CHAPTER 59: IF THIS IS THE END...

But they had just returned to the room when Rymora immediately crossed over to the table, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen.

"Behave! If you please King Zyren, you’ll have anything you want," she scribbled, then handed it to Aria, who only glanced at it while undressing.

Rather than step into the tub, Aria chose to wipe herself down with a cloth warmed by steam, as if trying to keep some control over the body that felt more and more like it didn’t belong to her.

Rymora, still frowning, grabbed the paper again and wrote more quickly this time.

"Do you know the rumors about you? Some are calling you a dead corpse walking."

She smoothed the paper out on the bed where Aria couldn’t ignore it if she tried. But once again, Aria gave it only a fleeting look before turning her gaze back to the mirror.

She stared at her reflection silently, eyes tracing the shape of her face as if searching for someone she used to know. Her hands moved numbly as she began putting on the clothes laid out for her—clothes that made her skin crawl, clothes she longed to rip to shreds. But she wore them anyway.

Rymora, now visibly agitated, kept scribbling until the force behind her pen made the nib tremble on the page. But just as she was about to write again, Aria finally spoke.

"I’ll behave," she said softly, voice stripped of its usual defiance, her expression as genuine as she could make it.

"I promise. And I know I made things harder for you," she added, her tone low but clear, knowing well enough that the servants were already whispering about her—how she was the one who’d poisoned Zyren.

"I won’t do something like that again. I’ve learned my lesson." Her fingers fumbled with the edge of her dress, smoothing down the fabric of the flowery gown she would’ve preferred covered every inch of her skin. "I’ll behave," she repeated, barely more than a whisper.

There was something in her voice—a hollow sadness—that made all the fire Rymora had been stoking inside herself die instantly.

Without another word, she put the paper aside and released a long, steadying breath. She nodded quietly and moved behind Aria, fingers working to tie the ribbon of the dress in place.

The black collar around Aria’s throat stood out starkly against the soft pink roses of her gown and the deep red of her hair, a contrast that made her almost unnaturally striking. Even Rymora paused for a moment, her breath catching slightly in her throat at the sight.

’All you have to do is seduce him long enough until he’s bored of you and you’ll survive,’ Rymora thought grimly, reaching out to begin styling Aria’s hair. But Aria stopped her with a small shake of her head.

"You don’t have to help me...or come back after dinner," Aria said, her voice even and quiet. When Rymora gave her a puzzled look, she explained further.

"I’m going to Zyren’s chambers. He ordered it."

Rymora stilled, then nodded with a knowing expression. She didn’t reach for the pen or paper this time. There were no more questions to ask. Besides, she too had somewhere she needed to be tonight—somewhere she would rather not go, but had no choice but to show up.

Soon, it was time for lunch.

They didn’t speak much as they walked toward the hall, each absorbed in their own thoughts. As always, Aria took her place on Zyren’s lap while Rymora moved to her designated post near the wall.

Aria was quieter than she’d been even at breakfast, pushing food around on her plate as she tried to keep her head down and her breathing even.

She’d barely taken a bite when Zyren’s hand slid onto her thigh.

It tightened around her waist slowly, deliberately, sending a jolt through her that made her stiffen. Her eyes flicked to him in confusion, questioning—but his face remained unreadable.

"There’s no reason for you not to come to my room tonight," he said, his voice a low, hungry rumble. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable, and it terrified her.

Aria shifted slightly, trying to move away from him—only to freeze as she felt the unmistakable press of his arousal beneath her.

Zyren continued to eat like nothing was amiss, while Aria felt like she was chewing gravel. She forced herself to smile, just barely, her voice trembling with restraint.

"I just need... a little time to prepare."

Zyren blinked, visibly caught off guard by her unexpected compliance. For a heartbeat, he studied her in surprise, then leaned in and whispered directly into her ear.

"As long as you present yourself to me by midnight."

Aria nodded quickly, lowering her head in submission, pretending to be as meek as possible even as her heart thundered inside her chest.

Lunch dragged on, but dinner was worse—more suffocating, more delicate.

Zyren’s eyes were on her the entire time. He didn’t even try to hide it. From the first bite to the last, it was as though he was stripping her bare with his gaze.

A little more and he might as well have done it literally.

The moment the meal was done, Aria got up, walking as fast as she could without looking frantic. She didn’t stop until she reached her room. As soon as she stepped inside, she slammed the door shut and leaned against it, her chest heaving.

Her face was flushed, her hands trembling. She was terrified.

"Am I even... is this a good plan?" she whispered into the silence. Her voice cracked slightly, and her eyes burned as tears threatened to fall.

If this plan failed, if Clay had set her up... the punishment wouldn’t just be death—it would be humiliation, pain, torture.

But the alternative?

Sleeping with the man who had killed her father and brother—and what frightened her even more was the creeping thought that she might enjoy it.

The idea made her want to claw off her skin until there was nothing left but pain.

She was still teetering between fear and second thoughts when one hot tear slid down her cheek.

She wiped it away quickly, jaw tightening.

"If this is the end... then I’d rather die fighting," she said aloud, as if trying to convince herself.

Her hand reached for the collar around her neck.

Fingers trembling, she unclasped it and let it fall to the floor.