CHAPTER 21: LADY VIVIAN {II}

Rymora crumpled to the ground in a daze, her body stunned like she couldn’t comprehend what had struck her. Aria’s eyes widened in horror as she heard the woman’s voice drip out, cruel and cutting.

"In case you were wondering, I’m the one who had her assigned to you," Lady Vivian said, a wicked glint flashing in her blood-red eyes. She casually pulled a handkerchief from her small purse and wiped her palm, as if ridding herself of something filthy.

"A dumb maid who can’t speak or write? It was perfect."

She smiled, a venomous curve of her lips, as she continued, "What do you think will happen when the public hears that the King’s new pet beat her maid? Killed her even?" Her voice practically sang with malicious glee."If Zyren doesn’t kill you himself or banish you, the public’s disgust will be enough to bury you alive."

Aria remained silent, her eyes locked on Rymora, who had shakily lifted her head. The mute maid frantically shook her head in protest, trying to deny the accusation without words.

But she had barely moved when Vivian’s hand lashed out again, striking Rymora across the face with a brutal slap. The crack echoed through the room like a gunshot, and Aria gasped as she watched Rymora crumple back to the ground, blood streaming from her split lip. A small, chewed scrap of paper tumbled from her mouth, falling limply to the floor.

"Disgusting," Lady Vivian spat, her face twisted in revulsion.

Aria’s heart pounded furiously, though she couldn’t stop herself from sagging slightly in relief when she realized the bloody scrap was too damaged to reveal anything. Still, the sight of it stirred a deep, protective anger within her chest.

"What do you want?" Aria finally snapped, her voice rough with a mix of anger and frustration as she glared at the vampire, who, despite everything, looked sinfully beautiful and infuriatingly composed.

Vivian turned her gaze on Aria, her red eyes gleaming.

"Isn’t it obvious?" she drawled, tilting her head mockingly. "You work for me now. When I have no more use for you..." she trailed off, a sinister smile playing at her lips, "you’ll simply disappear."

Aria’s brows shot up before furrowing deeply in confusion. "If you’re just planning to kill me—"

"I’m not planning anything, girl," Vivian interrupted sharply. "As long as you don’t sleep with the King, you’ll live to see another day. Zyren is in love with me. We’re... on a bit of a separation at the moment," she said dismissively, her voice tight with disdain.

Aria didn’t care about the details. She scrambled to her feet, backing away instinctively.

"As long as he doesn’t force me, then of course I—"

"I don’t care!" Vivian hissed, her gaze sharpening dangerously. "Make sure it doesn’t happen, no matter what. Or you’ll wish you were dead."

Aria stiffened, nodding rapidly, forcing herself to stay calm even as every nerve in her body screamed for her to retaliate.

"Okay," she said tersely, aching to see the woman leave.

But Vivian didn’t move right away. Instead, she stood there, studying Aria intently, her crimson eyes sharp and searching, as though trying to peer through to her very soul.

"The less you touch him, the better for you," she said coldly.

Aria clenched her fists tightly by her sides to keep herself from screaming. The last thing I want is to be anywhere near him, she seethed silently.

Finally, mercifully, Vivian turned toward the door, casting a sickeningly sweet smile over her shoulder.

"I’ll see you at dinner, then," she purred, her earlier cruelty hidden behind a mask of false cheer, before slamming the door shut behind her.

The moment the door slammed, Aria muttered under her breath, her body trembling with fury.

"Bloody hag," she growled, too angry to keep silent but not stupid enough to say it aloud.

At once, she rushed to Rymora, who still lay motionless on the floor. Aria grabbed one of the flimsy cloth scraps from the wardrobe, hastily wetting it to wipe the blood from the maid’s battered face.

Rymora stirred weakly under her hands, and Aria felt a pang of sympathy tear through her chest.

"Are you okay?" Aria asked, though she already knew the answer. Her heart twisted when she saw the fire burning behind Rymora’s eyes, the anger and humiliation layered thickly over her pain.

Rymora opened her mouth as if to speak only to shut it the next moment almost like she remembered something she had forgot giving a tight nod instead.

Aria simply smirked not seeing a need to dive into what they would dove in later.

Carefully, Aria helped her to her feet, flinching at the ugly bruises already blooming on Rymora’s pale skin.

My reputation’s already halfway to hell, Aria thought bitterly. Not that it mattered. All it did was reinforce the truth: she needed to kill Zyren, and faster than she’d originally planned.

A week at most, she vowed silently, even as a sharp ache twisted her stomach, each breath reminding her of the brutal kicks she’d taken.

"Is there a doctor you can see?" Aria asked, noticing how Rymora nodded weakly but didn’t reach for a pen or paper. She was in too much pain to bother writing.

Aria understood perfectly. She helped steady her once more, then dragged herself toward the bed, collapsing onto it heavily, her arms wrapping tightly around herself.

Silence filled the room, broken only by the faint rustling of paper. She felt Rymora’s light touch against her hand, passing her a fresh piece.

"Would you like me to do anything before I leave? Maids and servants take their lunch and dinner in a separate hall. I’ll return immediately after Lunch," the note read in careful and elegant handwriting.

"No. You can go after washing your face," Aria murmured, hoping the cold water would help with the swelling, if only a little.

Another moment passed. She heard Rymora scribble again, then felt the paper pressed to her hand.

"You need to pick a dress for lunch and dinner," Rymora had kindly reminded her.

Aria barely glanced at the words before letting the paper flutter from her hand to the floor.

"I’m sick. I won’t be attending lunch," she said simply, her voice dull, her lashes fluttering shut as she buried herself deeper into the bed.

"Dinner too," she added stubbornly, unwilling to cross the boundary of putting on the humiliating scraps Zyren had dared to call clothing.

She heard Rymora pick up the paper and even heard her write on it and was just waiting to be tapped and given only to hear nothing but footsteps, moments before she heard the door being pulled open and slammed shut. It was clear that she had simply chose to leave.

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