That could only mean one thing. Zyren had arrived already. Not just arrived—been there long enough for the doors to be shut behind him.
Rymora’s expression didn’t change, but the way she stepped back—just two quick paces—made everything clear.
’I’m just a maid!’ aware that although Aria could stomach Zyren’s gaze she couldn’t.3
As much as Rymora might have wanted to help Aria, there was nothing she could do now.
Aria frowned deeply, her brows furrowing as she stepped forward and gestured to the guards. Recognition flickered in their eyes. Without hesitation, they opened the door for her.
But Aria’s courage only lasted one step.
As soon as she crossed the threshold, she froze.
It was like plunging into ice water.
Something was different. Unfamiliar.
The normal arrangement she was used to—the usual layout of the room—was gone. Her eyes lifted slowly, scanning the space. The long table had been swapped for a much larger one. Her gaze traveled further, catching a figure seated at the other end where no one would have dared to sit.
To the left sat men and women with furry ears—werewolves. Their postures were tense, aggressive. On the right, the vampires. Their fangs bared more than once. A display. A challenge.
King Jared watched her, eyes fixed on her as if he’d been waiting. His gaze sharp, almost gleaming.
She turned hoping to find comfort in the familiarity of Zyren’s presence away from the numerous eyes that instantly became fixed on her. But all she could see was his back.
He didn’t turn to look at her...Not even once.
And as her gaze shifted further, she took in the rest of the room.
The tension in the room was so thick it could be sliced with a blade.
Each side bristled, poised like predators just waiting for the signal to pounce, yet at that moment their entire focus was on her.
Aria couldn’t help but swallow the obstruction in her throat as she stepped forward, struggling against the invisible force that threatened to swallow her as she took multiple steps right towards Zyren, who continued to pretend that she didn’t exist. Each step felt like dragging a boulder across glass—shaky, unsteady, yet impossible to stop. Her heart thumped against her ribcage, the tension in the room suffocating, prickling her skin like needles. Still, she kept her head high. Or at least, tried to.
"Your highness! I apologize for my late arrival!" Aria said with a low bow of her head, her voice just barely steady. Half-expecting at least a cold shoulder, she prepared herself for something harsh—something dismissive—perhaps even silence. It was still little compared to how he had treated Harriet, who was now staring daggers into her soul from where she sat, close to Zyren’s right.
A smug look on Harriet’s face almost said it all... ’This is an official gathering! There’s no seat, so you’ll have to stand.’ That seemed to be the meaning hidden behind that smirk, curled so tightly that it cut at Aria like a blade. Yet, Aria was unbothered by it—or at least, that was how she looked. She simply waited for Zyren to speak, not blinking, not breathing too deeply. Just waiting.
Her eyes widened in surprise when he finally did.
"Come here!" he ordered, his tone completely neutral, not giving away even a hint of emotion. Even as Aria obeyed, walking over to him slowly, her mind struggled to make sense of it. She was completely taken aback when she felt him lift her off the ground, his arms effortlessly encircling her waist as he placed her right on his lap—right where he usually did. The sudden warmth of his body shocked her more than she expected, her breath catching just slightly in her throat.
He spoke in a voice that no one in the hall would be unable not to hear. His words carried weight, intentional and clear, like a pronouncement made before the entire world.
"You don’t have to apologize," he told her.
Aria blinked. Then again.
She watched as a maid instantly stepped forward to her side and bowed her head, waiting for instructions to serve her food, her hands ready and silent, like part of the furniture. All while Zyren continued to speak.
"She’s still recovering and I have been too hard on her!" he said.
And then, with deliberate ease, he picked up Aria’s hands—his fingers cold against her own—and placed a kiss on the back of her hand.
And her entire face reddened, flushed completely at the deeper meaning buried in the words Zyren had just said to her in front of everyone. Her heart pounded now—not from fear, but confusion, embarrassment, and something she didn’t want to name. It was clear that he was indeed helping her out—he was giving her protection, a reason for her lateness. Moreover, he also reminded her of the fact that she was supposed to be sick. Something she had completely forgotten about.
Still...Aria didn’t like it. Not one bit. Especially not when she caught the look Jared sent directly at her from where he sat, barely having touched what was on his plate compared to the others. His stare was sharp. Focused. Like a predator watching something small and vulnerable.
Aria had just lowered her head again, ignoring everything else, choosing to focus on the small task of giving the maid beside her instructions—the little quantity of food she should dish into her plate—when she suddenly heard Jared speak.
And instantly, a bad feeling slammed into her chest the second she heard his familiar voice.
"King Zyren... according to Vampire rules I thought you are only allowed to have one pet?" he asked.
Harriet, who had been sitting quietly in her seat, doing her best to ignore the bloody glare Lady Violet kept sending her way, and doing even more to not show the anger boiling within her, suddenly froze. Her body went stiff, her breath shallow.
She suddenly felt a cold storm hovering over her.
King Jared’s words had cut right through the hall and landed straight on her shoulders. She had tried to remain composed, but now every inch of her felt exposed.
"I heard the blood tournament winner is undecided since your pet got poisoned. This means that the other lady hasn’t been claimed by you," Jared continued in a voice that clearly said he was interested. Too interested.
Even though it was clear that the fact that she was already a prospect to replace Aria meant that Zyren already had a claim on her, Harriet’s entire body was stiff as she waited. Waited for King Zyren to refuse—which was the bare minimum of the courtesy he could afford her. Something she was certain would happen.
Only for her heart to go cold.
A sly smile curled on King Jared’s face as everyone heard Zyren speak.
He continued to sip from the cup he held in his hand, unbothered. Calm.
"Unless she wins and defeats Aria, she has no relation to me," he said.
His voice was cold. So cold it could have shattered glass. So sharp it could slice skin.
Even Aria would have pitied Harriet if not for what followed—the bloodthirsty gaze that was shot in her direction. It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t calm. It was direct. Clear.
And it was coming from Harriet.
An aura that directed itself straight at Aria with lethal focus.
One that showed, without a shred of doubt, that it wanted nothing more than to rip her to pieces.