It was a man—but with hair so blonde, so pale, it reminded Aria of sunlight. Not just the color, but the way it shimred faintly under the brightness of the sun, almost glowing.
The strands frad his head like a soft halo, and it didn’t help that his skin was just as light, nearly translucent, the sunlight catching on it and making it stand out even more.
He wore a hat, but it didn’t cover his face—not really. His features were clear and striking, not in a way that scread beauty, but in a way that made it nearly impossible to stop looking.
There was sothing quietly magnetic about him. Aria’s heart thudded harder in her chest, once, twice, and then again—loud enough she swore she could feel the pulse in her neck.
She didn’t walk forward. She didn’t even realize she had stopped. Her feet had frozen to the ground as her eyes stayed locked on him, unable to pull away.
The garden around him only made it worse. The flowers he was tending to—rows of delicate blooms in full color—looked like sothing out of a dream, and with him crouched among them, it was almost too much to take in.
This was the first ti in her life she had ever looked at a man and not seen sothing cold, rough, or dangerous. There was no cruelty in the way he moved, no sharpness in his hands. Even those—his hands—looked refined as he worked, careful and precise in the way they handled each stem and petal.
And then, suddenly, he looked up.
Aria blinked, caught off guard as his gaze landed directly on her. For a mont, she forgot to breathe. His eyes were blue. Not just blue—rare. Sharp and icy, a color she had never seen in person before.
Her eyes widened without her aning to. She had heard of such eyes but never imagined seeing them so close.
He looked just as surprised as she did. His eyes briefly flicked down to her collar, then moved to her red hair before returning to her face. Then, glancing past her, he spotted Rymora standing silently behind. Whatever he saw made his expression change, and he stood quickly, straightening himself with a sudden awareness.
The second his eyes settled on her again, he bowed his head slightly in a respectful motion.
"I’m sorry to disturb you! I just ca to look at the garden!" Aria blurted, the words rushing out of her before she had a chance to think them through. She didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. But to her surprise, his expression changed again—he looked shocked. Really shocked.
She hesitated. "Did I say sothing wrong?" she asked carefully, her brows drawing together. She knew she had been polite. She had chosen her words carefully.
But he shook his head quickly, and when he did, his golden curls bounced slightly with the motion.
"No! It’s just rare to see a Lord’s pet speak so politely to a servant," he explained, almost as if he didn’t quite believe what had just happened.
"Why wouldn’t I? We’re both humans," Aria replied, her voice steady.
That caught him off guard. He looked at her again, this ti with sothing different in his eyes. Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—so genuine and unexpected that Aria couldn’t help but stare. Watching his expression soften made her heart thump again, faster than before, and this ti she didn’t fight it.
"My na is Aria. What’s yours?" she asked, the words slipping out without hesitation. A week ago, she never would’ve dared say sothing so direct. But now—now she felt like she had no ti to waste. She didn’t have the luxury of silence.
"Clay," he replied, his smile growing a little more. "Yeah... my mother had a weird sense of humor," he added, almost sheepishly.
Aria’s face lit up in response. Her smile widened before she even realized it. She couldn’t help it. Hearing that na—it was simple, but it struck sothing in her. She knew, without question, that she wouldn’t forget it.
"Clay. You take care of the garden?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity as she stepped a little closer.
Clay reached toward one of the shrubs and grabbed a cloth hidden behind the greenery, wiping his hands clean before answering. "Yeah. I usually take the night shift, but sotis you’ll find here during the day."
She liked that answer. More than liked it. Her grin returned in full, bright and warm. She showed her teeth without sha.
There was sothing about him that pulled her in. She wanted to stay near him. She wanted to talk more, to learn more. And—shocking even herself—she wanted to touch him. That realization hit her hard and deep.
I like him. I actually like him, she thought, the idea shaking her but also thrilling her.
"What about you? What lord do you serve?" he asked as he took a careful step toward her.
He hadn’t seen her before, which was unusual. The collar around her neck made it clear that she belonged to soone important. She wasn’t the most beautiful girl in the mansion—not by typical standards—but her red hair made her different enough to catch his interest.
Still, he was a servant. He knew the boundaries. But even if he couldn’t have her, that didn’t an there wasn’t sothing to gain. A connection. Leverage. Maybe even money.
Aria hesitated for a mont, then tilted her head slightly, giving him a faint, sly smile. "Does it matter?" she asked.
Clay shook his head without a second’s pause.
"No. As long as your lord allows it," he said plainly. She wouldn’t be in the garden otherwise—that much was obvious. She was likely a favorite, but not the favorite. If she were, she wouldn’t be allowed to wander.
"The last thing I want is to get on his bad side, Aria," he added, testing her na again. He liked the way it sounded. He liked her reaction to it even more.
He could tell she liked hearing it from him. Good. That ant he still had his charm.
That makes three, he thought. If I can gather enough coin, I can leave this place. Find a city where no one knows . Where I could even be called a lord.
"I’m free right now. Can you show what you’re doing with the lilies?" Aria asked suddenly, surprising herself with how reluctant she felt to leave.
Behind her, Rymora’s face twisted in a deep frown. She said nothing but kept watching, eyes sweeping the area. The garden was quiet—but she didn’t trust quiet. And watching Aria bend down beside the strange young man made her stomach tighten.
Still, she stood silently, waiting, legs starting to ache from standing so long. She didn’t speak until Aria turned to look back at her.
"You can leave to get lunch early, Rymora," Aria said, her voice firm.
Rymora hesitated. She looked back at Aria with clear reluctance in her eyes, but Aria didn’t budge. Her gaze was fixed on Clay.
"I insist," Aria added, sharper this ti.
She knew she was being reckless. She didn’t care. After spending hours trapped in Zyren’s presence—having to speak only when spoken to, to endure his gaze, his hands, his constant, looming presence—this felt like oxygen. Clay didn’t look at her like prey. He didn’t treat her like an object to be controlled.
He just looked at her.
And she wanted more of that.
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