CHAPTER 36: DOES HE KNOW?

There was anger simmering in Rymora’s eyes, and this time she didn’t bother hiding it. It burned steadily, rooted deep behind her gaze as she lowered her head and gave her mistress a stiff bow.

Then, without another word, she turned sharply and walked away, her footsteps clipped and heavy with tension.

She intended to have a word with Aria the second they were alone. There was no doubt in her mind—Aria had been completely taken with that young man.

Rymora could see it in every line of her body, in the softness of her gaze and the smile she tried to hide. And as much as she wanted to scold her mistress for being reckless, Rymora couldn’t entirely blame her.

Clay was... striking. Even she, who had long locked her heart away for someone else, found herself momentarily caught off guard by the sight of him.

That face—it should be illegal. It was the kind of beauty reserved for vampires, not human men, and yet he carried it like it meant nothing.

’For once, I regret pretending to be mute,’ Rymora muttered silently, her jaw tightening.

It had been a necessary lie, one that allowed her to slip into the mansion unnoticed. Her fragility, her silence—they were masks she wore to survive. But now, that very mask bound her. She had gone too far into the act. To suddenly speak would be to invite suspicion. No one would believe it. Not after all this time.

Frustrated, she quickened her pace, the hem of her skirt whispering against the floor with each furious step. Her mind raced with thoughts.

She needed to reach the servant’s dining hall, eat quickly, and return before anyone realized she’d been gone too long. She hadn’t been this close to the king’s inner circle before. The risks were higher now. One misstep could cost her everything.

And worse—her fate was now tied to Aria’s. That meant Aria’s mistakes would bleed into hers.

’I’ll write down everything I saw Clay doing with the others. Every detail,’ Rymora swore under her breath, rounding a corner with purpose.

She would protect herself first, no matter what. But just as the thought sharpened in her mind, she turned sharply—and slammed directly into something solid.

The impact stole her breath.

The force was enough to knock her off balance completely, sending her stumbling backward until she hit the floor hard. Her hands scraped against the stone as she tried to catch herself, the pain barely registering through the shock. She scrambled upright instantly, breath catching in her throat as her eyes lifted—and froze.

Her entire body went still. It felt like she had plunged into ice water.

She dropped to her knees with a dull thud, bowing her head low until her forehead pressed to the cold floor.

’L-Lord Drehk,’ she screamed inside her head, panic crashing through her like a wave. Her heart pounded against her ribcage so violently it hurt. Without thinking, she began hitting her head lightly against the floor in a desperate attempt to show respect, to avoid punishment, to survive.

Lord Drehk stared down at her, confused. He had been on his way to the meeting hall to speak with the king when the collision happened.

He’d expected an apology—a stammered explanation at least—but instead, the girl had fallen to her knees and pressed her head to the ground like a child begging for mercy.

He frowned, a sharp crease forming between his brows.

"Dumb?" he asked plainly, the single word hanging heavy in the air. It was the only thing that made sense. Why else would she remain silent?

She looked up quickly at that, just barely—and nodded with frantic energy, her wide eyes already filled with tears.

He stared at her, he wasn’t particularly interested in women and didn’t also any slaves, but there was something about the innocence in her eyes and her face that made him a tad bit interested.

He knew body language, especially since his family’s ability had to do with body aura and enhanced strength. The way her body trembled showed just how much she feared him, but he could also see that most of it was pretense, which surprised him.

’You must be brave to be able to act in front of me,’ he thought, staring at her wet eyes, which would have had anyone passing beside her, and ignoring her, especially since such fragile humans never lasted.

Rymora herself was aware of the image she portrayed, which was what usually saved her. She was still waiting for the lord to pass and ignore her, only to hear words that made her want to curse into the heavens.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked calmly.

She nodded quickly, a flicker of confusion in her tear-filled eyes.

"By nightfall, when you’re done with your duties, take a carriage and come see me," he said, his tone flat and unreadable. Then, without waiting for a response, he walked past her, his guards trailing behind him like silent shadows.

Rymora didn’t move. Not until the echo of their steps faded down the corridor.

Only then did she begin to rise, limbs trembling violently beneath her. Her heart beat so loud it echoed in her ears. Her legs threatened to give out beneath her.

’I don’t know what I did, but I messed up,’ she thought, dread crawling down her spine. Her stomach twisted as the same thought repeated itself, again and again.

’Does he know? Does he know?’

"People say I mess around with young women. There’s plenty of rumors," Clay said lightly, brushing his hand gently over Aria’s as they worked side by side to plant the seeds he’d brought.

"But I don’t. I can promise you that," he added, his voice more serious this time.

He was being careful—measured. He knew how quickly gossip spread in the mansion. He wanted her to hear it from him before her maid filled her head with half-truths.

"I can see why people would think so," Aria replied softly, her cheeks coloring as she looked at him and then quickly looked away.

She didn’t mean it cruelly. If anything, she couldn’t stop herself from blushing. Clay had that effect. She wasn’t used to looking at someone and wanting to keep looking.

He wasn’t like Zyren—Zyren was godlike, terrifying, too perfect. Clay was... human...gentle...real. Still too handsome, but in a way that felt human. His blue eyes were warm, not cold.

And the longer she stayed here, the more she wanted to stay.

But then—footsteps.

Heavy ones.

She tensed instantly, jerking back in fear. But when she turned, relief hit her like a breath of air. It was only Rymora.

Still, something was off.

Rymora’s eyes blazed. She didn’t say a word, but the anger rolling off her was almost visible. She stepped close, bowed beside Aria, and said nothing—but her meaning was clear.

It was time to leave.

Aria considered pushing back. She was the mistress, after all. But she knew Rymora was right. She had spent too long here already.

"I have to go," she whispered reluctantly, a note of disappointment in her voice she didn’t bother to hide.

Clay nodded. She could see it in his eyes—he didn’t want her to go either.

"Take care. You can visit anytime," he said, his voice quieter now. Then, with a quick glance around, he slipped a folded piece of paper into her hand and stepped back, bowing slightly.

Aria’s heart fluttered. She returned the bow with a small, warm smile and turned to leave. Her coat, still wrapped tightly around her, hid most of her body, though her legs remained bare beneath it. She didn’t care. For once, she felt... free.

Clutching the paper tightly, she hurried back, already planning to bathe quickly before lunch.

Behind her, Rymora followed closely.

Her anger hadn’t cooled. Not even a little.

If anyone had looked closely, they might have sworn they saw steam rising off her shoulders.

She was furious.