25

Regan was pacing around the room, her stomach grumbling from being empty. Althea had left another tray of food after the 'dinner', but Regan couldn't bring herself to eat. A spark of hope had found its way on her heart, at least now she had seen a glimpse of the mysterious castle. 

She had to get out of here, had to find a way. The more she sat there, the note frustrated she got at her self. She couldn't just keep waiting for the lord's every whim.

But she needed a plan, not a reckless one. It was when Althea knocked gently that Regan's mind came up with something, no matter how risky it was.

Althea entered but before she had, Regan took a deep breath, placing her hand on her stomach, feigning a very pained face. "Agh... I-I don't feel well," she said weakly, trying to force out a trembling voice.

The servant's expression went within the second to one of concern and confusion, "My lady, what's wrong?"

Regan took another deep breath, trying to keep her act as convincing as possible. "My-My stomach feels like it'll burst. I need some... some..." she trailed off and winced, her eyes watering for effect.

Althea's brow furrowed with concern, "Should I tell his lordship?" she asked tentatively.

"No, no, no!" Regan said quickly, shaking her head. "I need something to eat...." she trailed off again and threw herself on the bed dramatically, like she was in pain. "It huuurrts!" she groaned.

Althea looked at her with wide eyes, "But you haven't even eaten the food! W-What happened?"

Regan closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, "I don't know. Just get me something else. Maybe bread or soup." She hoped that this would be enough to convince Althea to leave her alone without raising suspicion.

"Of course, I'll bring it right away," Althea rushed, running out of the room, leaving the door ajar. Regan waited for a moment, before jumping out of bed. She strode to the door and poked her head out into the hallway. It was empty. This was her chance. She had to move quickly and quietly.

"Shit," she cursed under her breath. The corridor was dark and she didn't know where she was going. But she had to keep moving, had to find a way out. The castle was a labyrinth of corridors and doors, each more intimidating than the last. She didn't remember which way Althea led her down before but she decided to go down some stairs. The corridor was even darker there, being lit by only two torches.

As she turned a corner, she spotted a set of slight ajar doors, where a faint light was coming through them. Curiosity piqued, she approached and pushed the doors open cautiously, revealing a small, cozy library. The smell of aged parchment filled her nose. It was a beautiful library, like those in fantasy novels.

Her eyes scanned the library for a way out and landed on another set of grand doors. Those were made of rich oak and intricately carved. She pondered it for a moment before walking towards them. Regan swallowed hard, feeling a strange unease. She didn't want to do something reckless but she could just leave if this door led to something darker.

She slowly pushed the door open, just a little, a scent of male musk and sandalwood filling her nostrils as soon as she took a step closer. Her eyes scanned the surroundings and realized she was in a luxurious chamber. 

It was washed with a red hue of candles, with opulent furnishings, and decadent decorations. 

There was a large, four poster luxurious bed in the center, adorned with crimson silk sheets and velvet pillows. The windows were closed with velvet curtains except only one that was slight open, showing only darkness nevertheless.

"Oh no," Regan cursed under her breath. She was in someone's bedroom, she had to get out of here immediately. She quickly stepped back, but the crack of a door stopped her. Regan stiffened, and turned to see the demon lord stepping out of what seemed to be the bathroom, with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

The time felt like it stopped and her heart skipped a beat.

His black hair was damp and messy and she could see his muscular chest and abs glisten with water droplets. His posture went rigid for a moment when he saw her, before his eyes narrowed with anger and a hint of curiosity.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he roared as he tightened the towel around his waist. The air grew charged with energy and Regan's cheeks flushed crimson, her eyes darting her away. She realized what a foolish move she had made. She had gone to the lion's den without knowing it was the lion's chamber. There was no excuse for her intrusion, not even the guise of feigned illness. She stuttered, trying to form words that would justify her presence, but nothing came out.

