Chapter 19

It took me over an hour to cleanse my body of the blood that clung to it, scrubbing the stains that trailed across the floor as if they had branded my every step. When the task was finally complete, I slipped into the nightgown prepared for me and collapsed onto the bed in my chamber. I longed for the reprieve of sleep, but rest eluded me.

The night was plagued with restlessness, haunted by nightmares that clawed at my sanity. This wasn’t the first time my dreams had been invaded, but these were different—sharper, more visceral. Every time I closed my eyes, Amara’s bloodied face loomed before me, her features twisted into an agonized grimace. She called my name, her voice cracking as she begged me to save her. But in the nightmares, I was always trapped—imprisoned behind bars, my hands bloodied from trying to claw my way out.

The third time I woke up screaming, I gave up on the idea of sleep. Instead, I lay awake in the suffocating silence of my chamber, staring into the darkness until the first rays of dawn crept through the curtains.

At 6 AM, I finally forced myself out of bed and stumbled to the basin. Splashing cold water on my face, I tried to ease the swelling around my eyes, though it did little to hide the exhaustion that clung to me like a shroud. With nothing left to occupy my mind, I perched on the edge of the bed, waiting anxiously for someone—anyone—to come for me.

I didn’t dare test the door. Stepping into the unknown corridors of this vast castle felt like an invitation to disaster. I couldn’t even decide if I was a guest or a prisoner. The uncertainty gnawed at me.

Why was I here? Was the silver-haired man—the one who haunted my thoughts—truly the master of this place? And why had he singled me out?

The questions spun endlessly in my mind. My thoughts drifted back to our first meeting. He had a chance to harm me while I was unconscious, yet he hadn’t. He’d pushed me away instead of indulging whatever dark urges might have driven him. Was it possible that he wasn’t as dangerous as I feared?

A soft knock at the door broke my spiral of thoughts.

“Y-yes?” I called out, my voice shaky.

“My name is Freya. I will be your personal maid. May I come in?” The voice was gentle, yet firm.

A maid? For me? I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or more unnerved.

“Come in,” I replied cautiously, sitting up straighter.

The door creaked open, and Freya stepped inside. She was younger than I’d expected, dressed in a neat black dress with thick straps layered over a high-collared white shirt. Her uniform was modern, a far cry from the gothic fantasies that had filled my imagination.

“Is something wrong, Miss?” she asked, her tone polite but curious.

I shook my head quickly. “No, not at all.”

She nodded and placed a neatly folded stack of clothes on the bed. “I’ve brought something for you to wear.”

“Thank you…” I murmured, instinctively curling my feet beneath me. She noticed right away.

“I’ll bring shoes to match the outfit as well,” she said, as though sensing my discomfort.

Her words and demeanor were calm, but I couldn’t shake the oddity of being treated like an honored guest. Freya must have noticed my hesitation because she let out a soft, amused giggle.

“I’ll answer any questions I can, Miss,” she said with a knowing smile, “but only after you meet the Master.”

Her response sent a chill through me. “When will I meet him?” I asked hesitantly.

“He has invited you to breakfast. Please dress quickly, and I will escort you.”

As soon as Freya left, I unfolded the clothes she’d brought—a light pink dress with a flattering fit. It wasn’t my style, but as I slipped it on, I couldn’t help but admire how it accentuated my waistline and made my legs look longer. I barely recognized myself in the mirror.

Freya returned with a pair of matching heels and led me through the castle’s endless corridors. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, casting golden hues on the polished floors. The space was far brighter and more elegant than the grim setting I’d envisioned.

Finally, we stopped in front of a set of grand white doors.

“This is where I leave you, Miss,” Freya said, bowing slightly. “You must enter alone.”

Before I could protest or ask for clarification, she had already disappeared back down the corridor.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the doors.

“H-hello?” I called out, my voice trembling as I stepped inside.

“Come in, Thalassa,” came a familiar, deep voice.

It was him. That voice, smooth and commanding, sent a chill racing down my spine. My heart pounded as I stepped fully into the room, taking in the sight before me.

The silver-haired man sat at the head of a long dining table, his piercing gaze fixed on me. The sunlight streaming in through the massive windows behind him gave him an almost otherworldly glow.

“Take a seat,” he instructed, gesturing to the chair opposite him.

My legs felt like jelly, but I managed to make my way to the chair. Before I could pull it out myself, Mr. Larkspur appeared, his movements efficient and practiced as he positioned the chair for me.

“Allow me to formally introduce Lord Protector Hadrian Kessler,” Mr. Larkspur announced with a flourish. “Heir to Kessler Castle and one of the five noble families of the vampire world.”

The weight of the introduction hung heavy in the air. I nodded stiffly. “It’s… nice to meet you.”

Hadrian’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Let us see if breakfast meets your standards,” he said, his tone dripping with mock courtesy.

Servants entered, laying an array of dishes before me—eggs, smoked salmon, pancakes, and more. It was an elaborate feast, far beyond anything I could have anticipated.

“Is something the matter?” Hadrian asked, arching a brow.

“No!” I replied quickly, shaking my head. “It’s just… a lot. I couldn’t possibly eat all of this.”

He leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening. “I wanted to ensure your… satisfaction.”

I swallowed hard, my nerves betraying me as I let out a shaky laugh. “Thank you. It looks wonderful.”

He chuckled softly before nodding at Mr. Larkspur, who bowed and exited the room, leaving me alone with Hadrian.

The atmosphere shifted immediately. Hadrian rose from his chair and began walking toward me, his movements deliberate and almost predatory.

He stopped just behind me, leaning down until his breath was warm against my ear.

“Now, my dear Thalassa,” he murmured, his voice dangerously low, “let me tell you what you must do… to satisfy me.”