When Arden woke up, he realized several things.

  Firstly, most of the pain that took over his body was gone. Not all of it had disappeared, as he still felt the bruising that he felt mostly beneath his torn suit jacket and shirt.

  The memory remained, however.

  Arden’s breathing started to go ragged and sweat began to pour off of him. He clutched his head and curled up on his small bed, which led to his second realization.

  Some time over the course of his lapse in consciousness, he had been moved to his room to rest.

  He was thankful that he was alone for now because he didn’t want anyone to see him right now. He looked at his torn clothes hanging loosely off of him and noticed that the area around his crotch had the most damage done to it.

  Arden shuddered and grabbed his head tighter as he tried to push the memory of the pain out of his head. The speed of his breathing continued to increase for several minutes until all tension left his body and he relaxed, taking deep breaths. He imagined himself back home. The mental image of Sya and Vera in his mind did more to maintain his sanity then he thought it would.

  ‘It's over. You're okay now.’

  He looked around his room and had never been as relieved as he was at that moment.

  The bed barely big enough for him felt like a rival to the Usurper’s Throne. Even if it wasn't made of the most comfortable materials this world had to offer, and was instead a cot with leather stretched over it, Arden believed that it would be the most comfortable piece of furniture in existence after that.

  ‘Survive. Survive.’

  Arden closed his eyes tight and balled his hands into fists even tighter, his nails breaking through the skin on his palms and drawing blood.

  ‘Nux Valtorin, you will taste suffering.’

  Growing up in the Slums as an active participant of daily life, Arden had learned one thing fairly early on. It had many different names, but the one that became the main term was slum science.

  In theory, slum science was about figuring out how to survive. It was a more pragmatic version of the street smarts that people often talked about. Slum rats used slum science to figure out who best to avoid, who was the best person to join sides with, and how to avoid unfavorable scenarios.

  It focused more on defining the self than defining others around you, because the one thing every person on the planet knew the most was themself.

  People would ask themselves if they would survive an encounter with a certain person, or if they could use a gang before they themselves were used.

  It was also used to figure out how long it would take them to kill someone if the situation called for it.

  Arden never really cared about the art of murder before. It was something that was mostly unavoidable in the slums, but Arden was lucky enough to somehow avoid it. He used his slum science to be more focused on keeping away from people in general, rather than figuring out how best to use people.

  That was part of the reason why he and Yaan were so familiar with each other. They were complete opposites. Arden focused on surviving, while Yaan focused on being the one in control, which led to lots of conflict. In those moments, Yaan was always the one to win. It was in his nature.

  It was only when Vera started training Sya and Arden that his slum science evolved to focus on the mixture of aggression and passivity. The ability to attack at the perfect opportunity and the knowledge to avoid the lethal attacks that came his way.

  Just like clarity, the hardest element of combat to learn.

  Now, Arden wanted to focus his slum science in a new direction.

  He wanted to use his slum science to see how best to hurt Nux Valtorin. The thought of having Nux in front of him begging while on the receiving end of a biblical beatdown was blissful, or they would have been, if Arden didn’t start to shake in fear at just the thought of the mad prince.

  Arden looked on the wall where a magic digital clock sat displaying its time in pale blue numbers, as opposed to the red that Arden was accustomed to from his world.

  18:45. Early evening.

  He knew that dinner would be served in fifteen minutes. Whether they were at the estate or not, the final meal would always be ready at 7 at night, and last until 9, where the crew would clean up then turn in for the night.

  Arden felt his stomach rumble and placed a hand over it, looking forward to quelling his hunger pangs.

  He didn't know if the two healing potions affected his sense of hunger, or if being beaten to unconsciousness was the trigger, but he was absolutely ravenous.

  Next to the clock was a standing mirror, polished to a crystal shine.

  Regardless, it was thanks to the mirror that Arden remembered the disarray of his clothes.

  His shirt was no longer covered in blood stains thanks to the healing potion, but there were plenty of tears in the fabric. At this point, the shirt exposed enough skin to either be lingerie, or be used by Salome in the Dance of the Seven Veils.

  ‘For all the difference that makes.’

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  His pants were better, in that they didn't look like a sex aid, just a terrible fashion statement. The statement being “ouch.”

  If he wanted to get food, which he really did, he doubted that the prince would let Arden be seen in any dubious attire.

  Arden sighed. He did not want to dance to Nux’s tune, but he also didn't want to go hungry, which eclipsed his desire to be in control.

  He tore off his shirt and looked at his chest in the mirror. He sucked in air through his teeth when he saw the map of bruises his torso had become. The damage was bad enough to distract himself from his lacking figure.

  Apparently, Nux had been lying about the potions being a panacea. The healing potion hadn't healed him completely, just most of the way, unlike the first potion that allowed Arden to heal from a stab wound.

  ‘That begs the question.’

  Immense relief flooded out of him after seeing that his privates were healed as good as new.

  He pulled his pants back up as his door swung open, causing Arden to scowl hatefully.

