MTLNOVEL Chapter 13: Tainted Mirror
In the midst of the grand hall, a lone figure reclined in an isolated corner beneath a vast window. Moonlight cascaded around him in a pale arc, as if forming a barrier between him and the world—enclosing him in its silent embrace. His golden attire shimmered faintly under its glow, but his gaze remained fixed on the floor, lost in depths unknown.
No one dared to approach. His presence alone wove an unspoken command, warding off any who might have ventured too close. It was not mere arrogance but something deeper—a quiet detachment, an air of someone who did not wish to be here, who longed to disappear into the night. And yet... something unseen bound him to this place, keeping him tethered to the ceremony despite the restlessness simmering beneath his skin.
A voice, laced with amusement, shattered the silence.
"What are you doing sulking in a corner?" It was smooth, teasing. "Did they kick you out of the ceremony, or are you brooding by choice?"
Mordret lifted his head. A strikingly gray, elegantly sculpted face met his gaze—regal, yet inviting, as if she belonged both on a throne and among commoners alike. The woman bent slightly toward him, her movement graceful, effortless. A glint of mirth danced in her eyes, but beneath it lay something softer... concern, curiosity.
He did not answer. The silence stretched between them, only broken by the distant murmur of revelry. His expression remained unreadable, a frown barely tugging at his perfect features—yet rather than diminishing his beauty, it only seemed to enhance it.
Realizing she would get nothing out of him, the woman merely sighed and settled beside him, her presence light, unintrusive. She cast him a sidelong glance before following his gaze to the unfolding ceremony.
For a while, neither spoke. An unspoken understanding settled between them, an odd sort of stillness in contrast to the music and laughter echoing through the hall.
Minutes passed.
Finally, the woman exhaled and shook her head.
"We can sit here forever, you know?" she mused. "But it won't still whatever storm is raging inside you."
Mordret tilted his head slightly but did not turn toward her. His voice, when he spoke, was quiet—like a thread of silk slipping through the air.
"Seishan..." he murmured. "You should leave while you still can."
She raised a brow. "And why would I do that?"
Her tone was light, teasing. "Is someone planning to blow this place up? Because I'd love to meet the fool who thinks they can take on three Sovereigns and the strongest Saints of humanity all at once." She smirked. "Sounds like a very interesting person, going out in such a glamorous way."
Mordret did not react at first, his expression remaining as unreadable as ever. And yet, something in his gaze shifted—something imperceptible, but there. A flicker of amusement, perhaps. A brief reprieve from whatever thoughts plagued him.
At last, he turned his head, his eyes finally meeting hers.
Seishan was undeniably one of the most beautiful women alive—any other man, Saint or not, would have faltered beneath her gaze.
Mordret knew this, objectively. But the desire to acknowledge it never quite came. To him, she was no different from the countless others he had encountered.
And yet...
There was something. A small, almost imperceptible distinction.
Any other woman would not have dared to sit beside him so casually. Any other woman would not have tried to reach him through jest and warmth.
That little something...
Perhaps, he wouldn't mind getting used to it.
"It's never enough," Mordret murmured at last, though it felt as if he were speaking only to himself. "No matter what I do... it will never be enough."
His gaze turned distant, unfocused—drifting beyond the dancing guests, beyond the marble walls of the grand hall, beyond even the distant sky.
Silence stretched between them before Seishan finally exhaled.
"Did that brat get to you again?" she asked, her voice carrying a sigh. "Why do you always let her words dig under your skin?"
Mordret's expression remained unreadable, but his voice held a sharp edge. "It's not about her saying it." A pause. "It's just the truth. It always has been. I've just been in denial all this time... hoping things could change. Hoping for the impossible."
The weight of his words lingered, settling like a thick fog.
Then, in the quiet, he spoke again.
"A mirror reflects what stands before it. Or so everyone knows. But that's not true. When a mirror reflects enough filth, enough deceit, it doesn't remain untainted. The dirt clings to it, seeping into the glass—until, eventually, every reflection it casts is stained by the same corruption."
Seishan studied him for a moment before she slowly rose from her seat.
"In that case..." she turned toward him, her expression both knowing and impossibly gentle. "Shouldn't the mirror try washing away the dirt? With something beautiful?"
She extended a hand toward him, her smile cutting through the moonlight like a serene, untouchable force—elegant, unyielding, as though she belonged to the darkness and yet stood against it.
Something in her presence, in her effortless grace, stirred something within him. A small shift, a faint crack in the carefully maintained walls of his indifference.
Mordret's lips twitched—just barely, but enough.
The moonlight caught in his eyes, reflecting the world as it always did... and yet, in that fleeting moment, Seishan's image within them seemed to glow just a little brighter.
'Wash away the dirt with something beautiful?'
The words turned over in his mind, echoing in places long untouched. And for the first time in longer than he could remember, a trace of a genuine smile curved his lips.
Slowly, deliberately, he reached out and grasped the hand offered to him.
As he rose, his presence towered over hers—not in an oppressive way, but in a way that made her seem almost smaller than she was.
"That," he said, his voice quieter now, "might indeed be worth trying."
And with that, they stepped forward—together—toward the dance floor.
A wave of astonished gazes followed them. Whispered voices rippled through the crowd, each hushed exclamation charged with disbelief.
"I-Is that really Lord Mordret?"
"He's actually... going to dance? With her?"
"What do you mean her? That's Saint Seishan!"
"Wait... does that mean the two of them are—"
"Shh! They might hear you!"
But none of it mattered. Neither Mordret nor Seishan were the type to be concerned with idle gossip.
However, there were four particular individuals whose reactions were far less composed.
"What in the burning hell of spell—?!"
Lonesome Howl nearly toppled out of her seat, her voice carrying across the hall. "Seishan... Mordret... Since when!?"
"What? How?!" Even Silent Stalker, ever the composed one, was staring wide-eyed. "Tell me I'm seeing things. Tell me I'm seeing things!"
"Oh my," Moonveil chuckled behind her fingers, the gleam in her eyes far too entertained. "It seems what I said was true after all. In the end, that guy really is just a human." She turned toward Revel, her smirk deepening. "You should have tried harder. You missed your chance."
Revel's fingers curled at her sides.
"But why...?" The words slipped out before she could stop them, quiet, almost too small. An unfamiliar weight settled in her chest—something like rejection, something like regret. "What did I do wrong...? Does that mean am I-"
For the barest moment, a tear threatened to rise, but she swallowed it down before it could take form. Showing such weakness now would be nothing less than disgraceful.
No.
In the end, none of it mattered.
What mattered was bringing Mordret over to their side—to balance the scales before they tipped too far out of control. If Seishan could accomplish that, then it was a victory for all of them.
Yes. That was all that mattered.
Then why... why did it feel like something inside her was caving in?
A hand landed on her back, snapping her out of her thoughts.
"Don't worry, Revel," Moonveil said, her tone oddly gentle. "Missing one chance just means there's someone better out there, waiting for you."
A bitter smile twisted Revel's lips as she swatted the hand away.
"I don't need your sympathy." She took a slow breath, forcing composure back into her voice. "What we do need is a plan. If there's a chance Seishan can persuade Mordret to take our side, then we need to do everything we can to ensure that happens. Time for an emergency meeting."
Her words were met with silence. Then, slowly, the others nodded.
And just like that, whatever personal feelings they harbored were shoved aside.
There was work to do.
Their night was far from over.