72

When Regan woke up, she stirred slowly and found herself in the previous room she was in. She was lying on the bed, covered with blankets. She rubbed her eyes hard and yawned.

However, the memories flooded back in and she felt a wave of fear wash over her. She remembered Sirius carrying her and she immediately shoved the blankets away, sighing in relief when seeing she was fully dressed. But then, her eyes widened when she saw her clothes better. They were the same, but they were brand new. The shirt and the pants weren't torn and dirty anymore. They looked as if they had just been bought from a store.

Regan's heart raced and she slipped off the bed, walking over to the mirror to examine herself. She couldn't believe her eyes. Not only were her clothes pristine, but her hair looked just as better as the last time she had seen it. And her face....her face looked....she felt prettier, but she quickly hated herself for it.

Even the cut on her forearm, which had been a visible scar before, was now barely noticeable, just a faint line of healed skin.

Regan's sense of dread and anger raised expectantly, and her mind swirled with the usual cynical thoughts. She was sure Sirius had done something sinister to her while she was unconscious. She felt violated, angry, and frustrated at her own mistake. What if he had....had....

She couldn't finish the thought. The possibilities were too horrifying. She paced around her room, her heart racing, her fists clenched. She wasn't scared of fighting, defying, yelling or whatever she had done to him. But she was terrified of being helpless, of not knowing what had happened, of feeling like he did something to her that she couldn't understand.

Her mind raced. She didn't know what he did, but why were her clothes clean and her hair combed? She prayed to God that Sirius hadn't done anything like that to her. She prayed to God with all of her heart.

She walked over to the door to see if she could get out. Surprisingly, it wasn't locked. She was sure of what she was going to do. She was going to find the bastard named Sirius and kill him.

With determination, she stormed out of the room. The castle was eerily quiet, save for the hush of servants moving about their duties. Regan made her way through the corridors, and used the damned fire bond to find Sirius's presence. It seemed that he was in his chamber, and she wasn't surprised. When she reached there, she took a deep breath and then pushed open the doors ferociously, her hands trembling with anger.

The room was dimly lit and Sirius was standing by the window, his back towards her, seemingly lost in thought..

"What the hell did you do when I was asleep?" Regan demanded, her voice cutting through the air like a sharp blade. Sirius was unperturbed by her sudden entrance. He had expected it. He turned slowly to face her, his expression unreadable.

"Good morning, my princess," he said calmly, his gaze meeting hers. "Did you sleep well?"

Regan's fury flared even more at his nonchalant demeanor. "What did you do to me?" she demanded, her voice sharp with anger and a hint of fear she tried to hide.

"You flatter yourself a lot," Sirius said with a smirk. "You think I'm so interested in you?"

"Don't play games with me," Regan retorted, taking a step closer, "I know you did something to me."

"So what if I did?" he interrupted again, his voice cold but his eyes filled with a sense of amusement. 

"Then you're going to pay for it! I swear I'll make you regret ever laying a hand on me," Regan declared, her fists clenched at her sides. She took a step forward, daring him to do anything.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, "And how do you plan on making me regret it?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"You'll see," Regan replied, her voice low and menacing.

"Oh, I'm trembling in my boots," Sirius teased, his smirk widening. Regan's frustration boiled over. She wanted to lash out at him and wipe off that smug grin off his face. But she knew he wouldn't tell anything. And even if he told, he'd lie. She had enough of his lies and didn't want anymore.

So, she turned away reluctantly, her anger still burning in her veins. Before she could leave, Sirius spoke again. "I used magic for your wound, your clothes and your hair. And I tended to that injury," he said, his voice softening. "I didn't do anything bad, Ylor." 

He knew he wasn't telling the whole thing, but if he told her where she slept....well, she'd believe that, because that was something she called terrible. And he knew she wasn't entirely wrong, it was indeed terrible, him falling asleep beside her.

He didn't even used to sleep. His nights were sleepless with stargazing, sketching, plans of conquering and political affairs. He thanked God that she didn't wake up when he was still there. And the clothes part, that was another story. No, he wasn't going to tell her that. How could he do it without it sounding like he had played with her when she was unconscious?

Regan's teeth clenched at his words in complete disbelief. But she didn't leave, instead she turned around, glaring at him, but with not the same intensity as before. "What have you done to Iris?" she asked.

"Only what was necessary," Sirius replied smoothly, glad for the change of subject. He walked over to a wine rack, grabbing a bottle of wine, and pouring himself a glass. Then sat on the opposite couch, his eyes not leaving hers.

"If you're using her as a leverage against me, give her a better place to stay at least," Regan retorted, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"A better place?" Sirius repeated with a smirk, taking a sip of his wine, "Who knows, what if she gets the wrong idea?"

"I don't care about your wrong idea. I want to see her."

"You want company?"

Regan could hear the mockery in his voice and she wanted to throw that glass of wine on his face, "What if I do?" she challenged, holding his gaze.

Sirius chuckled, "Well then, you're not getting it," he replied simply. "Besides, the company is staring at you right in the face."

Regan's eyes narrowed at his audacity. She didn't need it. But she was concerned about what he had done to Iris. "I don't want your company," she spat.

"Do you want a glass of wine then, love?" he offered, reaching for the bottle again, his smugness grating on her nerves.

Regan felt a surge of anger, but not just that. A traitorous flutter of her heart as well. But she wasn't going to let him now he'd made her affected.

Before she could reply, there was a knock on the door and she stepped aside, feeling a surge of irritation. It was general Vlad, his stoic expression turning almost surprised when he saw Regan standing there, her posture tense and her eyes flashing with defiance. He glanced between them, sensing the charged atmosphere in the room.

"My lord," he began, his expression turning once again calm and composed, "I apologize for the interruption. The Council requests your presence late in the afternoon."

"Very well," Sirius nodded curtly. "I'll be there."

Vlad lingered for a moment, confused at the scene before him. Regan didn't need anyone's word, she turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. She didn't look back, just forward, her heart pounding in her chest.

Whenever she thought about Iris, the rebellion, whatever had happened, she could feel the frustration and guilt building up inside her. And it was becoming very draining. The rebellion hadn't even been her priority in the first place, it had been her parents, but see where she was now, what she was doing.

She didn't know if she wanted freedom anymore. And she couldn't stand Sirius, not after all what had happened. Especially she couldn't stand the way he spoke to her, the way he looked at her. She didn't need Vesper's words to know what kind of person he was. 

And she knew she had to get out of here. His words about her parents, about her father, they were filled with so much venom that she couldn't help her own self-loathing. She wasn't going to let that define her, but she couldn't stay here. She had to leave.

The hallways silence was eerie, so eerie she could almost feel like someone was speaking out loud her own thoughts. But it broke when she heard female voices. Regan's eyebrows furrowed and she followed the voice's trail, finding herself before a small door slightly ajar. Her hand barely touched the knob and just as she was about to poke her head in, a loud banging sound echoed through the corridor. The room had been a laundry room, and a maid collapsed on the floor. Regan gasped, reaching to help the maid. But as she did so, she saw a brunette standing there with a bat.