Sirius noticed her shyness and barely supressed a small smirk. Then he grunted in anger and said, "Give me some clothes," he ordered, pointing at the wardrobe.

Regan, still flustered, rushed to the closet and pulled out the first clothes she found, her hands trembling. She turned around to hand them to him, keeping her head on the side.

He snatched the clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Regan's heart pounded in her ears, and she knew she was doomed for sure. She rushed back to the door but it was locked from the inside. There was another grand door, that locked too. She was trapped.

"Oh my God, oh my God," Regan mumbled to herself, fidgeting with her hands as she stood against the locked door. She was humiliated, that was first-hand humiliation, much worse than the one at the dinner. She couldn't believe she saw him like that, and she certainly couldn't believe she just walked into his private chamber. 

He didn't have a single tattoo on his body, he had chiseled abdominals and muscular arms that could probably break her in half. He was very intimidating, but she couldn't ignore the way his eyes had pierced through her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening. She turned around slowly but didn't look at him. He was dressed in a pair of black pants and a white shirt, unbuttoned at the top, showing his chest. His eyes were colder than the stone walls of the castle. "You foolish little girl," he growled, "how the hell did you end up here?"

"I don't know," she lied, her voice shaking slightly. "I wasn't feeling well. You can ask Althea."

"And what does Althea have to do with you being in my private quarters?" Sirius's voice was low and dangerous.

Regan swallowed hard, trying to compose herself. "She said she was going to bring me some water, b-but I had a bad stomachache and I couldn't wait. I wanted to go downstairs and got lost. I didn't mean to intrude," she stumbled over her words, hoping that the lie would be enough to satisfy his questioning gaze.

Sirius stared at her, his expression unreadable. "And you were going to find water in my bedroom?"

His questions were like fuels to her embarrasment and she wished she could just disappear into thin air. It wasn't like she hadn't seen shirtless men before outside of the virtual world. She had seen on the beach.

But none like him. And the situation here was like nothing in the beach.

"I didn't know it was your room," she retorted, trying to defend herself, to sound stronger.

"And you thought water was going to help for stomachache?" Sirius chuckled dryly, his eyes piercing through her lie as he stepped closer. "And if it hurts, it does because you don't eat anything. You want me to force-feed you or what?"

Regan felt something within her snap, "I don't want to eat your food," she shot back, her own awkwardness making her blood boil, "I'm not even from this world! You're all aliens, and I'm kidnapped here!"

Sirius smirked, "You don't know what you are, Regan," he said, taking another step closer to her, "but don't worry, I'll show you and then you'll hate me even more."

Regan's eyebrows furrowed at his words. But there was a knock on the door before she could respond. She jumped at the sound, her eyes darting towards the exit.

"Stay," Sirius ordered, his voice a low growl. He walked over and opened the door, revealing Althea with a worried sick expression.

"M-my lord, sorry for the intrusion," Althea stammered, not noticing Regan yet, "she-she's not in her room. She said she was sick but I can't find her anywhere."

Sirius's eyes flicked to Regan, his smirk growing into a full cruel smile, "Well, seems like you came at the right time. Take her away," he said to Althea, his tone cold and dismissive.

Althea looked at Regan, her eyes widening in shock, "My lady, you were sick!" she exclaimed, trying to maintain her composure. Regan felt a pang of guilt, but she didn't answer, her gaze still fixed on the floor.

Sirius stepped back, his eyes narrowed, "Oh, she seems perfectly fine to me," he said with a sneer. "But take her back to her room, Althea. Make sure she doesn't get lost again."

Althea quickly took Regan's arm and led her out of the room, her eyes filled with confusion and concern. Regan didn't dare look back at Sirius, her cheeks still burning with humiliation. 

As they made their way through the corridors, Althea whispered, "You're out of your mind to sneak around like that. Do you even know there's no one allowed in his bedroom?"

Regan pulled her arm free, feeling the sting of the accusation. "I didn't know it was his room, okay?" she hissed back. "And I didn't like what I saw there."

