Chapter 25

Aurelia navigated the castle corridors, her heart a lead weight in her chest. Tonight's destination: the grand dining room, and a dinner with – the king. The beautiful dress she wore felt more like a cage than an adornment. Betsy and Agnes had taken their sweet time fussing over her, Betsy's assuring smile as false as the rouge they'd slapped on her cheeks.

Two hulking guards, their expressions as stoic as stone statues, flanked the enormous oak doors. One of them pushed them open, revealing the vast familiar space of the dining room. A crackling fire cast flickering shadows on the walls, momentarily mimicking the turmoil within Aurelia.

Samael stood with his back to her, his imposing figure framed by the roaring flames. Their golden glow mirrored the unsettling intensity of his eyes. Lord Leviathan stood beside him, a stark contrast in his relaxed demeanor. As Aurelia entered, Leviathan's gaze shifted towards her, a slow, enigmatic smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

With a practiced grace, Aurelia curtsied, the movement a sharp reminder of her subservient position. Samael finally turned, his eyes leaving the mesmerizing flames to settle on her. The first thing he noticed was the telltale bruise blooming on her cheek, a stark reminder of her earlier mishap at the stables. Damn that door, she cursed silently. Betsy's attempt at covering it with makeup was a laughable failure.

Before Samael could speak, Leviathan stepped forward, his voice smooth as velvet. "Well, this certainly adds some… intrigue to the evening," he said, his gaze flitting between Aurelia and the King. A slow, infuriating smile spread across his lips. "If you'll excuse me, Your Majesty, I wouldn't want to intrude on your… dinner conversation."

He inclined his head towards them both, a hint of amusement lingering in his eyes. "Enjoy your meal," he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

With a final, lingering glance at her, Lord Leviathan bowed towards Samael and swept out of the room. The heavy oak doors swung shut behind him with a thud, leaving Aurelia alone with the King and the crackling fire, the silence thick with unspoken tension.

Samael's silence stretched, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, he moved. With a predatory grace that sent a jolt of unease through Aurelia, he strode towards her. His imposing stature loomed over her as he stopped mere inches away, the heat radiating from his body a palpable presence.

Aurelia met his gaze unflinchingly, her emerald eyes sparkling with defiance. Fear flickered within her, but she would not let him see it. He might have taken her freedom, but her spirit remained unbroken.

Samael tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes narrowing in a way that sent shivers down her spine. Then, with a swiftness that surprised her, he reached out a hand. His long, strong fingers brushed against her cheek, the touch sending a pain to her cheek. She clenched her fist glaring at him.

His touch lingered, his thumb gently tracing the outline of the fading bruise. The telltale smudge of makeup smeared onto his skin like a tiny, defiant flag.

"How did you manage this?" he rumbled, his voice a low murmur that seemed to vibrate through her entire body.

Aurelia held his gaze, her jaw clenched tight. "An accident, Your Majesty," she replied coolly, her voice betraying none of the turmoil within.

"An accident," he echoed, the single word laced with a sardonic amusement. "Intriguing." He drew his hand back, his eyes holding hers captive. "Were you attempting a particularly enthusiastic curtsy, or did you perhaps take a tumble down to the ground?" The corners of his lips twitched, a hint of a cruel smile playing there.

Aurelia gritted her teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. "Neither, Your Majesty," she countered, her voice steady. "It was a simple mishap."

Samael's smile widened, the amusement in his eyes turning into something colder, sharper. "That's a shame," he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I don't particularly care for damaged possessions, sweetness, you see they tend to lose their… value."

The words were a blatant reminder of her status, a cruel jab at her captivity. Aurelia's fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. Every fiber of her being wanted to scream, to lash out at him, to remind him that she wasn't some object to be possessed.

But she forced herself to remain silent. Giving in to anger would give him the upper hand. Instead, she met his gaze with a steely glint of defiance. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.

"I apologize, Your Majesty," she said, her voice clipped and cold. The words tasted like ash in her mouth, but she held them there, refusing to let him see the turmoil churning within her....why did she have to apologize.

