{Third Person}
Julia’s gaze drifted more than once toward Alexander’s table, though she was careful each ti not to linger.
It was subtle—quick glances, easily missed by anyone not paying attention—but the tension behind them was unmistakable.
Each ti her eyes returned to her own table, her expression grew a little tighter.
Not long after, movent stirred again at the edge of the clearing. Zarek and Rowan erged from the forest.
Both were back in their human forms, their presence imdiately drawing attention. There were signs of exertion—sweat, dirt, but neither looked weakened.
If anything, Zarek looked energized, his expression carrying clear satisfaction.
It did not take long for the outco to be declared. Zarek had won.
The announcent was t with applause and approving murmurs. Zarek accepted it all with ease, his pride evident in the way he carried himself.
Rowan, as always, remained composed, offering no visible reaction beyond quiet acknowledgent.
With that, the Hunt was formally brought to a close.
One by one, people began to rise from their seats. As expected, the royal family moved first, their departure setting the tone for everyone else.
Amara stood as well, following the flow of movent. Soon after, she found herself once again in the sa carriage as Alexander.
The ride back was quiet.
Alexander had closed his eyes shortly after they set off, leaning back as though resting. Amara glanced at him once, briefly, but sothing about it told her he wasn’t truly asleep.
She didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned her gaze away and let the silence remain.
By the ti they arrived at the residence, Alexander opened his eyes and stepped out first without a word.
Amara followed shortly after, with Mrs. Woods helping her down from the carriage. As her feet touched the ground, her eyes instinctively followed Alexander’s retreating figure.
He was already walking toward his side of the residence without looking back.
Amara released a quiet breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Then she turned and made her way inside.
The mont she stepped in, a small blur shot towards her. Ginger.
The cat circled her legs before leaping lightly against her, letting out a soft, insistent sound. Amara’s expression softened almost imdiately as she bent down to pick her up.
"Did you miss that much?" she murmured, a faint smile finally returning to her face.
The heaviness from earlier eased, even if only a little.
—
At the Second Prince’s residence, the atmosphere was entirely different.
Zarek was in high spirits.
He lounged comfortably while a maid stood behind him, massaging his shoulders with careful hands.
A bottle of alcohol rested on the table in front of him, which he reached for occasionally, taking slow, satisfied drinks as he spoke.
"...you should have seen his face," Zarek said, a low chuckle escaping him. "He couldn’t even respond in front of everyone."
Julia sat across from him, listening. But she did not laugh or respond to any of his statents. She left him alone in the euphoria of his own world.
Her silence grew and lingered, which did not go unnoticed by Zarek in the end.
Gradually, the amusent on his face faded, replaced by sothing sharper. He turned his head slightly, studying her.
"Why so quiet?" he asked. "Are you feeling bad for him?"
Julia didn’t answer. She only glanced at him briefly before looking away again. The sight of him disgusted her, but of course, she couldn’t let that show on her face.
Also, she would rather remain quiet than speak her mind and provoke him. She didn’t have the energy to deal with him tonight.
Zarek chuckled, though this ti there was no warmth in it. He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping just enough to carry weight.
"Why would you feel bad for him?" he said. "Weren’t you the centrepiece that brought him to where he is now?"
Finally unable to hide her rage, Julia snapped her head back toward him, anger flashing across her face as she listened to his provoking words that made no sense to her.
"You’ve had too much to drink," she said coldly. Without waiting for a response, she rose to her feet. "I’m going to bed."
Zarek’s smile disappeared completely as he watched her leave. The mont she was gone, sothing in him snapped.
He slamd his glass against the table, and it shattered, the shards flying all over the place.
The maid behind him froze, her hands stopping instantly as fear flashed across her face.
Zarek turned his head slowly toward her. Then, without warning, he reached out and pulled her forward into his arms.
She stiffened, shock evident for a brief second before she quickly forced herself to calm. Her gaze dropped imdiately, her body going still as she avoided doing anything that might provoke him further.
Zarek picked up the bottle of whiskey and pressed it into her hands. "Drink."
She hesitated only for a mont, then she obeyed, taking a small sip. The bitterness made her flinch slightly, but she said nothing and tried to hand it back.
He pushed it toward her again, then leaned closer. With a low voice, he asked, "Would you like to be one of my concubines?"
The maid’s breath caught in her throat. For a mont, she didn’t know how to respond. Refusal was not an option here. Not with him.
Carefully, she said, "My lord... I am only a maid."
Zarek’s hand slid along her back, slow and deliberate. "That doesn’t matter," he replied.
A slight tremor passed through her, but she kept her composure.
"I already belong to you as a servant in your residence," she said quietly, choosing her words with care.
That seed to please him as a faint smile appeared on his lips.
He took the bottle from her and set it aside, his attention returning fully to her. His grip tightened slightly at the back of her neck as he pulled her closer, his actions rough and possessive.
The room fell silent around them, heavy with tension, as the maid endured without resistance, knowing that in this mont, survival depended on obedience.
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