With a resigned shudder, Lucrezia's eyes fluttered in a dreamy wave, but her apprehension was far greater.
She could still feel the lingering effect of something ominous in the air, preventing fatigue from monopolizing her consciousness.
But at that same time, her thoughts wandered to her past life. By this time, she'll be wide-awake, sitting at the stool near her window, watching the world asleep. Sometimes when she found it hard to bat an eyelid open, Madelyn either reads a book or prepares something soothing for the night's rest.
However, no matter what she did, sleep never came.
There was a time when she caught something moving in the dark. Something bizarre, like some maelstrom at the top of the hill. It was quick and abrupt, rapid to deceive the eyes but Lucrezia knew what she saw.
It was just one time, but that time left those eyes that haunted her; that caw of a familiar red-eyed raven.
When she told Madelyn, the young woman only brushed her off with a playful grimace, saying it was only her imagination. Just like any typical person would.
Lucrezia had lived knowing everything she saw was only imagination, however, she held the belief in it. On a usual day, it retained her sanity.
And a soft sigh escaped her lips.
The cold night breeze escaped through the open windows, flickering the flames in the hearth and the torchlight dancing to its pressure. It was a like lure, and a small yawn escaped her lips.
When Lucrezia closed her eyes in search of sleep, the image of that first those beautiful hazel eyes appeared before her, and a quiet gasp slipped past her lips as her eyes snapped open.
Her heart thudded wildly against her chest, a mixture of wonder and fear as she sat up, her back leaning against the headboard, drawing her blanket to her chest.
Those eyes… and she blinked, trying to shake off the vision, but it was as if those eyes had been imprinted on her mind.
She knew she shouldn't fantasize about them, but internally, it was impossible. How can such... Lord, possess such eyes that were deeply enthralling? Lucrezia could admit she had never seen any look that way.
To the young Lord who has now become her husband. A creature made by the Devil's bone called a Sin.
From what the tales and rumors she heard, these Sins were terrifying, and she couldn't agree less. For someone who's a Sin, designed by Lucifer himself, he was as dangerous as well.
Centuries ago, in a land where countless creatures thrived side by side, three races rose above the rest—Dragons, Mages, and Nephmirs. They were feared as the deadliest weapons among the living but power corrupted them. Dragons scorched the skies in wrath, Mages bent magic to their selfish desires, and Nephmirs twisted fate itself, reshaping the future to their will. Their unchecked dominion splintered the world.
In desperation, the Realm turned against them. One by one, the mighty races were hunted, banished, and destroyed. Yet even after their downfall, peace never came. The surviving kingdoms waged war upon one another, leading their breeds down the same dark path. As punishment, Hell unleashed the Seven Deadly Sins, each bound to a kingdom: Vladoryn, Norwynne, Vixemoor, Wyrmgarde, Eirendale, Thendral, and Vexthorn.
As punishment from Hell, these creatures perform terrible things to the lesser kinds; Humans, Werewolves, Elves, Faes, Demons, Vampires, and merfolk. In one way or the other, death was prominent in the lands of these very Lords.
And she was betrothed as Vixemoor punishment, a fate that was to be for her step-sister.
Lucrezia wondered what life would be for her from now onwards. She knew she had to keep her true identity or risk her mother's safety. There, she's known as the witch but here, as the Lady of Dreadwyn, and that thought sent goosebumps down her skin.
If he finds out about Vixemoor's petty play—Lucrezia couldn't help but think of the possibility—House Barthory would perish. And not just that... their kind would suffer.
Yet at that same time, Lucrezia couldn't help but think otherwise; her life choices. Although this fate wasn't her choice, it could be what she was born for. To be controlled and live under a disguise. A part of her still wishes for that freedom misused by people. Even if it was for a day.
Another yawn escaped her lips and her eyes fluttered in a dreamy wave. As long as she takes the drugs—which she did earlier—it reduces the chances of finding out about her curse.