"What did you see?" Althea asked, her eyes searching Regan's as they continued down the hallway.

Regan bit her lip, "Nothing," she murmured, her gaze avoiding the servant's. "Just.... I saw Sirius. In a towel."

Althea's eyes widened, and she let out a gasp before covering her mouth. "Oh, God forbid," she whispered, her eyes darting to the side as if expecting someone to appear from the shadows. "You saw the lord... like that? You're in big trouble, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know," Regan said, embarrassment gnawing at her, "It was very awkward. He yelled at me and called me a foolish girl."

The servant's expression was wary, "It could've gone much worse," she said, shaking her head vigorously, "but you're lucky he didn't decide to punish you himself." Regan nodded, her mind racing with fear of what that punishment might have been.

"And don't talk about this again," Althea warned as they approached Regan's room. "Because if anyone hears you, servants and especially those witches, they're going to-to accuse you of....of getting laid!"

Regan's eyes widened with horror. She couldn't believe she was being told that. 

"No no, it wasn't like that," she insisted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," Althea said with a knowing look, "but in this place rumours are everything."

Regan didn't say anything, though Althea's bitter words had made her feel so low, as if she had snuck in his room on purpose. How dare she talk like that to her? Yes, it was a reckless move, but she hadn't meant it.

They were standing in front of her room and Althea opened the door and led her inside, closing it behind her.

"So these women you're talking about, they're part of his harem?" Regan asked, unable to keep it in any longer.

"What does 'harem' mean?" Althea asked back.

Regan blushed, "You know, a group of women who sleep with a man."

Althea took a deep breath, "That's why I'm saying he doesn't allow anyone in his chamber. So no one knows what goes on in there," she whispered, glancing around as if the very walls had ears. "But, if you ask me, it's probably true. I mean, look at him."

Regan's stomach churned with disgust. The servant had just confirmed her worst fears about him.

"And these witches, especially that blue haired one," Althea continued, "She's mad after him, that one. If she finds out you've been in there, she'll make your life a living hell."

"Is she his lover?" Regan asked, the question burning on her lips.

Althea's shrugged, "I don't think there's a difference between 'lover' and 'ally' around here," she murmured, her eyes darting around the room as if to make sure no one was listening. "But she's definitely one of the ones who get... privileges."

"What's her name?" Regan asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"The blue-haired one? That's Vesper," Althea whispered, her expression tightening.

Regan's eyes widened. Vesper? But that was the name of her best friend on Earth. What a strange coincidence. Or was it? She felt a knot of dread in her stomach. How was someone with the same name as her in an alien world?

"What does she look like?" Regan asked, her voice trembling a little. It looked like a joke played by fate, but she had to be sure.

Althea's eyes searched hers before she spoke, "Vesper? She's got electric blue hair, and she's... she's beautiful, but cruel. She's vicious, not someone you'd want to mess with.

Regan's heart raced. That was the young woman whom she had seated beside. She hadn't seen her face, but this couldn't be the same Vesper, right? Her friend had brown hair and was kind, not cruel and vicious. Even the thought was absurd. Yet, the name echoed in her mind, a strange twist in this alien reality.

"Now eat the soup," Althea said, gesturing at the soup on the tray. "I brought that before I knew you had left the room. Why did you even leave?"

Regan sighed, "The pain was getting unbearable," she lied, feeling a pang of guilt at the deceit. "But thanks for the soup."

"It must've gotten cold," Althea said disappointedly, looking at the tray of food. Regan nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. She sat on the bed and placed her hands on her stomach, as if the pain was real. She didn't want to admit to the servant that she had lied. The last thing she needed was for Althea to get a bad impression of her.

"My lady, can I ask you something?" Althea's voice was tentative, her eyes flicking from Regan's belly to her face.

Regan nodded, the lie about her stomachache feeling heavy on her tongue. "What is it?"

