Chapter 216: A servants dilemma.
’That silent predator and that rustic girl are irritants enough. I won’t add my own scheming sister to the list of pests he is forced to tolerate.’
She eventually reached the entrance to her private sanctuary, a heavy door of dark oak, intricately embellished with the Montgory hawk. Victoria pressed both her palms against the cool, smooth wood, taking a final, steadying breath that did little to actually settle her nerves.
Then, she shoved it open.
She stepped inside and allowed the door to swing shut with a soft, definitive thud, sealing the outside world away.
she made her way to her bed before sitting down and taking off her foot wear. She straightened her mouthwatering long legs, cracking her aching toes which had been forced to walk all afternoon.
’If she truly desires him, then sister or not, I must ensure the two of them never reconcile.’ Rather than laying back first to rest, she quickly began forming a plan to deal with her sister in the silence of the room.
’I will be the wedge between them. I’ll quietly reinforce every negative impression he has of her, highlighting her flightiness and her utter unreliability. I will see to it that every path she tries to take back to him is permanently barricaded.’ A grim sense of satisfaction touched her lips.
’ That way, Master won’t have yet another woman pestering him at his side... and honestly, if I could find a way to clear the rest of the board, it would be splendid.’ For a fleeting second, she indulged in a vivid fantasy, the Wolf King exiled back to whence she ca, the farm girl returned to her dirt fields, and Esralda being treated like no more than a servant.
If only she knew that the farm girl she thought lowly off was his landlord or that the so called whore was actually his most valuable retainer at the mont or that the servant she thought so lowly off had already made her way into the hearts of his children and wife, who knew what type of chaotic thoughts would be going through her head then.
’But knowing him...’ A sudden, visceral tremor raced down Victoria’s spine, a full-body shiver that made the fantasy pop like a soap bubble.
She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, not for warmth, but as if to contain the thrilling, terrifying awe that the thought of him inspired. ’I have no doubt he wouldn’t hesitate to kill then and there if I overstepped my bounds. If he caught trying to manipulate his circle or discard the people he has chosen to keep around...’ The re prospect of his displeasure was paralyzing. Yet, intertwined with that fear was an electric, much darker current of devotion.
A look of profound, dizzying infatuation erged on her face, softening her usually sharp features.
’ And yet...’ She thought, her words trailing off, Her eyes grew unfocused, gazing into the empty air. Her hand, still clutching her body, slid up to her own shoulder, gripping it with a force that bordered on painful. Her breathing grew shallow and rapid.
’I wouldn’t mind being punished by Master,’ she thought, the idea sending a treacherous warmth through her. ’Not at all. But to be discarded? To be made irrelevant and cast out from his side... that is the only penalty I truly cannot stand.’
She bit down hard on her lower lip, the sharp sting acting as a welco anchor to corral her wilder, primal urges back into their cage.
She forced air into her lungs, slow and deep, until the frantic thrum of her heart finally began to steady. The chaotic storm of jealousy and obsession settled into a cold, clear pool of determination.
’ in other to have master all to myself, not only do I need to lengthen my patience but I’ll also need to be cunning as well.’
’ Making myself indispensable should also be my priority as well but. After master takes over the viscounty, would he have anymore use for ?’ she pursed her lips at the thought. The idea of herself losing value to him sent a hurtful ache in her heart.
******
Down a separate wing of the sprawling mansion, in a room characterized by soft pastels, overflowing lace, and the heavy scent of rosewater, a very different kind of storm had settled.
"Honey, are you in here?" Lady Isabella’s voice was a gentle lody as she tapped softly on her daughter’s door. Receiving no verbal answer but sensing a presence within, she gently pushed the ornate door open and stepped inside, leaving the brightly lit, cheerful corridor for the dim, quiet stillness of the bedroom.
Night had fully claid the grounds by now. The last vibrant traces of the sunset had bled from the sky, replaced by a deep velvet blue punctuated by the first brave, piercing stars.
They twinkled outside the large bay window, though their cold light did little to illuminate the gloom of the room.
"Honey? Is sothing wrong?" Isabella, had gotten worried after not seeing her daughter at dinner, so she ca forth to see what the matter was with her.
Unfortunately, she felt her maternal heart constrict when she heard an unexpected sound coming from Inside. A voice that could’ve been mistaken for nothing if not for the fact that as a Lvl 3, she possessed extrely sharp senses.
When she stepped inside, her heart lurched once more. The scene before her was one of profound dejection. Esralda was seated atop her canopied bed, not reclining gracefully against the silk pillows as she usually did, but curled into a tight, defensive ball.
Her shoes lay discarded on the floor. She had drawn her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around her shins, and her head was buried completely in her lap. The elegant blue silk gown was a rumpled, ruined pool around her. And from this huddled form ca the soft, ragged, and utterly heart-wrenching sound of muffled sobs.
The sound made the scene physically painful for Isabella to witness. This wasn’t the performative crying of a minor frustration or a
denied request; this was the deep, shuddering misery of a wounded soul.
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