Chapter 24

Freya assured me that I could explore the castle freely. To help, she even sketched a simple map so I wouldn’t get lost if I decided to take a stroll. Fortunately, after spending an entire day wandering those seemingly endless corridors, I’d managed to familiarize myself with a few key areas. At least now, I could reliably locate the dining room where I’d shared breakfast with Hadrian and the patio where fresh air offered a welcome reprieve. Most importantly, I could return to my chamber without losing my way—a small but significant victory.

Despite the castle’s grandeur, it didn’t take long for the novelty to wear thin. Within hours, I found myself stifled by the monotony. Everyone else seemed to have a purpose, some task to occupy their time, while I was left adrift. Idleness had always been my nemesis, and while I thought a break from work might be restorative, the abundance of unstructured time only worsened my restlessness. The quiet allowed too much room for unwelcome thoughts, dragging me deeper into a spiral I wasn’t prepared to face.

I’d read that people who endured trauma often sought out therapists to help confront their inner demons. My only available confidant was Freya—a half-vampire I wasn’t yet sure I could trust. For now, self-diagnosis seemed safer than baring my soul to a stranger. But based on the limited knowledge I’d gleaned from psychology books, I was far from "normal." I wasn’t grieving; I was angry. Years spent running and refusing to connect emotionally with anyone had seemingly left me broken beyond repair.

Sometimes, I even wondered if I was teetering on the edge of sociopathy. Each time I reflected on what had happened, guilt gnawed at me—not because of the event itself, but because I couldn’t seem to cry over it anymore.

Sitting idle in my chamber was unbearable. Needing a change of scenery, I grabbed my laptop and headed to the patio. I found a quiet bench shaded by a magnolia tree, planning to browse stock market updates and financial reports under the guise of relaxation. Just as I began to settle into the serenity, a sharp, abrasive voice shattered the peace.

“Who the hell are you?”

I glanced up from my screen, my patience already thinning. Standing before me was a young woman—blonde, tanned, and likely in her mid-twenties—clad in a short white dress with a plunging neckline. Everything about her screamed ostentation and entitlement. From her tone alone, it was clear she was human, likely some wealthy socialite angling to become the High Lady. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have given her a second thought, but today I needed a distraction.

“Hi! I’m Thalassa. Nice to meet you,” I greeted her with a deliberately pleasant smile.

“I didn’t ask for your name! I asked what you’re doing here!” she snapped, her voice dripping with disdain.

I chuckled, meeting her glare with a calm, unwavering gaze.

“First of all, lower your voice. You’re standing barely two meters away, and I have excellent hearing. Second, it’s polite to introduce yourself before launching into an interrogation,” I said, my smile sharpening into something colder.

Her expression faltered, her lips twitching as she grappled with a response. It was almost amusing watching her struggle, as if the effort of stringing together a coherent sentence was too taxing. Finally, she managed to sputter, “I’m… Briar. Briar Emberlin. Now, tell me, what are you doing here?”

Her tone had softened slightly, though her arrogance remained intact. Her barely veiled hostility suggested she’d already deemed me an enemy, probably because I existed in proximity to Hadrian. Her territorial posturing was almost pitiable.

“I’m staying here as the Lord Protector’s guest,” I said with feigned nonchalance. “I’ll be around for a while, so I suppose we’ll be seeing each other often.”

Her eye twitched, her composure visibly fraying. She was barely containing the fury bubbling beneath the surface. I considered prodding her further—it would’ve been so easy—but restrained myself.

“And you must be one of the donors?” I added, my tone laced with mock innocence.

“I am much more than that!” she snapped, her face flushing. “Soon… soon, I’ll be—” She trailed off, floundering for the words to complete her declaration.

I arched an eyebrow, curious if she intended to claim aspirations to the High Lady title. For a fleeting moment, I almost felt sorry for her. If clinging to such an impossible dream gave her life meaning, who was I to shatter her delusion?

“Oh, I see,” I said with an exaggerated nod, pretending to acknowledge her supposed importance.

“Yes, well… now you know I’m someone important here,” she huffed, lifting her chin defiantly.

