Anaa
This was Cynthia's plan all along.
How do I get out of here without doing something stupid?
She had used something far stronger than a simple aphrodisiac—mixed with something unfamiliar. I couldn't place it, but my body recognized the danger instantly.
Water.
I needed water.
The bath.
I could rinse the towels, wash the drug away, clear my head—
My steps faltered.
I had overestimated my strength. The heat ignited fully then—an unbearable flame pooling inside my body, spreading fast, merciless. My knees buckled, and I hit the floor with a dull thud.
I wanted to scream.
I bit down hard on my arm, stifling the sound that clawed its way up my throat. My vision blurred. Every nerve felt too awake, too sensitive. I refused to acknowledge the burning pull between my legs—something I had never felt before.
I had to get into the bath.
With what little strength remained, I dragged myself across the floor. My fingers caught the edge of the tub. I pulled myself upright and, without thinking, collapsed into it.
Cold water.
Relief—brief, fragile.
At least my head didn't hit anything.
Elias
"Are you sure you don't want to stay longer than one night?" I asked. "We just arrived."
He had already informed the royal family that we would be leaving tomorrow—claiming there was nothing more to be discussed.
"You should at least know your bride," I continued. "Build some form of relationship before she comes north. And more importantly—you should be present at your own marriage."
"I don't need to be," he replied coldly. "She can be sent north after the ceremony."
Typical Lucas.
Once he decided something, even I couldn't sway him. He walked to his door without another glance and slammed it hard enough to make me step back.
I sighed. Just when I thought I'd escape castle duties, reality dragged me back.
I entered my own room—only to find a maid making my bed. She was so lost in thought, muttering complaints under her breath, that she didn't notice me enter.
"Is there a problem?" I asked.
She jumped.
"You should knock before entering someone's space!"
The moment she realized who she'd shouted at, her eyes widened in horror.
She bowed quickly and apologized.
Interesting.
Most maids would've been shaking.
"You seem deeply troubled," I said calmly.
"Oh, I am," she snapped. "If I don't complain, I'll explode. I don't understand why no one puts that witch of a lady-in-waiting in her place. How can she throw towels at a royal family member and order her around like trash?"
Royal family member?
Before I could ask more, she stormed out.
Curious.
Very curious.
Lucas
I entered my chamber, slamming the door just to spite Elias.
I hated this place. Humans disgusted me—especially those who believed power gave them ownership over others. The king offering his daughter like currency made my blood boil. He thought he held control.
He had no idea.
A sudden splash echoed from the bathing chamber.
I extended my senses.
Someone was here.
Strange—I could feel a presence but couldn't identify it. That had never happened before.
I opened the bathroom door.
The scent hit me immediately.
Aphrodisiac.
Strong.
Then she rose from the tub.
The maid from the grand hall.
Her clothes clung to her body, soaked, transparent. Her eyes were unfocused. Her face bore a scar—but now that I looked closer, it seemed… artificial.
She wasn't afraid.
She grabbed my shirt.
"Please," she whispered. "Help me."
I shoved her away—then cursed myself when my gaze landed on her hardened nipples.
My thoughts betrayed me, images flooding my mind. I swallowed hard.
This wasn't normal.
Something else was mixed into the drug—something magical.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, my voice thick with unwanted desire.
She approached again, pain etched across her face, slipping her hand under my shirt, brushing my skin. Electricity shot through me.
Enough.
I slammed her against the wall, gripping her throat.
"I can't sense your intentions," I growled. "Who sent you?"
"T-the towels," she gasped. "They were drugged."
She pressed herself against me.
Then she tore her clothes apart.
White skin. Full breasts. No shame—only desperation.
She guided my hand to her chest.
That was the last thread of restraint snapping.
I kissed her—hard, consuming—and she matched me without hesitation. I carried her into the main room, shut the bathroom door, stripped her wet clothes away.
Then I saw them.
Whip scars.
Real ones.
More across her back.
Anger flared.
Who would do this?
Why disguise herself?
Why did I care?
I told myself it didn't matter.
The night blurred into heat and hunger until dawn.
When it ended, I dressed quietly and left without waking her.
Elias would never let me hear the end of this.
Yet her face lingered in my mind—too vividly.
That drug carried magic. Subtle, dangerous.
This kingdom claimed to reject the supernatural.
Another lie.
I would marry the princess and take what I needed.
As for the maid—
I would leave someone behind to watch her.
Unharmed.
She might lead me straight to the truth.