How Old Is Sir Nighteye Novels & Stories

“How long ago?” “A century” Caspian answered smoothly. Her head snapped between us. “A... A... What?” I didn’t bother softening it, “I’m actually two hundred and seventy years old” Lyra stared. Caspian inclined his head. “One hundred and seventy-five” Her gaze slid to Richard and he shrugged. “Don't look at me, I'm not that old, I'm Thirty, but stopped aging at twenty” She let out a quiet, humorless breath. “Right, of course, supernatural power play”

The British Lord, “I don’t want to settle a score with you, but this incident makes me feel really uneasy. You have to find him when you go over this time!” Mr. Chardon replied immediately in a loud and respectful voice, “British Lord, please rest assured that I will definitely find a way to find that kid and kill him with my own hands!” The British Lord sighed and said emotionally, “If that brat is still alive, he should be almost thirty years old now, right?” Mr. Chardon nodded and responded, “If I remember correctly, when I killed Curtis and Ashley, their son had just turned eight.” The British Lord murmured, “Eight years old… Twenty years have passed since then, so he should be twenty-ei

I said to his face, but the smirk on his lips didn’t disappear. “That was the same thing my other two mistresses said, so I’m not surprised you’re saying it too,” he said, sounding so confident in himself. But I knew he was right. Sir Titus had a mate—his wife—who was probably in her forties, and he should be in his late forties himself. Yet, his two mistresses were in their early twenties.

“And if we add twenty-five to fifty, no sixty. We get seventy-five years old.” “Is that your answer? Seventy-five?” He asked. His smile and the mischief in his eyes remained with the same intensity, and Layla twisted her lips. She had calculated he was seventy-five years old, but he didn’t look seventy-five at all. But then he was a vampire, so… “My first guess is that you’re between seventy-five and eighty-five. Am I right?” She asked, confident about her answer. Alaric’s smirk widened, and he shook his head. “You’re wrong.”

And there, just visible beneath the thin silk robe, was the gentle curve of my stomach. Livia brushed my hair with a silver comb that sang softly with every stroke. “Tell me about him,” I whispered, afraid and unable to stop myself. Livia’s hands never paused. “Prince Valerian Nocturne is five hundred and twelve years old. The only son of King Lucius the Unbroken. He has ruled as Crown Prince for four centuries. Warriors fear his blade. Scholars fear his mind. Women—” She paused, lips curving. “Women have thrown themselves at his feet for centuries. He never looked twice.”

Nick must have noticed because he began rubbing my arm softly, "A penny for your thoughts?" I chuckled, "That saying is so old." Nick just laughed and smiled, turning me to face him, "I am a hundred and twenty years old, Aiday. I'm very old fashioned." My eyes went wide, a hundred and twenty years? I'm only eighteen which means that is a hundred and two years between us! "How is that going to work with our kids?" I asked, he seemed a bit surprised by my question and shrugged,

* * * Eve’s POV * * * The man who has taken the lead of their group appears to be an older gentleman; I would say he is maybe 60 years old. He has a powerful aura around him; I know he has definitely been a ranked Lycan back in his day. He also has an air of arrogance to him, believing we are lesser creatures because we aren’t Lycan.

The members nodded silently and looked at each other for permission before opening their reports. The eldest, Sir Evans, a man in his late 60’s stood up with a potbelly. His old and wrinkly body was covered under the fine layers of expensive silk and cotton whereas a thin mane of silver decorated the sides of his head, leaving the top shiny and bald. He cleared his throat before focusing those dark orbs towards the disfigured king.

“Are you listening, Harlow Nightingale?” My eyes dipped down to his face. It took a second for my vision to adapt because I’d been staring at that damn light for so long. He was dressed all in black, black pants, black button-down shirt, black boots. Once my eyes adjusted, and I was able to look at his face, I realized he was fairly good looking. He seemed slightly older than me, maybe in his early twenties, with dark blond hair that covered his ears and fell over one eye. “I wondered how long it would take for you to see my signal. It’s not quite a bat signal, but then, you’re not quite a bat either, are you?”

“Thank you, dad, please ask her.” “I’m just saying, I mean, they are not even related.” “Don’t push them,” Edward caressed her face, “let them decide on their own.” “They are not getting any younger.” “They are Nightwalkers. They are still going into their prime. Nightwalkers mates from two hundred years, remember? And they are just a hundred and seventeen.” “Going to eighteen. I mean, Mariah will be a hundred and eighteen in the next two months. The blood moon is in a month’s time, I really hope she finds someone before her birthday.”