It took every ounce of restraint to suppress my laughter. Still, I silently thanked her for brightening my mood. With my spirits unexpectedly lifted, I decided to return to my chamber to work. I stood, preparing to leave, when Mr. Larkspur strode onto the patio.

“Hey, blood bag! Why are you bothering the Lord Protector’s special guest?” he sneered at Naia.

Her face crumpled, and without a word, she turned on her heel and ran off, tears streaming down her face.

“Look at that—you’ve made a child cry,” I said, clicking my tongue in mock reproach.

“A child? She’s older than you!” he retorted with a smirk.

“Perhaps, but her mental age can’t be more than ten,” I replied, matching his smirk.

“You’re no saint. Don’t pretend you’re above it. You’re as vicious as I am,” he said, his tone dripping with dry amusement.

“I’ll take that as the highest compliment, Mr. Larkspur,” I said, offering a mock bow.

He clicked his tongue again, this time with exaggerated disdain, before clearing his throat and heading toward the main building. I picked up my laptop and followed, but as I drew closer, he abruptly stopped and turned to face me.

"I find human women utterly pathetic and far too arrogant," he remarked abruptly, his tone sharp and dismissive.

I glanced at him, curious about the motive behind this latest insult he’d conjured.

"Every single one of them who signed the contract with the Master foolishly assumed they’d end up as his concubines in some sort of royal harem," he continued, his voice dripping with mockery.

"Can you blame them?" I replied, stepping into the castle’s corridor. "The Lord Protector does have the allure of a Prince Charming. I wouldn’t be surprised if his looks were a major factor in their decision to lock themselves away in this castle and offer him their blood. Deep down, they all hope for something more."

"How insolent of them!" Mr. Larkspur snapped, quickening his stride to match mine. "The Master is a noble! He could never sully himself with a relationship involving a lowly human!"

His words grated on me, though I clenched my teeth to keep my expression neutral. I’d already pieced together the logic of it—a noble vampire like Hadrian, capable of continuing a prestigious bloodline, would inevitably be expected to form a union with another noble vampire. It was one more reason why I needed to leave this place before my emotions spiraled any further. And yet, humans are stubborn creatures, clinging to hope even in the face of impossibility. Perhaps that was why I needed to hear it spoken aloud.

"Does the Lord Protector plan on getting married?" I asked hesitantly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"The King has long wished for the Master to marry his daughter, Princess Selene Thorne," Mr. Larkspur replied with a sigh. "But the Master has never acknowledged the engagement. Still, it might become unavoidable at some point. There aren’t many options, and the Princess is currently at the ideal age to conceive an heir."

The words stung more than I cared to admit. I’d expected something like this—perhaps worse—but hearing it still left me aching in ways I couldn’t quite explain. My emotions were becoming an unbearable nuisance, growing stronger and more unwieldy with every passing hour. It made no sense. I barely knew Hadrian. What right did I have to feel hurt?

I knew he had no reason to see me as anything more than another human passing through his world, yet my feelings betrayed me. It was as if the very air in this castle had some intoxicating quality, an invisible drug clouding my judgment and poisoning my resolve. I’d never acted so irrationally, so foolishly, in my entire life. It was humiliating.

The rest of the day passed in quiet solitude. My meals were brought to my room, and Freya was my only companion. The stillness gave me too much time to regret neglecting my work. Hadrian remained absent, reportedly out all day. When I woke the following morning, I learned he’d returned late in the night but had immediately locked himself in his study.

Breakfast was another lonely affair in my chamber. It wasn’t just that I found myself yearning for Hadrian’s presence; it was the gnawing loneliness that had begun to take hold. I’d spent most of my life alone, yet now, each passing hour without someone nearby felt suffocating.

My brooding was interrupted by Freya’s sudden arrival. She burst into my room, looking paler than I’d ever seen her, her hands trembling violently.

"The Lord Protector… he summons you to the audience hall," she managed to stammer, her voice uneven and filled with unease.

"Fine, I’ll go. But why are you so frightened all of a sudden?" I asked, frowning at her unusual demeanor.

Freya hesitated, her eyes wide with worry as she grasped my hands.

"A group of werewolves has arrived," she whispered, her voice shaking. "They claim they’re here for you!"

I froze.