It was far from the first time Burn had a bde, or for that matter, any other dinnerware shoved through his heart.

  His chest had been transformed into a pin cushion, stabbed with everything from broadswords to butter knives, and had been on the receiving end of every magic spell imaginable.

  You , he's had it through the heart. Swords, arroitchfork once, and even an ill-aimed uni horn. His heart had seen more metal than a scrapyard mag and had absorbed more magic than a fairy godmother's wand.

  But Burn, oh our dear, iructible Burn, always mao survive, every siime. He had a knack for heartbreak, literally.

  It was as if he ying a never-ending game of 'how many things I survive getting stabbed with?' and spoiler alert: he was winning.

  Still, none of that held a dle to the pain he felt today.

  "Ugh—"

  What in the seven hells was that—

  "Your Majesty!"

  Someone shouted, and immediately the hall erupted in chaos. It was as if someone had dropped a firecracker in a chi coop. Guards, led by Gahad, scrambled in a flurry of armor and g ons.

  Even the half-drunk party-goers sobered up enough to gawk at the se.

  But among the screams and shouts, one voice stood out.

  "Master!"

  It was Yvain, who, instead of joining the frenzied mass of people rushing to his aid, decided to leap in the opposite dire like a rabbit on steroids.

  He wasn't ied in helping to apprehend the audacious servant who had just stabbed Burn. Instead, as Burn followed his movements with his eyes, he saw Yvain running towards his master, Man Le Fay.

  Marissa and the other noblewoman, who was unfortunate enough to have front-row seats to the spectacle, let out screams that could have shattered gss.

  One part of their terror was straightforward enough: they had just witnessed Burn, their emperet impaled violently. But the sed part of their horror was a tad more... ued.

  At the same time as the sword made itself at home in Burn's heart, Man vomited blood.

  "COUGH!"

  Man's normally elegant demeanor was repced with a violent, bloody interruption. And boy, did it send another wave of pain surging through Burn's chest, where the sword was still lodged.

  Burn reached out tan. Pain—

  "Man..." The name came out as a raspy whisper, like sandpaper on his vocal cords.

  Man lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes full of a sadness so deep, it could have drowhe capital.

  "It hurts..." Burn's words were gritted out through ched teeth in pain. "Are we going to die together?"

  Cursing time demanded an upfront payment, like when they returo their checkpoint after Man's an failure in the vampire church basement. She paid the price then, and a new loop began right from that moment.

  And now, Burn was left w what loomed in his future that was bad enough to kill him. The pain he was feeling was like someone had reached into his chest, grabbed a k of his soul, and ya out with a bde that was not only red-hot but also serrated and dull.

  "Don't speak... Caliburn..." Man reached up to him, propping him up as best as she could. "I'll take your pain away... kiss me."

  Bure his current predit, mao voice his question. "Did you share with me your soul between our kisses...?"

  "Of course I did—That's the only way to keep you alive!" Man blurted out, frustration making her eyes glisten with uears.

  Just like how Burn had shared his Force through their kisses, Man had shared her Vision—no, she had shared her very soul with him.

  She had begun this soul-sharing business from the very start, bit by bit, with every kiss they shared, all to prepare for a moment like this. A moment when the curse might demand Caliburn's soul as its toll fee.

  But as it turned out, this time, even the locket neckd the fragments of her soul she'd shared weren't enough. It looked like they were headed towards a tragiding: dying together.

  "Kneel and lower your heads!" Gahad anded, his voice cutting through the room like a sword. His order fell at the same time as Burn and Man's lips met.

  Immediately, every soul in the room, except for the pair in the middle, hit their knees. Heads bowed low, their bodies became mos to fear, and not a single person dared to lift their gaze. Their hearts were jittery rabbits, thumping wildly in their chests.

  They had never heard their mighty emperor utter the words, 'It hurts.' The very cept was alien, unthinkable.

  This was the man who had ughed in the face of a dozen spears skewering him, who had tio battle his adversaries as if it was just auesday. The emperor who had chased after his own severed limbs to reattach them himself.

  Emperor Burn had never beeo pin about pain.

  "Painful... Man... COUGH!" Burn's words were punctuated by a violent cough, spattering the floor with blood. The sight of it was enough to drain the color from every fa the room.

  They had never seen him bleed this much before—

  K!

  As she kissed him, she gently tugged the sword from his chest, letting it fall to the floor with all the grace of a drunken swan. And then, she used her right hand to plug the suddenly vat hole in his chest.

  Healing it? Oh, that was as easy as stealing dy from a baby. Or from a fully grown, sword-wielding warrior, same difference. But the real kicker, the real cherry on top of this misery sundae, was trying to shove more soul energy into the man to quell his pain.

  “Man…”

  Pain!

  Imagine being served a five-course meal of pain, each dish more excruciating tha. That's what Burn was experieng. First up, a delectable appetizer of white-hot pokers being jammed into every joint. Divine.

  The main course? An exquisite blend of molten va casg over exposed nerves, garnished with a generous sprinkling of electric shocks. A ary masterpiece of torment.

  The pate ser was a refreshing gss of acid, chased down by a swarm of furious hors stinging from the inside. Dessert, you ask? A delightful ptter of your worst migraine, multiplied by the equivalent of root al, served on a bed of shattered gss shards.

  And for the pièce de résistance, a digestif of existential despair, a soul-deep agony that makes the physical torment seem like a tickle fight. Bon appétit, Burn.

  Pain asted so… painful.

  “Fuck—”

  "Sssh..." Man whispered, her voice as soothing as a lulby, "It doesn't hurt anymore, right?"

  It was still… wait, what sorcery was this?

  As if obeying her and, the pain began to fade like a relut star at dawn.

  "Ha—" Burn expelled a sigh of relief. Sweat trickled down his forehead. His khreateo buckle, but then he sensed Marength waning, about to join him in a knee-meeting-floor maneuver.

  With a fortitude that would impress a graatue, he stiffened his body, became her pilr, and pulled her close in an embrace.

  A flood of memories hit him, like a cruel tide dragging in shards of broken gss. Like him, her soul must have been shredded by the curse, each episode more brutal tha, until there was nothi but scraps.

  And now, she was not only paying the price for the curse, but she was also pying handyman to his battered soul.

  "I'm all good now, heal yourself, Man Le Fay!" Burn decred urgently. "Man—!"

  His call echoed through the room, but as he was mid-yell, he felt her hand grace his chest. She pried her eyes open, the effort visible, as if she were lifting two fortress gates.

  "Where... is the locket... I gave you...?" she asked with a voice so beautifully weak it tore on everyone present.

  Especially Marissa.