Lucrezia didn't notice the exact moment her consciousness began to fade and her thoughts grew hazy. The drug had started to take effect, lulling her toward sleep. And after battling it for so long, she finally gave in and drifted into slumber.
But she dreamt. A nightmare, to be precise.
It was one cold night, just like always, when a girl, dressed in a simple white frock, stepped through the shifting air in the forest. The frost bit deep into her skin, but the only pain she felt was one within her chest.
The world looked abandoned, but beyond, a castle ahead loomed like a mirage of bones, spine, and blackstone walls from a jagged cliff. The narrow towers extended like spines from an ancient beast, shrouded and buried deep in the dark sky, churned with bruised clouds and lightning—a swirling mass of violet and iron—flashed through and across, and roared through the cliffs like the growl of a waking beast. It was ethereal, magnificent yet terrifying at the same time.
For the first time, the girl moved, walking towards it, drawn by a pulse that beat in rhythm with her own if it was calling her. Seeking her name.
For a while, she ventured, until an unsettling caw broke the stillness of the night. The girl seized a breath and paused, looking up, catching the sight of a raven.
It cawed again, ducking and swerving in a threatening manner, and her heart throbbed viciously against her ribs. Just when it couldn't get more worse, the raven twisted, and its red eyes found her.
And something moved.
From somewhere within, a sound—rather tremor from earth—rose like thunder clapping the sky, calling her name in a voice that was unmistakably her. The girl swerved in that direction, following the second pull that seemed to draw her, and that was when she saw them.
The people after her. Shadowers, clogged in an ebony cloak emitting shadows and black magic. Magic so strong she could sense from a distance, as they rode towards her direction by horses that didn't look like one. They appeared like beasts.
T-They were here. T-They f-found her…
Without precision but motive, the girl broke into a chase, changing path from the castle to the forest.
The hem of her dress snagged and tore through the forest, dragging against the gnarled roots and broken sticks that littered the path, yet she cared less. The desperation in her pace and burst of breath told the tale.
Twigs snapped beneath her bare feet, slicing the girl's skin and with every step, she left smears of blood. With the air heavy with something dark and weary, she kept going, but that traumatizing caw pursued after, trailing her from above.
N-No, no, no, no…
The forest felt endless, looping on itself as she paced deeper and faster, ducking under the thick canopy of leaves, in the hope of getting rid of that raven. But the more she did, the more it found her, trailing in whatever direction she found herself.
Worse, the more she ran, the more familiar the trees became until she realized she had passed that same twisted trunk three times already. The forest wasn't letting her go but turning her into circles, wearing her strength, and at the end, feeding her to them.
No…
Just when she thought she could escape, a cripper caught hold of her foot, dragging her weight to the ground. A soundless groan tore from her throat, peeling away to the pain at her chest when she tried to sit up, but it was already too late.
They were here… An army of them.
Though the night was dark, they held torches burning with something that didn't look like flames, outlining their faces totally shrouded in darkness, something the girl couldn't see even with the illumination. She couldn't see their faces. However, at a far distance, from the jagged cliff, someone watched her.
Those bright scarlet eyes gleamed like blood and darkness, palpating his entire being as one hand held a staff of a raven's head. His long ink ink-dark hair moved in accord with the wind, carrying the hem of his cloak, and his face, blackened like stone and heavy scars, remained unreadable as he said stiffly on something; something she knew but couldn't remember.
He didn't move. Didn't utter a word, but the atmosphere changed. It was at that moment that Lucrezia felt excruciating pain in her chest and looked down, finding a dagger in her chest.
Before she could recover, those bright scarlet eyes appeared before her. It was quick yet excruciatingly slow as he stretched his hand to reach it; to get her beating heart.
Struggling to look beside, there was a mirror, revealing their side reflection. But what she saw wasn't who she thought it was. The person holding her, trying to reach her heart was no other than her.