  Entering Arden’s room was Bellum, still wearing his leather armor and satchel. He gestured to the closet hosting Arden’s clothes.

  “If you want to eat tonight with the rest, you will wear something presentable. You may be a demon, but even the worst demon king dresses with refinement.”

  Arden looked at the bodyguard with a look that told him just how badly Arden wanted to tear him apart.

  “Are you looking for another beating?” Bellum asked.

  Arden wordlessly looked away and opened the mini walk-in, grabbing a soft white dress shirt and a pair of black slacks. He absolutely wanted to rip Bellum’s head off, but he was enough of an aficionado of slum science to know that he would have to bide his time before doing that.

  The soft material of the shirt felt nice against Arden’s sensitive chest.

  Bellum stood in the doorway waiting for Arden to change into his new pants as well. Arden grumbled mentally as took off his pants and replaced them.

  ‘No privacy. At least back in Vera's place she didn't watch me change. She just came into my room in the middle of the night.’

  Arden felt his mood lighten somewhat at the thought of Vera. He sincerely hoped that her trial was going better than his.

  “Good,” Bellum said. “Have another one before we go.”

  He pulled a potion out from the purple pouch and pulled the cork out. Immediately, the small room was filled with the smell of strawberries.

  Arden wanted to deny Bellum, but he could tell from the crownguard's expression that he would deny Arden’s denial.

  Arden reluctantly took the potion from Bellum's hand and swallowed the liquid. He realized that this would be the first time he drank the potion while conscious.

  ‘It's pretty sweet. Like sugared strawberries.’

  Arden’s chest glowed faintly from beneath the shirt. He clenched his teeth in slight pain as the light died down.

  Looking down his shirt, he saw the bruise looked a lot better than before.

  His stomach however, felt a lot worse. Drinking a potion on an empty stomach felt like it was a bad idea, and his stomach agreed.

  Bellum spoke up.

  “What you are feeling is potion fatigue. It's what happens when you drink too many potions in quick succession. You're supposed to have at most one every six hours.”

  He held up his index finger, middle finger, and ring finger.

  “You've had three, so you will be in for a rough night.

  Arden wanted so desperately to respond, but he held his tongue. He refused to break here. And if he did break, he would make sure to break the man in front of him, and the prince as well.

  Bellum backed out of Arden’s room and Arden followed him. Arden was led to where everything had gone wrong. The bookshelf.

  Nux was gone, presumably outside overseeing construction of the makeshift campsite. One look through the windows that lined the train car sized carriage confirmed it. Arden glared at him for a moment.

  ‘I’m going to kill you.’

  Arden reluctantly returned his gaze to Bellum who was at the bookshelf. Arden watched as the crownsguard moved a few books and placed his hand on the strange pattern that Arden noticed right before he was attacked. He felt a strange energy rise from Bellum as he spoke.

  “Praise be to the new star.”

  When Bellum said that, a part of the floor slowly split open to reveal darkness lurking beneath. From the darkness, a white pillar with a sharp edge rose up. When the pillar poked the ceiling, a translucent veil fell around Arden and Bellum.

  ‘Is this a vault hidden in a sensory veil?’

  The veil was a cube half the size of the carriage. Arden looked around from inside of it and saw several things that caught his eye.

  A chest full of different colored gems. An anvil made of what looked like cooling lava emitting steam. A black tailcoat.

  Of all of the treasures in this space, there was one thing that arrested all of Arden’s attention. Tucked away at the back border of the space was a stone altar. The altar did not appear in any way special, just a plinth with a few cracks and a design carved into the top of it that Arden couldn't make out from where he stood. Its utter mundanity was what drew Arden’s attention.

  Sitting on the altar was a white stone. No, not a stone, a pearl. It looked like a marble with grey and golden fog swirling around inside.

  Just by being in its presence, Arden could tell that this thing was immensely powerful. It didn't have an aura like a Starborn or the doppelganger, but Arden could still feel the power lurking within the pearl. It was warm, comforting, and indescribably powerful. Arden immediately knew what it was.

  ‘The Godstone.’

  Bellum grabbed the tailcoat off of the hanger it was hanging on and knelt again towards Nux’s seat.

  “May the new star's radiance never dim.”

  With those words, The translucent veil, along with all of the treasures inside, faded from existence.

  Bellum stood up and handed the tailcoat to Arden to put on, which Arden did. The fact that the final piece of Arden’s outfit needed to go out was kept in Nux’s magic vault that was only accessible via a verbal command was not lost on Arden.

  ‘Just another way of showing who's in control.’

  Not that it mattered. Nux and Bellum knew that he wasn't a mute. It was a power play.

  Arden and Bellum made way for the door, both of them eager to fill their stomachs. Arden cast one last glance at the bookshelf hiding the sensory vault. Even if he wanted to break in, he wouldn't be able to. He lacked magic. Arden was even more mundane in this world than he was back home.

  Arden felt his stomach lurch as he stepped out of the magicarriage. He really hoped that food would ease his stomach.