Aria had just settled back on the bed, still thinking of her sister’s well-being and how soon she would be able to see her again, when the sound of the door being pushed open jarred her away from her thoughts.
For a split second, she thought it was Zyren who had returned to torment her, only to jerk upright in relief as she saw Rymora walk in, closing the door quietly behind her.
Aria had been surprised not to see her already waiting in the room, but was even more surprised to note the dampness of her hair—it was clear she had recently taken her bath.
Her eyes were slightly red, and it was obvious from the dazed expression on her face that she wasn’t quite being her usual self.
"You look like you’ve seen a ghost," Aria pointed out, even as Rymora bowed her head and moved straight toward the table, picking up a paper and pen, which she immediately began to scribble on.
’I’m sorry for being late!’ she boldly apologized, turning the paper toward Aria for her to read.
’I woke up with belly pains. My period came early and I was unprepared,’ she went on scribbling, even as Aria nodded, barely glancing at the excuse.
Aria didn’t really see Rymora as her maid, but simply as someone who was supposed to help her. Besides, she understood that not every day could be served at full strength.
The bruises at the edge of her lips were still obvious, and somehow Aria hesitated to ask about them. She simply sighed, staring at the light bruises on her own arms, and spoke in a low tone to Rymora, who was already moving toward the wardrobe to help her figure out what to wear.
"You can take the day off. I’ll manage on my own," Aria told her, though Rymora instantly began to shake her head, refusing to agree with a worried look on her face.
"To be honest, I need some time to myself. Moreover... I can’t imagine how awful you feel," Aria added, but she wasn’t even done speaking when she heard Rymora sniff. Tears pooled quickly in the girl’s eyes—large, silent tears she tried not to let fall but couldn’t hold back.
Grabbing the piece of paper she had been writing on, Rymora slowly began to scribble again, even as she smiled faintly at Aria through the tears.
’Thank you,’ she wrote, aware that since Aria had said it, she could finally allow herself to lie down for the rest of the day.
Being reprimanded by Falson and made aware of her failure had made her feel worse than usual—but more than that, it was the way Gregor had left after she refused him intimacy. That failure cut deep. Her shame was personal, old, and thick with the helpless thoughts she had once buried.
’What am I? Am I nothing but a failure?’ she thought, bowing her head gratefully at Aria before gently heading out of the room and closing the door behind her.
Aria instantly got up and bathed, surprised at how long she had held it in. She hurried to get dressed.
After failing to find anything that could hide even half the love bites that covered her entire body, Aria finally found a long white silk gown.
The only con was how transparent it was—enough to show every part of her when she threw it on.
’You said I couldn’t wear a coat. You didn’t say I couldn’t wear an undercloth,’ she thought to herself as she went ahead and wore a small, short white lacy gown that covered her breasts and most of her legs—enough to ensure that no part of her could be seen.
Ready, she went ahead and stepped out of the room, heading straight toward the food hall where meals were to be eaten.
Aria did her best to walk faster, despite her limp and the pain in her hip, pushing forward with determination in her eyes as she headed there, not wanting to be late.
But she had just entered when she was taken aback by the sight of people bowing. Her back stiffened, and a shiver ran down her spine as she realized Zyren had arrived.
She instantly bowed her head too, not daring to look at him as he walked past her—only to hear him pause, then gesture like he usually did.
He was ordering her to move closer.
She did, and just like before, she found herself on his lap, her eyes fixed on everything and everyone but him.
She could feel his arm wrap around her waist, firm and possessive, but she ignored it, focusing instead on the maids who had already begun serving food—until his whisper reached her ear, low yet deliberately audible.
"Your sister is fine?"
His tone made warning signs scream in her head. She fought to keep her face neutral, nodding with a smile she didn’t feel.
"She is fine," Aria responded, still refusing to speak aloud to him. But then his next words froze her blood.
"That’s good. Then you won’t mind sharing my bed again."
He said it louder—loud enough that even the human maids could hear it—and in a tone far too delighted, like it was something that had already been decided.
Aria jerked around to look at him, her eyes wide with disbelief, but she said nothing. Instead, she turned away again, focusing on the platter of food in front of her, filled and steaming.
Her gaze met Vivian’s—red and burning. The vampire woman looked like she was on the verge of exploding. Her hands clenched the iron fork tightly enough to bend it in half.
If looks could kill, Aria was sure she would already be dead. But instead of fear, a hint of satisfaction curled in her chest. A small, smug smile touched her lips as she watched Vivian struggle to contain herself.
But then Vivian sprang to her feet, her eyes gleaming with sudden clarity.
"My King," she said the moment she stood, bowing her head in a gesture of forced grace.
Zyren nodded, granting her permission to speak.
"...A few weeks have passed. We can no longer ignore the tradition of the Blood Tournament," she beamed, her expression gleaming with cruelty.
Aria’s body tensed. She instinctively sat straighter. From the excitement on Vivian’s face alone, she could already sense—whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be good for her.