Bathed in Silence, Bound by Fear

Aurelia sat alone in the chamber carved from ancient stone, shadows etched across the murals of forgotten wars and gods no longer named. There was no warmth in the hearth—only the dry hiss of still air and the memory of judgment. Her hands trembled as she unrolled the scroll again, the parchment coarse like flayed beast-hide, the ink reeking faintly of old iron.

She read aloud in a whisper, as if daring the words to undo themselves:

The Bound Shall Not Speak Unless...

One line sprawled at the bottom, scrawled in another hand, the ink jagged like a wound torn open:

You belong to what you cannot comprehend.

The silence that followed was not peace. It was the hush before burial.

Her breath stilled. Her soul felt bartered, she felt so down know fully well that her life now depended on the worldin the scroll.

She curled the scroll tight and laid it aside. Her white gown clung like a shroud. The chamber's cold crept beneath her skin, anchoring her to the stone.

Aurelia's heart stuttered when the door creaked—not knocked, not opened, but remembered by the castle itself. A figure in gray entered silently. The servant didn't speak. Servants here didn't speak. Only the chosen. Only those who ruled.

The girl bowed, gaze averted, and gestured faintly.

Another came. Then another.

Three maidens, all cloaked in ashen linen, entered in slow succession, moving with an eerie synchronicity. They circled her like shadows curling around a candle's flame. None looked her in the eye. Their hands were folded, then unfurled, reaching toward her as if handling sacred relics.

Aurelia backed away instinctively.

"What is it" she asked, voice too calm in such still room.

The eldest maiden bowed slightly. "It is time, my lady... you are to be cleansed."

Her brows furrowed. "Cleansed?"

"It is the rule," the youngest murmured.

"No." She shook her head. "You can't just—no,"crawling deeper to the bedside.

The third girl, silent until now, spoke with trembling lips. "Our lives are bound to yours, my lady. If you refuse... it will be seen as our failure."

Aurelia's protest died in her throat,she knew if she didn't comply it maybe their head off.

She let them guide her, heart pounding. They moved like dancers trained since birth—each fold of her gown lifted with reverent caution, each pin and clasp undone without pressure. No lust, no warmth. Only duty.

She was led through a small side door into a bathing chamber. Steam curled like ghosts from a large sunken tub filled with perfumed water and crimson petals. Sconces glowed with low flame.

They helped her step into the water. Warmth lapped at her skin, coiling around her thighs, her ribs, her collarbones. She tried to relax, but her spine remained taut as a blade.

Two of the maidens knelt by the edge, washing her gently, speaking in hushed tones. The third stood apart, wringing her hands, glancing often toward the door.

Then she knew that this maybe the only time she could enquire about Tenebrarum freely,

"If I may ask who is Tenebrarum?,his..."She paused because there was no reply given back only cold glances at each other.

"Why do you all look so nervous?" Aurelia asked finally, her voice low.

The eldest paused. "We are not to speak freely with you ma'am, it's in our rules."

"She's bound already," the youngest whispered. "She should know."

"She will suffer if he thinks we said too much," the third girl snapped. "We all will."

"I'm only askinf who he is," Aurelia said. "Tenebrarum. What kind of name—what is he?"

The girl nearest her dropped the cloth into the water.

"You must not speak it so casually," she whispered. "Not in this house."

Aurelia's blood chilled. "Why?"

"He is the son of the demon king, people believes he hear everything," the middle one murmured.

Aurelia blinked. "What?"looking up like a child craving for more stories.

"He was born of a mortal woman," the eldest added carefully. "She was never wed. But the king favored him above all his other sons... even those born of his queen."

And it felt like as they started talking they couldn't just stay silent again, words continue to flow out.

"He made him crown prince," the youngest said, almost reverently. "Even the queen's sons had to bow."

"His mother fears him," the third said. "Everyone does."

Aurelia swallowed hard. Her breath caught.

She was human Lady.

She didn't want to be part of this, him , his story.

She finally got the courage to ask about the mask.

"He wears the mask," the middle maiden continued, "to hide his beauty."

"What?"

"His face is too much. Too... perfect." The youngest spoke now, slowly. "His beauty is dangerous. It made angels fall at just a glance "

Aurelia turned slightly in the water, foam clinging to her arms. "Dangerous"she asked because she haven't seen his face but from what she heard , it's like she wanted to see it now.

The girls hesitated. One leaned in closer, as if afraid the walls might hear.

"His stepsisters—daughters of the queen—they once tried to... to force themself on him."

Aurelia eyes opened wide ,she was not sure she heard this right,

The girl nodded grimly. "They drugged him. Tried to seduce him. Not out of love, but to ruin him. To make him unfit to rule. "

Aurelia stared at them, heart thundering. The steam suddenly felt suffocating.

" But something happened, they failed," the eldest said. "He left them screaming, he did something bad to them and no one spoke of it ever."

"The queen never forgave him. Not because her daughters failed and were seduce by him —but because he made them go insane, they ran out naked on the tip of their voice."

" The worst part was he was not even touched,he... wears the mask now to stop it from happening again?"

"To protect others from lust," the third maiden said. "Or perhaps... to protect himself."

The tub felt colder. Her arms folded across her chest.

This was not the story of a prince.

It was the myth of a god never meant to walk among mortals.

And she belonged to him.

She sank lower into the water, pressing her back against the curved marble. But the warmth could not touch the chill inside her. She felt it deep—an ache that had nothing to do with her flesh.

She would sleep tonight with eyes open—and still dream of his mask.

One of the maidens approached with a thin robe. "The cleansing is complete."

Aurelia rose slowly, water dripping like blood from her skin, and let them dress her again in silence. Their hands moved reverently. Their eyes never rose.

As they wrapped her hair in cloth and guided her back to her chamber, Aurelia whispered to herself:

He was never meant to know I exist.

And yet now, she knew him.

Or worse—he had always known her.

To be continued...