CHAPTER 39: ANSHUR’S CONFRONTATION

Dinner was still an hour away, but the walls of the Sonder mansion were already painted with that amber-gold light that made everything look warmer than it really was.

The lever harp lesson had ended without further incident, at least it seemed like so.

The tutor gave Cory one last polite nod before gathering her sheets of music and leaving, and Hailie was wheeled away by another servant to be taken back to her room for rest. So that left me, poor old Cory Jay Smith, sitting in the corner of the room music room, surrounded by giant instruments I didn’t even know existed in this god-forsaken world, waiting for everyone to clear out before I dare to move.

And I didn’t have to wait long, because the moment I stepped out into the hall, she was waiting for me, patiently.

She came gliding out like a shadow pretending to be human, crisp uniform, short ginger hair immaculate as ever, and that same faint scent of pressed linen clinging to her. The maid, Anshur’s eyes flicked over me without warmth, and I could see the ghost of her earlier smirk still alive at the corner of her lips.

"What the hell was that?" I snapped, my voice sharper than I’d intended, but I didn’t care.

Anshur just looked at me, tilting her head in that maddeningly slow way, her copper hair catching the hallway light. "I don’t know what you mean, Ms. Smith."

I stepped closer, jabbing a finger at her chest (excuses to touch titties mostly).

"Don’t play dumb! You shoved me into the room, in the middle of her class. Like I was some clown who didn’t know what manners was, and YOU, told me to watch!."

"I only remember advising you not to enter." Her tone was steady, almost bored.

"That’s not advising, that’s coercing." I could feel my pulse hammering at my neck. "You shoved me in front of her tutor, in front of Hailie, like... Like you were trying to humiliate me. What the fuck’s your problem?"

She blinked once. "If you felt humiliated, that’s a personal matter, I was ensuring you didn’t disrupt the lesson."

I let a laugh that was anything but amused. "Oh, right. Because pinning me against the door frame and shoving me into the middle of the room is less disruptive."

Her eyes narrowed just slightly, enough for me to catch it. "You are unpredictable, Ms. Smith, and you’re impulsive. We all expected you to wander off to where you don’t belong."

"Better than being a manipulative control freak who treats people like they’re props in whatever C-drama or K-drama show you’re staging," I shot back.

The air between us seemed to thicken, my voice bounced off the hallway walls, and I was sure anyone nearby could hear us.

Anshur took a slow step forward, closing the gap between us until I could smell the faint trace of linen starch and something sharper, polished steel, maybe... Maids wouldn’t be happen to have knives, right?

"Be careful of your wording, Cory Jay Smith."

She used my full name, which I didn’t catch at the time.

"Oh, believe me, I do," I said, my words quick and heated. "You’ve been pulling this crap since I got here, those little ’accidental’ bumps, the comments under your breath, the constant hovering like you’re waiting for me to mess up so you can pounce. Well, congratulations, I’m officially messed up, happy? But I bet your little tattling snake-tail ass was not happy when Hailie saved me, didn’t cha~"

Her gaze was steady, unblinking. "You give yourself too much importance."

My ragebaiting failed, and her statement made something snap inside me. "Importance? You literally just made me a sideshow act in the middle of her lesson, and now you’re acting like it’s my ego that’s the problem?!"

We were locked in a silent standoff, tension buzzing in the narrow hallway, until the tap-tap of Eirlys’s heels rounded the far corner.

The eldest Sonder sister appeared in her usual silk-lined elegance, expression unreadable, and barely spared Anshur a glance before fixing her eyes on me.

"Cory?"

Eirlys’s voice cut through the air like a clean knife. I turned to see her coming down the hall, graceful as always, her pale snow hair catching the dim light. She looked between us, and though her face was calm, I caught the faint shadow of disapproval in her eyes.

"Get ready for dinner," she said simply. "Why are you in front of the musical room?"

"Because Anshur..."

I looked up, and saw that she waas glancing at me.

Then I looked back at Eirlys.

... Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have as much credit as a maid.

I swallowed hard, forcing a brittle "Fine," before pushing past Anshur without another word. My chest was tight, my palms sweaty, and I couldn’t tell if it was anger or adrenaline making my steps quicken toward my room.

I retreated to my assigned room. My belongings was moved and sat dormant, untouched in the corner, I don’t think I even dare to hang up posters just in case it ruins the aesthetic of the mansion.

"Let’s just... Take a shower."

I sighed, looking out to the darkened skies.

My old clothes are cleaned and hung, which was nice, I didn’t have to wear this stupid dress no more. So I picked up something half-decent and headed to the bathroom door.

It was when the door, which I swore I closed, closed again behind me... Because she walked in.

Before I could turn, I felt a sharp push between my shoulder blades. My body pitched forward, catching myself clumsily on the bed

I only barely manage to turn around to look at her freckled beauty when she was on me.

Anshur’s weight pressed me down, one knee on the mattress beside my hip, one hand gripping my shoulder. The other wrapped around my throat, not hard enough to crush, but enough to still every sound in my lungs.

"Gack...uak... I can’t- breat...he"

"You’re noisy," She murmured near my ear. Her breath was warm, laced with that faint herbal scent I hadn’t noticed until now. "You dirty sewer rat."

My pulse spiked.

This wasn’t the shove-in-the-hallway kind of intimidation anymore, this was an actual, criminal threat.

There was a deliberate slowness in the way her fingers curled against the side of my neck, a cold precision in how her body caged mine in place. My legs kicked once against the bedframe, but she pressed harder, pinning me with ease.

Deep inside, I knew if she had pull out a knife and slashed my face, I would have cum.

"I..." The word came out like a choke, more air than sound.

"You are a filthy little outcast who intrudes and dirties the place, I hate people like you the most." Her voice lowered, almost a purr. "You don’t know anything, and you don’t belong here."

I hated the way my body reacted, being pinned and degraded like this. With heat pooling in my chest, that strange, treacherous thrill at the closeness. The rustle of her uniform as she shifted her weight sounded unbearably loud in the quiet room, my breath came shallow against her palm, each inhale was a reminder of her control.

My hands gripped at the bedspread, not at her, not yet. I could feel the sweat starting at my temples, trickling down the curve of my jaw.

"Y-you’re insane," I rasped, more to convince myself than her.

"Maybe I am," her lips curved into something between a smirk and a snarl, "And maybe, just maybe, you won’t say anything about this, because I know what kind of pathetic sub-human you are."

She leaned in closer, and for one dizzying moment, I thought she might kiss me. Instead, her grip tightened, not crushing, but enough to make me shiver in that horrible, electric way I didn’t want to name. My vision pulsed at the edges.

I was this close to passing out.

"You’ll stop poking around," she said. "You’ll keep your eyes where they belong."

I could only nod with tears in my eyes.

And then, just as suddenly, the weight lifted. She straightened, looking down at me with that unreadable expression again. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, but her uniform was still immaculate. She turned on her heel without a word, leaving me on the bed like a side hoe she finished with and couldn’t stay for breakfast.

The slam of the door was like a gunshot, making my whole body jolt.

I lay there on my back, panting, staring up at the ceiling. My skin prickled with leftover adrenaline, every inch of me hyper-aware of the heat in my face and the restless tingling in my limbs. The bed smelled faintly of her; linen and some kind of clean citrus soap.

My pulse refused to slow. The more I tried to think about something else, the more I replayed the scene in my head... the angle of her gaze, the cool steadiness of her hand on my throat, the way her knee had pressed into the mattress beside me. It was infuriating, embarrassing, and worse than either, it was... tempting.

I shoved myself upright, running both hands through my hair. "Get it together, Cory," I muttered to no one.