Azazel had viciously pummeled him, Elias managed to get a glimpse of Azazel's expression and what he saw wasn't what he'd expected.
He'd expected a trace of dark satisfaction or at the very least, anger, but what he saw in Azazel's eyes that night was sorrow.
Not just sorrow, but fatigue, acceptance and a carefully concealed resentment.
It was the gaze of someone who'd stopped having expectations for life, someone who wanted nothing more than to rest.
And he couldn't help but wonder, just what had caused Azazel to look at him with such eyes.
It wasn't just Azazel but his elder sister Veyre as well.
Ever so often he'd witness the quiet sorrow she withheld from the rest of the family.
Her eyes… They spoke volumes of untold dangers, heavy with burden no one was meant to learn, that was the price she had to pay for being a messenger of the sun, a seer of Amun Rá.
She could only speak what the god wanted her to, the rest of her visions however weren't meant to be heard by others.
Elias knew the burden she carried, and he wanted to help her somehow.
Among all his siblings she was the only one who didn't look at him like a failure.
Being the only member of the royal family who couldn't awaken due to his frail body, Elias had often been the subject of his siblings ire.
To them he was a stain, a defective human who had nothing to offer besides being a stress reliever to bear the brunt of their frustrations.
But she never once treated him that way.
To him, she was his sun.
The only source of light he had in his life besides his mother the queen, he never wished to see a day where she'd have the same lifeless look Azazel had on his face that night.
Yet he could only hope.
Can a fragile hand, trembling under the strain of its own weight, hope to hold a priceless vase?
He couldn't preserve her smile, not with the way he was, not with how weak he was.
Elias stared at the mirror, catching his reflection on its pale surface.
Short blonde hair with clear blue eyes stared back at him.
His structure was thin, almost sickly.
His milky white skin had a pale hue to it but he was undeniably attractive.
He shook his head with a sigh then proceeded to ransack his wardrobe.
Since there was no sign of Azazel anywhere he figured he'd take the time to enjoy himself a bit.
In all honesty, he was actually glad Azazel was nowhere to be found, the last thing he needed was an abusive ducal spawn to ruin his day.
After wearing a casual tunic with free pants, he took a glance at his apartment, memorizing the exact position he'd kept his things in case someone dared to trespass into his room.
A pointless precaution but one he deemed necessary.
I mean, If he couldn't brawl with a weakling his age then how was he supposed to fare against a seasoned thief?
Well in the end he could only pray such a scenario doesn't become a reality.
Leaving the hostelry wasn't a big deal, he just had to inform them where he was headed to, the particular landmarks and fill out some paperwork.
He did so without an issue, limiting the range of his tour to Merelyn Street, Brookmans Avenue and Valectis, the neighboring streets meant for nobles.
Among them, Valectis was the second most preferred option for nobility of the highest order besides the royal family, which meant that it was a street filled with the children of ducal families.
Elias didn't risk it, going that way meant running into that bastard and running into that bastard Azazel was the worst kind of torture anyone could ever ask for.
Instead he headed over to an ice cream shop.
From what he'd heard, they were the best in the area, second to none in fact.
Surely they had delicacies of different varieties he could find some semblance of enjoyment in, even though he wasn't really a fan of sweet desserts, the sun was scorching hot enough to make him crave some ice cream.
He joined the line.
A blend of flavor filled the air instantly soothing his nerves. The aroma of vanilla and strawberry could be scented from any angle of the store.
He could have easily bypassed the line using his status as a royal to acquire special treatments but it didn't seem fair to him.
After a while it was finally his turn.
He slid one silver coin across the counter then pointed towards a milky white cream behind the transparent glass.
"One vanilla flavored ice, please."
The cashier's eyes widened in surprise.
"S-Sir… this… this is too much." she protested.
Indeed it was, a silver coin could buy him a month's worth of ice cream and still have some change to spare.
Elias smiled sheepishly.
"Well I don't have a smaller amount, don't bother about it though it's a tip for you." He assured her. "May I get my ice cream now?"
"Ah… O-Of course, thank you kind sir." She replied with gratitude, her eyes practically beaming in delight.
The scoop reached for the ice, filling the cone to the brim and beyond.
Elias received his ice cream then left the store shortly after.
Boots clicked against the cobblestone as he headed back for his temporary residence, with the heat pressing against his skin, he had to end his little tour abruptly. It was a bit too much for him, who was born with a frail constitution.
But the moment he entered Merelyn Street a voice crept up on him.
"Must be nice huh, having all that ice cream to yourself while I was searching for you in this infuriating heat."
The shadow of a person fell on Elias, startling him to a degree which made his heart skip a beat.
A hand grabbed a hold of his recently acquired ice cream then emptied the contents to the floor below.
It splattered across the cold floor, melting instantly the moment it made contact.
"Ah, much better." The voice spoke again, this time with satisfaction.
Elias stared at the empty cone, then slowly turned his head sideways.
There was only one person who was infuriating enough to try something so bold to a royal, a certain psychotic redhead.
Veins bulged on Elias's face, eyes burning with hate as he growled, his voice laced with rage.
His hands tightened around the cone crushing it immediately with a snap.
"A…A… Azazel you bastard!!!"