His Majesty's Devious Sin

Three years later.

"Have you seen Mr. Weston today?"

"Oh, yes! His skin seems to be glowing today as well. It looks like he's gained muscle too."

"Yes, yes! Last time Ms. Stella saw him break the practice dummy with a single hit of his hand."

"I wonder what led to such a powerful development…"

As usual, the maids were gossiping amongst themselves whilst doing their chores for the day. They couldn't help the topic that always drifted to Weston, who despite his gloomy stare, was still praised by many women here. Though, they were curious if he was drinking more blood than usual, for his strength seemed to have multiplied. No one knew why, except a selected few.

"And last time, I saw—"

"Hush!"

The maids quickly clamped their mouths shut when the man himself walked past the hallways. Everyone stole a glimpse in his direction, a few daydreamers sighing, wishing he could belong to them.

Weston was glancing down at his iPad, making sure the plans for tonight were set up exactly how he wanted. He expected no less than perfection. Despite being concentrated in his task, he did hear what the women were saying about him.

It was no surprise. After embracing Lydia for so long, whether it was through physical affection or making love, his body felt stronger than ever. The realization alone solidified the fact that Lydia Claymore was the Golden Rose. There was no other explanation for his unusual strength.

"Brother!" Easton chirped, skipping down the hallways and swinging an arm around Weston. He peered over Weston's shoulder, curious to what was so engrossing about the tablet.

"Oh, is this—"

"Shut up," Weston muttered, double-checking the to-do list. He triple-checked it too, despite knowing everything was already in plan.

"Before you do it," Easton slowly said. "Aren't you curious who took Lydia's virginity?"

Weston came to a screeching halt. His head snapped up and he sent a scathy glower towards his brother. 

"What does my girlfriend's virginity have anything to do with you?" Weston growled, angrily shrugging his brother's arm off of him. He ought to bend that arm in half for the disrespect.

Easton raised two hands in defeat. "No, I'm just talking about the prophecy!"

Weston narrowed his eyes. The prophecy, how could he forget it?

Whoever embraced the Golden Rose will gain a sudden burst of strength, those that consume her blood will become the strongest in the world, and whoever deflowered her will be granted immortality. Some even said her grounded bones could fertilize the most barren of land. 

"Whoever deflowers the Golden Rose will be granted immortality, and since she's obviously not a virgin prior to meeting you, aren't you curious about the immortal?" Easton inquired, innocently blinking when his brother's face turned dark and gloomy.

That was a great question. 

"It's none of your concern," Weston spat out. "Why don't you worry about Minerva's new girlfriend?"

Easton winced, clutching his heart in pain. "I've moved on, I told you! Do you have to bring her up every time to mortally wound me like this?!"

"Doesn't seem like you've moved on if you're acting like this," Weston muttered. He continued walking, highly engrossed by whatever was on the tablet. But now, his mind was drifting to the prophecy again.

If there was an immortal walking around in this world… It'd be dangerous. They'd outlive the King, and who knows? They could even try to go for the throne, for they could not be killed.

"You know, there has been a Golden Rose in the past," Easton slowly said. "Whoever took her virginity must also be an Immortal. We just don't know about them."

Weston calmly raised his head from the tablet. "It's none of our concern. There hasn't been a threat yet. If they're smart, they'd lie low. We'd imprison the immortals if we need to and torture them to insanity like how we did to Lydia's foolish bodyguard."

Easton blinked. "Foolish bodyguard? You mean that Hybrid? I heard there was a large population of werewolves found—wait."

Easton paused. "Don't tell me you're jealous of that Hybrid, brother! You've been dating for three years and now and you plan to—"

"Have you seen how handsome I am?" Weston scoffed, rolling his eyes at how stupid his brohter was. 

"Of course I have, we look the same," Easton mused, wondering if his brother had lost brain cells.

"When a man looks as good as this, there is no other competition," Weston gestured to his face, before returning to the important matters at hand. He was planning on meeting Lydia in less than a few hours for their date. Every stone was falling into place.

"Uncle Weston!" A voice happily cried out, followed by the thudding of tiny footsteps.

