I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

“You bastard,” she screamed, her eyes locked on his back with a glare that could’ve set him on fire, well, if she could.

Her legs wobbled as she stood straight, her pride in tatters but still clinging to that last ember of defiance, refusing to crumble entirely.

Julian flopped back into his seat, grabbing his mug and taking a slow sip, not even glancing her way.

“Run along, Princess,” he muttered, bored now. “The kingdom’s mine—go cry to your baby boy about it.” He waved a hand toward the door, shooing her away.

Hallie’s chest rose and fell with sharp, uneven breaths, fists trembling at her sides. But she didn’t move to fight again. Her strength was gone, spent, and his words echoed too loudly in her head.

“Did your love buckle under the weight of your need to breathe.”

She turned, stumbling toward the door and yanking it open, only to be greeted by the soft, muffled gossips of the Guardians outside.

Without any words, Hallie rushed out, nearly tripping over her tangled gown. She didn’t look back—just kept moving before disappearing down the shadowed hall.

Meanwhile, the Four Guardians, who stood just outside the door, froze as Hallie’s battered form brushed past them, the sight of her, leaving them momentarily speechless.

Raphael was the first to react, his mouth hanging open in disbelief, the ale halfway to his lips. His wide eyes followed her retreating form, then snapped back to the closed door.

“What the hell just happened inside?” he blurted, his voice a mix of shock and curiosity.

Inside, Julian’s laugh grew louder, spilling from the cracks in the door. He remained seated, indifferent to the storm that had just happened.

**

Hallie rushed through the shadowed halls, her torn gown trailing behind her with each of her steps. Reaching the door of the room where they had huddled earlier, she yanked it open and slammed it shut behind her.

The Queen and Ivan were already on their feet, their eyes snapping to her as she entered. Their gaze locked onto her wild hair, her flushed, tear-streaked face, and the fury radiating from her every pore.

Ivan stepped forward, his eyes searching her face. “What happened, Mother?” he asked, his tone soft but urgent. His hands twitched at his sides, wanting to reach for her but unsure if he should, unsure of what had broken in her in this way.

Hallie didn’t answer. Her eyes remained fixed on the floor, her breath still ragged, her entire body trembling as though she might crumble into dust if she spoke.

The Queen moved closer, her red hair still a mess from her own breakdown. “Hallie, what happened?” she pressed, repeating Ivan.

Her gaze darted between Hallie’s face and the closed door, and in that brief moment, it was clear she had already begun to imagine the worst.

After a long, suffocating silence, Hallie lifted her head, her eyes hollow and distant. “Ivan,” she finally whispered, her words rough with the strain of trying to keep it together. “Can you please leave?”

Ivan hesitated, and opened his mouth to protest. The sight of his mother’s suffering was a blow he couldn’t yet comprehend, but he stood there, caught between the need to help her and the uncertainty of what to do.

His words remained caught in his throat, but in the end, he didn’t speak. He simply looked at her, begging for an explanation she couldn’t give him.

Before he could speak, the queen nodded quickly, cutting him off. Her hand brushed Ivan’s arm, urging him to understand. “Go, Ivan,” she said, her gaze flicking between him and Hallie. “Now.”

Ivan’s shoulders slumped, his confusion still heavy, but he obeyed. He turned slowly, lingering for a moment longer at the door. His eyes locked on Hallie one last time, but the silence crushed him, and he slipped out, leaving the two women alone.

The door clicked shut behind Ivan, his footsteps fading down the hall, and the Queen turned sharply to Hallie.

“Tell me, Hallie,” she demanded, her voice low but insistent. “What happened? Did he do anything to you?”

She closed the distance between them, her hands trembling as they hovered near her daughter, aching with the urge to comfort. Her earlier despair had transformed, morphing into that of maternal protectiveness.

Hallie stood motionless. She swallowed hard, her throat tight, almost as if the words were caught there, struggling to be freed. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she spoke.

“I went to him,” she started, her eyes flicking to the floor, then back up, dark with shame and rage. “I—I tried to confront him, Ma. I threw things, screamed at him… I even pulled a dagger.” Her hands shook as she gestured toward the space around them, as though reliving the chaos.

“But he—he pinned me, Ma. Against the wall. His hands… on my throat, my face. He bit me—here.” She touched her ear, the red mark still deep.

The queen’s eyes widened, and her hands flew to her mouth in shock. She couldn’t hide her horror as she took a step closer, eyes scanning her daughter’s disheveled form, lingering on the bite mark.

“He what?” Her voice rose in disbelief, the words barely leaving her as she processed the cruelty her daughter had endured.

Her gaze burned into Hallie’s face, demanding more, but at the same time, she was afraid of what she would hear next.

“He taunted me,” Hallie went on, her voice cracking, tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

She pushed through the sobs, forcing herself to speak, to get the words out, even as the horror of it all seemed to choke her.

“Kept laughing—called Ivan worthless, said I’d failed him. He… he played with me, Ma—his fingers on my lips, asking how much I’d do for Ivan, like it was a game. I pushed him off, but he let me go—like I was nothing to him.”

The queen’s face twisted, her hands balling into fists, as Hallie’s words sank deep into her heart. “That vile—!” she spat, cutting herself off, her voice trembling with a mix of rage and horror.