VALORIA WILDEROSE
I change into casual wear, throwing on a shirt and so jeans before Yue guides the way toward the general library open to everyone in the building.
I’ve never stepped in, having no hobbies tied to reading, so she guides the way to the chief librarian’s office that sits right in the middle of the massive hall of shelves and books.
I’m standing in front of a middle-aged man, balding at the center of his head, looking up through his thick-rimd glasses.
A scowl and a gaze filled with instant judgnt find the second I’m standing in front of him.
I swallow. "I. Want. Access. To. The. Royal. Library."
I try my best to articulate my words, though my voice cos out dull and clumsier than I expect it to be—with less of a command.
The officer in charge remains unimpressed by my words or demand. Instead, he looks from head to toe with even more disapproval.
"And you are?" he raises a brow.
"Lady Valoria Wilderose—the most favored, contrary to the latest rumors. You heard about the kiss with the king yesterday, didn’t you? She’s the only woman who’s ever gotten one from him," Yue interrupts, introducing like I’m actually sothing special—with a little lie tossed in to spice things up.
Though I’m appreciative of her introduction, I cringe at Yue’s words, forcing a tight-lipped smile to hide the fact that that title fills with nothing but disgust—aside from the fact that it’s farthest from the truth and heavily based on the rumor of falling out of favor that hasn’t spread too far yet.
But at this point, I’d take any help I can get to get in.
If it ans using his na as I please and groveling to find that dagger—now is my last hope.
"Not approved," he responds before we even have the chance to prove anything.
I lean closer with desperation, about to say anything that sells it—but mocking, high-pitched laughter interrupts my train of thought.
My attention is pulled to the shelf that sits behind us.
Very slowly and dramatically, Alice steps out with her maid—her high heels clicking against the tiled floors as obnoxiously as the sound of her laughter, forcing to pause.
I bite my lips, suddenly rembering the sight from last night again—against my will. Sothing about it sears the very liquid in my blood.
Maybe it’s the fact that she’s an annoying, attention-seeking bitch, or that she purposefully went out of her way to embarrass and start rumors when I’ve done nothing to her.
"Sorry to burst your precious little bubble, but word on the street is that you’re nowhere close to being favored these days. In fact, it’s possible that you never even were." She giggles, books in hand, sashaying her hips in front of everyone until she’s standing just behind the startled older man before us.
Her hands fall on his shoulder, caressing and stroking his arm as a look of satisfaction and desire lts his previously stiff persona.
He acts like an idiot, following the stroke of her hands with hints of desperation, even once she’s left him with disappointnt.
I fight the urge to gag.
"Did you enjoy it... that little kiss on the altar?" she continues, teasing while sitting on his desk with her short skirt purposefully riding up her thigh. "Did it make you feel important for all five seconds it lasted? Only to be hit with the truth of your situation—that you’re new, and how could you ever know how quickly His Majesty loses interest in his pets?"
There’s venom hidden beneath the playfulness in her voice, ant to provoke .
I take a breath instead, deciding it isn’t important. None of last night was. Nothing pertaining to Azrael is.
"Alice... I d-don’t ha-have an i-issue with you—"
"But I do." She cuts off sharply. "I heard what you did to Ivana," she comnts in a low, hushed tone, heavy with malice.
My entire body stiffens, rembering her again—what happened. The swell of guilt follows, reminding why I hate Azrael. His sick, twisted manipulation.
The cause of everything bad that has happened to from the mont I stepped foot into the palace.
And now, even when I’ve made a resolve to avoid him, he still haunts like a shadow.
His manipulation runs so deep that she looks at with seething resentnt and hatred, as though I was the one who swung the killing blade, as though I wanted her dead.
"I d-d-didn’t kill he-her," I manage to croak out timidly, making a feeble attempt at defending myself—but that only sets her off.
"You may have worked your blood-sucking fangs and manipulative deception to kill Ivana, but I’m different." She stands off the table, drawing close until she stops inches away from .
Her sharp, painted, claw-like nails point and poke at painfully.
"I don’t go down easy. I will make your life here a living hell."
She follows it with a not-so-little shove that forces to stagger backward.
Yue stands behind fast enough, holding steady with worry while I’m unable to stop trembling, overwheld by her threats.
Flashes of monts where my sisters bullied choose this exact mont to replay in my mind—embedding the fear I had been raised with back into my body, forcing to be submissive and still.
But this ti, it’s different. I want to speak. I want to lash out, to tell her she’s wrong, that I’m not the sa weak girl anymore.
Anger spikes through my chest, burning behind my ribs.
Yet when I open my mouth, nothing cos out. My tongue feels heavy... Frozen. The words refuse to leave, trapped sowhere between my rage and my fear.
Her wicked laughter grows louder, more taunting.
"Can’t speak anymore? Where’s that qu-quick c-c-confident t-tongue of yours now, huh?" she mocks, imitating my stutter. "Or perhaps seeing riding His Majesty and giving him things you could never dream of giving him has finally made it sink in just how weak and pathetic you are—and how powerless your current situation is."
I begin to feel more eyes around , watching—peeking from the corners of the room as our conversation grows louder thanks to Alice.
Eyes watch without intervening. Even the librarian. They all watch and mock , giggling in the shadows.
The weight of guilt and anxiety seizes my voice completely, and I beco silent and compliant again, reverting back to my old slave self. Tempted to fall to my knees and beg her—to plead with her to have rcy.
Maybe then I’d have a chance. Maybe I’d be able to go into the library and not be hated if I just gave in this one ti.
"I think she’s speechless from how terrible those brow laminations are, Alice."
A new, third voice stumbles into our conversation, interrupting my thoughts.
I pause, looking up—along with everyone else spectating, including Alice.
Elodie stands there, appeared from nowhere, by the doorway with both hands folded beneath her chest, interest glimring in her eyes.
She oozes an overwhelming aura that draws attention and admiration without effort, despite her smaller stature.
She’s washed and dressed in a different outfit from last night, with a bright new fla burning in her eyes.
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