VALORIA WILDEROSE
He’s standing there half-naked as he was the night before—ssier hair and a look akin to exhaustion in his eyes, or sothing else; I could be wrong.
Blood-stained hands up to his elbows, dripping.
Whatever it is is buried beneath the twisted look of delight in his eyes that lights up the second I walk in—the unhinged derangent I’m used to.
He’s nothing like the man from last night — a complete 180. That person I could talk to. What stands in front of now, trembling with excitent, isn’t him.
On instinct my body tenses, completely on guard and terrified as if I’m staring at the devil himself.
"There she is..." He covers the distance to get closer, stretching out a bloody hand toward ; the sll of it makes nauseous.
I stagger away, running into the wall behind , and glance to et Eros’s cold, distant eyes—watching , inadvertently telling there’s no escape.
"You’re just in ti," he calls out again.
I hold his gaze while he waits, then, reluctantly and with fear, I step closer and accept his dripping hand, trying to hide my terror.
Swiftly he pulls closer into him, guiding forward with both hands on my shoulders to the body for a closer view.
"You missed the preview, but you’re not late," he chuckles, showing off the dead body like a nice trinket in his collection.
Bile rushes up my throat and I force it down, swallowing hard for seconds before I can breathe again, trying not to look—trying not to think about the bloody handprint on my arm.
"Are you ready for today’s ga?" he whispers from behind suddenly, both hands on my shoulders and startling in the process.
Ah—the never-ending gas.
He’s tricked again, lowering my guard so his next bite sinks in deeper than the last.
I never learn, do I? Not to believe... not to fall for glimpses of hope flickering before my eyes and what seems like a hint of humanity in this crazy bastard.
"Y-Yes..." I whisper robotically, holding my breath and coming to terms with it surprisingly faster than before; I’ve grown accustod to his madness.
"Perfect," I hear on his breath, a smile in the sound. "I bet you’re wondering why she’s here today."
He gestures at the shivering Ivana with her head hung too low.
"She’s here for you."
"M-?"
"Today you get to decide what we should do with her as punishnt for her deeds against you. But there’s a twist." He hints, and I can easily tell what it will be about.
It’s just like with those n—forcing to kill one and stain my hands with their blood. He’s going to make go through that again, but this ti with soone I should hate.
"Wrong answers will result in penalties," he warns, holding my gaze and gauging my reaction. "So what will your answer be?"
He reads my reaction, searching for sothing entertaining to gawk at, but my nerves have turned to steel by force.
If I hadn’t adapted since coming here, I’d long since have lost my mind. I can’t kill her. I can’t give him what he wants.
There must be another form of torture that doesn’t involve body dismbernt.
"A we-ek’s co-confinent," I breathe out, committing to sothing strong enough— a week without food would be torture for soone pampered their whole life.
"Wrong," he shakes his head with a smirk.
"Ba-ba-banishnt," I try once more.
"Wrong again. Try and be more creative with your ideas," he taunts.
I bite my lips, knowing what he wants from —sothing bloody and gory enough to make his sadistic toes curl.
Or maybe I’m thinking too much into it. Maybe I can choose not to play. Worst case, he’ll punish and all of this can be done faster.
"I’d p-prefer if you sp-spared her," I breathe out. "She made a mistake and I’m sure she’s remorseful."
Take away the fun in the ga, so he loses enough interest for the damage to be lessened. Whatever punishnt he throws now... I know I can handle it.
But his grin deepens, holding back a ridiculing chuckle that threatens to burst out of him. I’m hit with a sinking feeling that I’ve made a mistake.
"Aww, did you hear that, Ivana..." he turns to her slowly.
Ivana looks at us. He walks closer, covering the distance and squatting down to her level.
"Your bestie wants you to be spared despite what happened, because she believes you’re remorseful." He raises a finger, lifting her chin so she looks at him.
Her face is bruised, dehydrated, teary-eyed. She’s seen better days.
"Yes, please..." she croaks, finding her voice laced with desperation. "Your majesty, spare , please. I did it because I love you." She confesses in front of everyone, bursting into tears and still fully delusional.
A sting pulls at my chest—recognizing a bit of myself in her pleas for love, just as I have all my life. I can understand that feeling, and perhaps that reason alone leaves biased toward her.
"You love ?" he raises a brow, barely able to hold back a disgusted chuckle.
I feel the sting from his words even if they’re not directed at .
She nods fervently, blinded by her own feelings, unable to see the mocking look in his eyes as he watches her like nothing more than a toy to play with and discard.
"Yes... I love you more than anything. I did it all for you. That unruly, foolish girl doesn’t deserve to be by your side. I’d do it all over again just for you."
"How interesting... you love that much, huh." His hand slides to caress the side of her face, working his charm like a snake, giving her just enough to leave her desperate for more.
She foolishly leans into his touch, believing her words are actually getting through.
"I guess it’s only fair that I reward your devotion, and since your friend doesn’t want to play my ga, shall I give you the chance to play?"
I freeze. It’s a rhetorical question, but I see the way his eyes shift toward , as if he knows sothing is coming—sothing I hadn’t considered at all.
"Her head." She speaks with more confidence, a smile almost as twisted as his spreading across her lips just before she looks at with equal, fiery hatred. "I want her head! Cut it off and give it to !"
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