Chapter 126: Displaced Aggression [2]

Lady Vivian didn’t hold back in the slightest from the way Xeera’s face snapped violently to the side, like someone had jerked her head with full force. The sound of the slap cracked through the room, sharp and brutal. A deep red bloomed across Xeera’s cheek, and her bottom lip split open, blood trickling down like a tap that hadn’t been properly shut off.

Xeera looked stunned, her body trembling slightly as she staggered from the impact. Harriet stared, her gaze locked on Lady Vivian with wary caution. The fury radiating off the vampire woman was enough to thicken the air in the room. If Lady Vivian had been angry enough to hit Xeera—her own chosen maid—then whatever she was angry about definitely involved Harriet too.

Still, Harriet didn’t move. She stood near the bed, rooted in place, not daring to approach or help. She had only just met Xeera, and there was no way she was going to put herself in the path of a vampire’s rage for the sake of showing kindness.

"How dare you!" Lady Vivian snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut steel. Xeera remained where she was, stunned and trembling, her lips parting as though to speak—but no words came. She was still reeling from the hit, still trying to understand what she had done to deserve it.

Her mouth opened and closed several times, the urge to explain herself overwhelming—but her survival instinct was stronger. She could feel that the tiniest word, the slightest motion, might set Lady Vivian off again. And she doubted she’d survive a second blow.

"How dare you!" Lady Vivian shouted again, her rage bubbling over with no sign of stopping. Her entire body seemed to vibrate with the sheer intensity of it.

"You didn’t show up for breakfast or make any attempt to contact the king, and now he’s spending time with his new pet!" Vivian screamed at both of them—Xeera, still kneeling, and Harriet, still silent.

Harriet lowered her head slightly, as if being reprimanded by a superior, though her expression was unreadable. Xeera kept her forehead pressed to the ground, teeth clenched, her whole body rigid as she tried to hold her anger at bay.

’What the hell does that have to do with us?’ Xeera thought bitterly. She had no idea how the king spending time with his pet was their fault, or what they could’ve done to prevent it. ’We literally just arrived! We spent hours preparing and arranging!’

The bitterness burned in her chest, but she said nothing. She kept her face hidden, whispering curses in her mind where they’d never be heard. She mentally spat on Lady Vivian, even as her body stayed low and obedient.

Harriet still didn’t speak, waiting in perfect stillness, braced for whatever came next. Her posture was rigid, composed—until Lady Vivian moved. She walked toward Harriet, her boots clicking against the stone floor with slow, deliberate steps.

Harriet braced herself—but instead of a slap, a hand landed on her shoulder. A cold, controlling grip. Lady Vivian leaned in close, her lips brushing Harriet’s ear as she spoke in a voice so low it was almost inaudible—meant only for Harriet.

"Your goal in this castle is to win King Zyren’s affections. If you ever forget it... I won’t remind you. It’s little Danny that’s going to pay for it," she whispered.

Harriet’s composure began to crack. Her lips parted slightly as her expression faltered, eyes slowly widening in horror. She nodded almost imperceptibly, showing that she understood.

Lady Vivian pulled away, satisfied with the fear she’d sewn into Harriet’s heart. She turned on her heel, her long cloak swishing behind her as she strode toward the door. With a final slam, the door closed behind her—leaving behind only silence and tension.

Xeera trembled where she knelt, trying to steady herself. Her lips were still bleeding. Her cheek throbbed, and she could already feel it beginning to swell. Slowly, she stood and shuffled to a nearby drawer, pulling out a small cloth to wipe her mouth.

But when she touched her lip and felt one of her teeth shift unnaturally—her heart dropped. One had been knocked loose entirely.

Her hands trembled as she wiped the blood, fury simmering behind her eyes as she turned a venomous glare toward the door. She cursed Lady Vivian in every language she knew, her rage fierce and silent.

Then she heard Harriet’s voice, calm and clipped, speaking without looking at her.

"Don’t even think about it. Her family is extremely influential and rich. She might not have a bloodline ability or be as powerful as the lords, but in terms of wealth and reach, they’re one of the most influential," Harriet said. "You know this."

Xeera blinked, taken aback for a moment. She lowered her head, speaking as softly as possible.

"I know my place, Lady Harriet. I wouldn’t dare do anything to Lady Vivian," she muttered, her voice flat with restrained emotion.

Harriet scoffed openly, shaking her head as she dropped back onto the bed, her legs dangling off the edge.

"You’re funny. What could ants like us possibly do to an elephant like her? She could crush us with a toe," Harriet said bitterly. Her tone left no room for argument.

Not that Xeera could argue, even if she wanted to. She nodded slowly, the cloth in her hand now stained crimson.

Silence settled over the room again, thick and heavy, until Xeera finally broke it.

"I’ll find out what happened... what’s going on between the king and his pet," she said. Her voice was hesitant but determined.

Harriet didn’t look at her. She gave a small nod, her eyes still closed, her expression unreadable as the door clicked open and shut behind Xeera.

Left alone, Harriet lowered her face into the bed sheets. Her hands clutched the edge of the fabric as she stared into the dark material. Thoughts swirled violently in her head, all of them circling one unshakable truth:

She needed to win the king’s affections. Somehow.

But how could she? The king hadn’t ever truly cared for the others. None of them had lasted—not until Aria. Aria had held his interest in a way none of the other pets ever had. Until she came along, the position had been nothing more than a death sentence.

’I guess I’ll have to kill her first. And fast. It’s the only way,’ Harriet thought. Her eyes snapped open, gleaming with a dark certainty. A calm, lethal confidence radiated from her expression.

The last thing she could have imagined was that miles away, in a quiet village Harriet called home, chaos had already begun. The people she loved were under attack.