"What about your....cycle?" Althea asked carefully, making Regan's mind flinch. "Is it because of that?"

Regan's eyes widened with shock, the question about her menstrual cycle catching her off-guard. What kind of world was that where people asked such personal questions so openly? "What?" she blurted out, her voice high with surprise.

Althea looked at her with a mix of sympathy and curiosity, "You know, the bleeding time," she whispered, her cheeks slightly pink.

Regan felt her own face flushing, but she composed herself quickly. "No, no," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's not that. I just... I just get stomachaches sometimes."

Althea nodded, "When you'll get your cycle, you have clean cloths and other stuff in the wardrobe," she said, pointing at the wooden armoire. "And the soup is cold now," she pouted, "I'll have to warm it up again."

Regan still couldn't shake the knot of embarrassment chilling on her stomach, accompanied with the growling. She felt like she was going to throw a tantrum from nerves.

When Althea turned back, she could see the steamy hot soup waiting for her, the scent of herbs and chicken wafting through the air. She still couldn't get the fact that she was living in a castle with....with women who shared a man's bed. It was so disgusting. 

And she thought about her stumbling in his room, she feared what would've happened if she'd have walked in on something worse. Ew, she thought.

"My lady, are you okay?" Althea's voice was filled with genuine concern as she placed the tray of food on the bedside table.

"Yeah yeah," Regan lied. She took the bowl of soup and began to eat, its warmth spreading through her, chasing away the disgust she felt.

"So do these women love him?" she asked, trying to keep the disdain out of her voice.

Althea looked at her nervously, "Why are you asking?" 

Regan took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. "Just curious," she replied, her voice shaky.

The servant studied her for a moment before speaking, "Love doesn't exist here. There's lust and power. And fear. That's what everyone has here. They call it love, but it's just power play."

"That's horrible," Regan murmured, her eyebrows furrowing. She took a spoonful of the soup, the warmth of it soothing her frazzled nerves. "What do they get by-by being with him?"

"My lady, he's a lord," Althea whispered, her eyes filled with a hint of awe and fear. "They don't.... they're not forced. Believe me, I've worked here for long and I've never heard any woman being forced. They want to be near him. But you should not try get out of here again, okay? And you're going to forget what you saw," she said firmly.

"But why am I even here?" Regan asked exasperated, "I'm from Earth, I don't belong in a world like this!"

Althea's gaze softened, "I don't know why. We never know what runs through the lord's mind," she said, her voice hushed. "But you're here now, and you need to think twice before you act. And...." she trailed off, looking for something in her pocket, "I forgot about that, but he gave me the lock of your door. I mean you can lock it so no one comes in."

"But I'm not allowed to get out again, right?" she questioned, the spoon of soup hovering in mid-air as she met Althea's gaze.

"Yes, he took care of that," Althea nodded, her expression solemn. "But you can lock it from the inside, at least." She handed Regan a silver key with an intricate design, the metal cool to her hand.

"And why he did that?" Regan asked.

"He-he said it was about privacy."

"Privacy?" Regan echoed, her voice filled with sarcasm. She had been embarrassed and mortified when she saw him with a towel but she remembered what he had done. He didn't even care about her privacy. He had haunted her, stalked her for God knew how long. And now he was giving her a key to her room. It was pathetic.

After Althea left, she locked the door and felt a sense of dread wash over her. It was like a nightmare. She was a fool to think she'd escape. She was just a captive, staring out at the dark sky. There was a blue moon shining and she gasped in awe. 

She leaned against the bed's post, wrapping her hands around her knees, staring out of the window. The moon was very beautiful. She started singing randomly, trying to keep her voice low. She wouldn't want someone to hear her.

After a while, she went to the bathroom and

looked at her reflection. Her hair was a tangle of waves and mess. Regan found a comb and brushed it despite the ridiculousness of the feeling. She had to keep her mind off what had happened, off him.