Chapter 12
A few drops of blood splattered her face. She opened her eyes. The dagger was lodged in the Emperor’s chest. But not deeply. The tip barely penetrated his skin, quivering precariously before falling out.
Jia stared blankly at the falling blade, her face a mask of bewilderment. The Emperor was still smiling.
“I was right.”
His voice thrummed with exhilaration.
“This is the first time I’ve felt pain.”
His exhilaration bordered on ecstasy.
“Deeper. Stab me deeper.”
He pulled her closer, her limp body pressed against his. He placed the dagger back in her hand.
With trembling fingers, she stabbed him again and again, leaving only shallow cuts. Yet, he reveled in it. Her face became smeared with his blood.
Her strength gave out, and the dagger clattered to the bed. Breathless, she slumped against him, her dark hair spilling over his silver locks. She looked up, dazed.
“What’s your name?”
His eyes, bright with an almost feverish intensity, searched hers. Jia’s breath caught in her throat. His gaze held her captive, an invisible chain tightening around her heart.
“J-Jia…”
“Jia.”
He rolled her name around his mouth. Jia. Then he gently wiped the blood from her cheek with his fingertip.
“Now you are mine.”
Jia couldn’t speak. She simply stared at his beautiful face, numbly nodding as a strange pressure tightened around her, a sense of inevitability settling over her.
***
Her living quarters changed. She was given a room near the Emperor’s bedchamber. Jia didn’t understand the significance of this until later that day.
Restless, she wandered the halls of the palace. She was met with looks of scorn and contempt, and others laced with a strange, unsettling curiosity. Jia kept her head down, trying to ignore them. She could avoid their gazes, but not their whispers.
“That slave is staying in the Guinaicheum?”
“It’s been centuries, hasn’t it? Since His Majesty has been close to a woman…”
They were talking about her. While she trembled, unable to utter a word, Tristan drew his sword.
“How dare you servants insult His Majesty!”
The two maids, upon seeing the Straduvan insignia and the drawn sword, immediately fell to their knees.
“We’re sorry! We didn’t realize anyone could hear us…!”
“Your tongues are more venomous than a viper’s. State your names.”
“P-Please… Don’t tell His Majesty… We beg you, Sir Straduvan! Please, forgive us just this once!”
The two women knelt, pleading desperately. Jia felt a pang of pity and shook her head.
“I-I’m alright. Please, let them go…”
“They have insulted His Majesty. I cannot overlook this. Swan, take them to the dungeons.”
“Yes, sir.”
“No! Not the dungeons! Please! Please!”
The maids’ cries echoed down the hall as they were dragged away. Jia was shocked.
Being sent to the dungeons meant becoming the Emperor’s plaything, even if only for a few fleeting moments.
“…Is this… right?”
“The Straduvan family has the authority. Those who insult His Majesty can be summarily punished.”
Tristan’s tone was filled with pride, while Ethan, standing beside him, remained stoic. Jia looked at the hunting dog insignia on their chests, realizing it was their family crest.
The wolf symbolized Eustanville, and the hunting dog, the Emperor’s protector.
The realization of their power, their proximity to the Emperor, struck her with full force. The Emperor’s left hand… it hadn’t been an empty title.
This meant everything she said, everything she did, would reach the Emperor’s ears. She had been touched by their initial kindness, but they were ultimately the Emperor’s men.
I have no one on my side.
No one…
A wave of loneliness washed over her, leaving her feeling desolate and small in the vastness of the palace. She lowered her head, overwhelmed.
“Shall we return?”
Ethan, who had been silent until now, spoke softly. Jia nodded and turned back, this time without the burden of stares or whispers.
Yet, her spirits remained low.
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