Samael watched her for a long moment, his golden eyes searching hers.

"I must admit, Aurelia," he began, his voice a low murmur, "I am… impressed."

Aurelia raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise flitting across her features. Impressed? By what?

"Impressed," he continued, his lips curving into a faint smile, "by your lack of… ambition."

The smile did not reach his eyes, and Aurelia felt a prickle of unease crawl down her spine. What game was he playing now?

"Since your arrival," he explained, his voice smooth as silk, "you haven't made a single attempt to escape."

His words hung in the air, a challenge veiled as observation. Aurelia met his gaze head-on, a tiny spark of defiance igniting within her.

"Escape?" she echoed, her voice laced with a cool indifference. "Why would I want to escape a life of luxury like this?"

The sarcasm was thick on her tongue, and a hint of amusement flickered in Samael's eyes. He knew she was playing a game, and he seemed to be enjoying it.

A sardonic laugh escaped Aurelia's lips, the sound echoing eerily in the vast dining room as she continued. "Escape... Escape, Your Majesty?" her voice heavy with mock surprise. "Do you truly believe I haven't considered it?"

A flicker of something, perhaps curiosity, flickered across Samael's face. He leaned forward, his golden eyes boring into hers. "Have you, now?"

Oh, she has.

Aurelia met his gaze unflinchingly. "Of course," she replied coolly. "Who wouldn't dream of escaping a gilded cage?" But the truth, the desperate yearning for freedom that gnawed at her soul, remained unspoken.

"But alas," she continued, a hint of theatrical despair creeping into her voice, "I wouldn't want to cause any… inconvenience. After all, one can't simply kill a Lord and expect to waltz away scot-free, can they?"

Samael's eyes narrowed for a moment, a flicker of surprise battling with amusement within their depths. He hadn't expected such blatant honesty, such a brazen reminder of the chaos she had unleashed upon his court.

A slow smile spread across his face, a smile that sent shivers down Aurelia's spine. "Ah, yes," he drawled, his voice laced with a dangerous amusement. "The unfortunate Lord of the East. Quite the… incident, wouldn't you say?"

"Unfortunate indeed," Aurelia countered, refusing to back down. "But a tragic misunderstanding nonetheless."

A tense silence descended upon the room, broken only by the crackling of the fire. The air crackled with unspoken words, with veiled threats and hidden agendas.

Samael finally broke the silence, a hint of disappointment tinging his voice. "You bore me, Aurelia," he said, "There's no fun in a game where the prey doesn't run."

Prey?

Samael heaved a sigh, a theatrical flourish that seemed at odds with the intensity that had crackled between them moments before. He pushed himself back from the table and with a languid grace, strode towards the head of the long oak table.

"Well then," he announced, his voice regaining its earlier smoothness, "perhaps we should get on with this delightful dinner before it grows cold." He gestured towards the table laden with an array of delicacies, a silent invitation for her to join him.

Aurelia, however, remained rooted to her spot. A spark of defiance flickered in her emerald eyes. "Forgive me, Your Majesty," she began, her voice laced with a steely politeness, "but wouldn't it be considered… inappropriate for a slave to dine at her master's table?"

A slow smile, devoid of warmth, spread across his lips. "And would you prefer to dine on the floor then?" he drawled, his voice laced with a dangerous amusement.

The question was laced with mockery, a reminder of her supposed place in his hierarchy. Aurelia bristled inwardly, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her anger.

With a measured grace, she walked towards the table and took a seat opposite him.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," she replied coolly, her voice betraying none of the turmoil within.

Aurelia cast a wary glance at the sumptuous spread before her. Roast fowl glistened under a golden glaze, exotic fruits piled high in a crystal bowl, and an entire roasted boar dominated the center of the table. The aroma of spices and herbs filled the air, a stark contrast to the tension that hung thick between her and the King.

Samael watched her with an unreadable expression, his golden eyes gleaming in the firelight.

Lifting her chin a fraction higher, Aurelia met his gaze head-on. "Shall we begin, Your Majesty?" she inquired, her voice a polite mask for the turmoil within.

"Of course."