CHAPTER 34: LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT(1)

Aria was just about to ask what the blood tournament was when Zyren spoke again, casually lifting the fork he had been using to eat.

"You’ll find out what it’s about later," he said, his voice cool and dismissive.

Although the flippant answer made her stomach twist in frustration, Aria knew better than to argue—especially in the presence of so many watching eyes.

The oppressive presence of the lords and their slaves made everything worse.

Each collared neck, every vacant expression, all served to drain her resolve to speak drop by drop. The cold fear in front of Zyren they emitted was contagious, leeching into her bones until she could hardly think straight.

By the time she scraped the last remnants of food from her plate, Zyren had already stopped eating. He placed his fork down with finality, and the entire hall seemed to exhale in unison, servants and lords alike falling silent. It was clear that breakfast was over.

A breath of relief escaped Aria before she could stop it. But the moment was short-lived. Just as she began to rise, Zyren swept her up into his arms as though she weighed nothing.

Her relief vanished instantly, replaced with a swell of irritation that she dared not express. She wanted to walk—on her own two feet, like a person—not be carried like some fragile doll.

Everyone at the table stood and bowed as Zyren walked past them with her in his arms. Their silence was suffocating, eyes trailing after them like shadows. Aria could feel the weight of every gaze, sharp as needles.

The double doors to the dining hall shut behind them with a heavy thud. For a brief moment, the hallway beyond felt like freedom.

She took a breath and lowered her voice, knowing well by now that the only way to speak to Zyren without setting him off was gently—softly.

"Can... can I walk around the mansion?" she asked, her words quiet and hesitant, gaze firmly on the polished floors beneath them. "I’m tired of staying in my room," she added, her voice more sure this time despite the way her heart pounded against her ribs.

Zyren didn’t look at her as he walked up the stairs, but his voice answered, amused and cool.

"Did I ever command you not to walk around?" he asked, and Aria blinked in surprise. She had assumed, by how he always carried her back to her room, that he expected her to remain there like some caged pet.

Even more surprising was what followed: they stopped in the corridor right outside her room, and Zyren set her down like a knight delivering a princess from a steed. She blinked at him, wide-eyed.

"You are not to take off the collar," he ordered, voice sharp now, a clear contrast to the gentle way he’d handled her.

Then, with a flick of his coat, he turned to leave. The guards flanked him as he strode away. "Take your maid with you," he added over his shoulder, disappearing down the hall with the billow of dark fabric trailing behind him.

The second Aria stepped into her room, she wasn’t surprised to find Rymora already waiting. But instead of acknowledging her presence, she marched straight to the wardrobe and threw it open with an almost desperate motion.

Her eyes scanned the rows of clothing, hoping to find something more modest, more covering—more hers.

Disappointment struck like a slap. The skimpy outfit she currently wore was apparently one of the better ones Rymora had selected for her. Still searching, Aria froze when she heard the sound of scribbling behind her.

Turning, she saw Rymora hand her a folded piece of paper. Aria took it reluctantly and read the message.

"You can’t wear anything but what’s in the wardrobe. Zyren has killed others for less."

A heavy, hot annoyance rose in Aria’s chest. She turned back to the wardrobe and slammed it shut with a loud bang, then pulled her coat tighter around her frame.

Grabbing a string, she looped it tightly around her waist, cinching the fabric until it felt more like a second layer of clothing than a mere accessory.

Her legs and ankles were still painfully visible, but she swallowed her discomfort. She had more important goals.

"We’re heading out," she said flatly, voice hoarse but determined. "I refuse to stay in this room for a moment longer."

Every fiber of her being burned with the memory of her brother’s death. Her mission was clear—find a poison strong enough to kill Zyren, and make Bavon, that wicked doctor, suffer twice the pain he had inflicted upon her. Neither goal could be achieved from within these four walls.

But she had barely spoken when she heard more frantic scribbling behind her. Aria snatched the new note from Rymora with a sigh, already bracing herself.

"I wouldn’t recommend it. You might not realize it yet, but everyone will be trying to kill you."

That made Aria pause, her eyes narrowing. She’d expected danger, yes, but not such immediate hostility.

"Why? I’m merely a slave... I’m not even that—" she started, but Rymora shook her head vigorously and snatched the paper back.

"You are King Zyren’s pet. The closest thing to him right now. If you gain his favor, your rank could surpass the lords."

Aria’s heart skipped. She stared at the message in disbelief.

"Even more than Lady Vivian?" she asked, forcing her tone to stay neutral even though a thread of dread laced every syllable.

Rymora wrote quickly and handed the paper back again.

"Even more. He drank from you. He’s never done that with any of his previous pets."

The words made Aria’s stomach lurch. Was she supposed to take pride in that? Was being bitten supposed to be a badge of honor?

"Still," she said stiffly, pocketing the note. "Let’s go."

No matter what Rymora wrote, she wasn’t going to waste her time in this gilded cage. "They can’t openly hurt me," she added under her breath. "Zyren won’t allow it."

He might despise her spirit, but he wanted her body—that much she knew, and she would use it if she had to.

She stepped out of the room, ignoring the guards stationed at the door, and marched down the stairs. To her shock, the hallways were bustling. Servants moved but none dared to look her way. They scurried past like mice avoiding a cat, their heads bowed, their eyes averted.

Rymora followed behind, her silence total. Aria realized that in the open, her maid became truly mute. No scribbling, no signs—just quiet obedience.

Aria didn’t have a destination in mind. She wandered slowly, letting her eyes drink in every hallway, every turn and corridor. Each painting on the wall, every window with its velvet curtains, became a landmark. She was building a map in her mind—one that might one day lead to her freedom.

The medical wing came into view ahead. Aria’s body tensed involuntarily, stomach churning. No. She would not go there again.

She was just about to head right when Rymora suddenly pointed ahead. Surprised, Aria glanced at her, raising a brow.

Though she didn’t trust anyone, Rymora’s secret—whatever it was—meant she was unlikely to harm her. So, after a heartbeat of hesitation, Aria nodded and followed where the girl led.

The moment she stepped through the towering arched doors, her breath caught in her throat.

The sight before her was enough to silence every thought in her head.

A garden. But not just any garden—it was magnificent, almost otherworldly. Flowers of every color. Vines curled around ornate marble statues, and rare trees towered above, their leaves shimmering with iridescent hues. The scent of jasmine, lavender, and something unfamiliar and intoxicating filled the air.

Aria’s steps slowed until she was standing still, frozen in awe. The garden was vast, stretching beyond what her eyes could immediately grasp. It felt like stepping into a dream, a place untouched by the darkness of the mansion beyond its gate.

She walked forward slowly, reverently, weaving her way between shrubs and rows of blossoms. And then—she stopped, utterly still.

Her heart thudded in her chest, not with fear this time, but something else. A flutter, gentle but persistent.

Someone stood at the far end of the garden, half-turned, the soft breeze toying with their hair underneath the hat they wore

Aria’s breath hitched.

Who was he? And why did the sight of him make her pulse rise?