Chapter 51: Red

The next morning, Aria was already awake before Rymora even stepped into the room. She sat on the edge of the bed, her expression blank, numb even, as her eyes followed Rymora’s silent figure walking across the room toward the wardrobe.

The maid didn’t speak as she pulled the doors open, revealing the garments for the day.

"Scandalous" didn’t even begin to describe what hung inside. The outfit resembled something that should be worn under clothing, not out in the open.

"That’s not going to cover my breasts," Aria pointed out, her voice dry but firm.

In response, Rymora merely gestured toward the open wardrobe with a wave of her hand, inviting Aria to choose something herself.

Though her expression remained soft and respectful, Aria could read the quiet fury beneath it. Her maid was still pissed at what she did the day before.

Not wanting to acknowledge it, Aria stood and walked toward the wardrobe, silently sifting through the garments. The more she looked, the deeper her frown grew.

After what had happened the previous day, she didn’t dare risk defying Zyren again. No one could predict his mood—not the servants, not even the other lords.

Her hand hovered over a crimson piece of fabric—a long wrap meant to be tied tightly across her chest. Next to it hung a skirt that barely reached her knees.

A year ago, wearing anything that didn’t cover her ankles had felt like an affront to her dignity. But now, anything that even touched her knees felt like a rare privilege.

Bathing was a quiet, joyless affair. Rymora said nothing as she washed and dried Aria’s hair, her movements brisk and efficient, devoid of the care she once took. She dressed her quickly, tying the red wrap tightly around her chest, making her breasts appear even fuller.

Aria’s skin itched with shame. Every fiber of her body begged to be covered, but there was no choice. Swallowing her discomfort, she left the room and headed for the food hall.

She wasn’t late, but she wasn’t early either. The lords were already gathered, seated in their respective places.

New servants scurried across the marble floors, their eyes wide with fear, shoulders stiff. No doubt aware of what had happened to their predecessors—dead, all of them.

Aria walked with measured steps, keeping her face calm despite the storm within. Her heart slammed wildly against her chest waiting for Zyren to arrive.

Then her gaze shifted to the right—and froze.

Lady Vivian.

Aria’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

She wore a long black coat that completely concealed her form, but it wasn’t the coat that drew attention—it was her hair.

Once jet black, it was now dyed the palest shade of red, shimmering under the chandeliers like woven fire. Delicate jewels laced through the strands, catching the light with every motion. Around her neck was an opulent necklace, its crimson stones rivaling the ones embedded in Aria’s collar.

Before Aria could dwell further on the reason behind Vivian’s dramatic appearance, Zyren entered.

The air shifted.

Every lord immediately bowed their heads, and Aria followed suit, lowering her gaze as he strode past.

He wore a lighter shade of wine-red today. A curious detail—but ultimately meaningless. She didn’t have the luxury to care.

Her entire focus was on preparing herself for what was inevitable.

As expected, it didn’t take long. Zyren raised a hand and gestured for her to approach.

Aria raised her head and moved to his side, her limbs stiff, her expression neutral.

Without hesitation, he pulled her into his lap, a smile playing across his lips—a cruel, self-satisfied expression.

"Red suits you," he said, voice smooth.

Aria nodded slightly, a weak smile touching her lips. She didn’t speak, choosing instead to turn her attention to the servant approaching with their meal.

But then she felt it—his arm, previously wrapped innocently around her waist, began to slide downward.

Slow. Deliberate.

Her body locked up, going rigid the moment his fingers crept toward her thigh.

Then, without conscious thought, her hand snapped out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

He didn’t look startled. If anything, his grip tightened.

"I hope you haven’t forgotten," he murmured, voice quiet but dangerous. "You have two more days."

His red eyes burned as they met hers. Aria barely glanced at him before flinching, a jolt of dread flashing through her chest at the sight of his exposed fangs.

Her instincts screamed at her to move, to jump off his lap and bolt—but she didn’t.

"I’m quite hungry," he added, tone dark and layered with implication. He wasn’t talking about food.

But before he could say more, Lady Vivian’s voice rang out.

"My King!"

Everyone turned as she stood, flipping her pale red hair over her shoulder with an air of practiced elegance, her lips curved in a charming smile.

"I just wanted to confirm," she continued, her voice louder than necessary, clearly meant for all in attendance. "Our blood session is today?"

Aria’s brows lifted, remembering what Clay had told her about strong vampires needing to drinking each other’s blood since human blood wasn’t enough.

"Today," Zyren replied, his tone dismissive, not even glancing her way.

Then his attention shifted back to Aria.

He leaned in closer, his breath brushing her ear as he whispered, "In two days, by the stroke of midnight, I expect you in my room. You will do exactly what you promised."

The chill in his voice deepened as he continued,

"I don’t care if you’re sick... unless you’re on the cusp of death, you will warm my bed like a proper pet."

His gaze locked onto hers. Aria couldn’t look away, the weight of his threat pressing down on her chest.

Still, she nodded. Then, forcing a smile, she turned back to her food.

The moment her face shifted away, that smile crumbled. She chewed slowly, her mind racing.

She couldn’t do it. There was no way she could go through with it—no matter how much she forced herself. The hatred inside her was too strong, too corrosive.

And now, with only two days left, she had to figure out not only how to kill him...

...but how to escape.

"Yes, my lord," she murmured, barely audible, still chewing, unaware of the way Zyren’s gaze lingered on her like a hunter tracking prey.

He was watching her closely—closer than before. And he intended to keep it that way.

Aria ate quickly, not tasting a single bite. The second breakfast was over, she made a move to slide off his lap, bracing for him to stop her.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he rose smoothly to his feet, his guards instantly falling into formation behind him.

He turned slightly as he began to walk away, casting a final comment over his shoulder.

"You may move around the castle. But you’re banned from covering up."

Then he left, his presence sweeping out of the room like a storm passing.

Lady Vivian instantly sprang up like a cat, pausing as she passed Aria, her eyes sharp with loathing, lips curling in a sneer before she turned and hurried to catch up with Zyren.

Everyone else remained standing, heads bowed until King Zyren had fully exited the hall.