Weston shoved the tablet into Easton's hand, surprising his older brother. Instantly, he reached his arms out, his lips splitting into a large grin. The little bundle of joy burst into his arms, giggling when Weston swung him around.

"There's the little Prince," Weston delightfully said, his eyes crinkling at how big Elios had gotten. He was only three years old, but he had the genes of a Pure-Blood running through him. Mentally and physically, he looked five or six years old.

"You look more and more like your mother," Weston chuckled, pushing Elios's dark blond hair aside. It was light when he was born, but had gotten darker throughout the years. The King's genes were showing in Elios's development, but both of the children's features resembled the Queen.

"And you, little Princess, aren't you going to run into my arms?" Weston teased the little girl sullenly walking in the distance. She wore a blank expression on her face, making her seem eerily similar to her father. 

It was ironic, and the King always complained about it. Little Adelia had her father's personality, and Little Elios had her mother's personality. Weston and Easton always had a field day when they realized that.

"Papa said running is a waste of energy when vampires can just speedwalk," Adelia slowly said, her voice low and sweet, but with an edge of mischief. Her light pink eyes glistened under the chandelier, like freshly bloomed peonies.

"But you can't even speedwalk. Papa said so," Elios interjected, peering down at his younger sister. 

Adelia was irritated. It was reflected on her taut brows, but she forced a smile and ignored her older brother. She approached Weston and didn't make any efforts in touching him.

"Auntie Lydia is here," Adelia said, her pronunciations perfect. Even though her brother was developing quickly, she was even quicker. There was wisdom behind those eyes, as young as she was. Unfortunately, her physical growth was slow and she looked like a porcelain doll meant to be carried. 

Adelia would never admit it, but she had an inferior complex over her brother who inherited their Papa's superior Pure-Blood genes. She made up for it by burying her face in books too large for her tiny hand and too difficult for her youthful brain.

"Gosh, aren't you just the cutest little thing?" Easton teased, petting Adelia on the head. She peered up at him, her lips twisted into a slight smile. Ah, she was infuriated. Truly, her personality resembled Elias.

"You're all grown up now, aren't you, Adelia? You don't need to be carried like your older brother," Easton snickered, glancing at the little Prince who scowled at his words. 

"I don't need to be carried!" Elios whined.

Elios began wriggling out of Weston's arms, even though he loved to be held by people. It made him feel safe and secure, especially when their father always bullied and teased them too much. Finally, he gave in and hugged Weston back.

"I'm sure you don't, brother," Adelia calmly responded, her voice neutral as she grabbed Easton's hand. 

Adelia suppressed her urge to smile like her brother, even though she liked holding someone's hand when she walked.

"Where's Auntie Lydia?" Weston inquired, bending down to scoop Adelia into his arms. She instantly protested, shoving at his chest and kicking him. 

"I'm not a child. Put me down Uncle Weston!" Adelia complained, struggling in his arms. Finally, she revealed her childish demeanor.

"You're only three years old, Princess," Weston softly said, stroking the back of her light blond hair. Adelia looked in every way similar to her mother, but behaved nothing like her. But her heart was like their mother. 

Weston saw it in the way she'd sulk in the corner with her books and in the way she stared longingly at their parents, but said nothing for their attention.

"You're allowed to act like a kid," Weston reassured, planting a soft kiss on her cheek, soft and pink like a peach. 

Adelia sulked in his arms, saying nothing and looking away, hiding the relief in her eyes.

Weston nestled her in his arms, smiling down at Elios who looked like he was going to complain soon. Luckily, Easton grabbed the Prince's hand and the four walked down the corridor to see Lydia.

Soon, Adelia laid her head on Weston's shoulder, feeling at ease around him. Uncle Weston always treated her well, even though she tried her hardest to be an adult at three years old. Aside from her parents, only Uncle Weston understood her. The tutors and nannies never did…

"Auntie Lydia is with Mama," Adelia finally admitted, her voice a bit tired.

Adelia had read too many books today and her brain was tired. She hugged him tighter and knew it'd be alright to sleep in his arms. 

"Is that so?" Weston softly said, already knowing that was the first spot his girlfriend would be at. 

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