8: Despised

I've always felt the weird demeanor Benedict has all those years of him acting loyal to my father. He's handsome, quiet, I think the quietest man I've ever met, he's most of the time serious, and he never looked at any girl in our pack. He was either training the men or handling the pack's affairs.

I didn't have casual conversations with him even though he was often invited to our house for dinners and parties. I'd always seen him in the town, and back when I was still studying, we went to the same school. I didn't give him much attention then, but I knew he was good at academics. Well, he's good at everything he does if my memory serves me right.

Although his beta father died early, with his contributions, everyone believed that he was the only man worthy of my hand. They said we were perfect for each other. I couldn't disagree more. I had never pictured myself marrying Benedict Allen. I could stomach Tyler, his geek cousin who couldn't even throw a punch, but not him.

Even though he hadn't done anything yet, I felt that he had something I didn't want for a husband. He's too dark. Brooding. Too manly. Looks too powerful. Just like this man named Lucius Voss.

And I guess the real reason why I don't fancy a man like that for a husband is the fear of being controlled. I don't want to be inferior in a marriage.

"Feel free to call for servants if you need anything," Lucius said before he left the room he's given me.

After I agreed, he brought me to his residence in the most secluded part of Seattle. I have nowhere to stay so I've got no choice but to accept his offer of living with him in his house. With how rich he is, I should have assumed that the "house" he was referring to was actually a palace-like mansion. He was being modest and I was a fool to assume anything less from him.

The room he gave me was quite spacious. It has its own living room, a large bathroom, a walk-in closet, a Victorian styled queen-sized four-poster bed, even an elegant kitchenette. My family isn't as rich as Lucius Voss but we're well-off. My father ran a textile business in Vancouver and owned several properties. We lived in a mansion, but not as big and grand as this.

Later at the dinner, Lucius and I talked about how we'll do the fake engagement thing. Honestly, I'm not sure if it will work, but Lucius seems very confident that it will. He looks like someone whose judgment never fails him. He's that sure of himself and I guess it's kind of contagious since I'm starting to believe that once he thinks it will work, it really will.

"I asked someone to buy you clothes. The maids are putting it in your room now," Lucius said.

The dining hall is incredibly huge and the table is long enough for more than two dozen people, yet we're sitting there just by the two of us. There's that thick air surrounding us, or maybe it's just me feeling uneasy, but I tried to shrug it off and just eat. I've been starving myself for days, the reason why I passed out in the woods and got caught by human traffickers. I should know better than to starve myself in the future. I don't want to stand in a stadium in front of a crowd of jerks again.

"Are you a regular in underground society? Is that where you get women to serve you?" I asked casually while chewing a piece of meat.

I glanced at him. He stared at me while drinking wine. I went back to my plate.

"If I want a woman to serve me, I won't need to toss a single coin in the air. Buying a whore in an auction is not my thing. I knew you were there so I went to see."

My eyes narrowed a little. He could have gotten me out without spending a dime considering how influential he is, but he chose to buy me to show that he's powerful. To show how he can hold my neck. What a smart ass he is.

"Why do you hate Benedict?"

"Do you really want to know?" he asked, his eyes turned to a darker shade of amber, more like closer to brown, or even almost black.

I didn't say anything and just looked at him.

"Let's just say we are something like rivals and he stole something from me. And I hate it when I lose a possession no matter how worthless it seems. I have this one rule in life. What's mine is mine. I don't share anything I own with anyone."

He was finishing his food. But before he could stand up and leave, I spoke.

"You said my father owes you a debt. What had he done?"

He smiled. The kind of smile that didn't reach his eyes. It only made him look morbid. "He's done nothing. I just don't like him because he's an asshole."

With how he talked about my father, I forgot where I was or who I was talking to. The knife I was holding flew to the opposite direction, right where Lucius was sitting. I bared my teeth and gripped on the fork at my other hand so tight it was about to break.

"How dare you disrespect my father," I said, my body burning.

Lucius chuckled, holding the knife I threw at him. He was fast enough to catch it before it could hit his stone face.

"How feisty you are, Madeline. But you have to know the truth. Lawrence Voss is no saint like how you perceive him to be. He's evil-"

"Shut up!"

Now I'm standing. I don't care if I kill myself but one more rude word from him and I'll forget the deal we just had or the vengeance I'm fighting for. I can't just stand and listen to him spurting disrespectful words to my father!

"You sound like evil yourself. Who are you to judge a person?"

He threw the napkin and stood. He walked toward me slowly with an unreadable expression on his face. Then the next second, he was an inch away. He pushed me hard and my back hit the cold wall. I groaned in pain but before I could recover, he was pinning me with his body.

"Remember what I told you, Madeline Voss? You're living at my mercy. You can't just do as you please." He shook his head and touched my jaw with his rough knuckles that sent shivers down my spine. "You can't disrespect your master, lady. Do this next time and you won't like what I will do to you."

A solemn, sweet melody from the citharas enveloped the palace. One signal from the chamberlain and I glided through the silk curtains, toward the grandiose hall.

Poise. Calmness. Confidence.

Three things I've learned from the mistress of imperial performers. The years of practice taught me the perfect stance, moves, and all the gracefulness I needed.

Dancing for the royal court's entertainment has been my life ever since I reached puberty. I've long accepted the life fate had offered me. This is my fate. To be a slave, to be caged in this palace forever.

The Kingdom of Eravia is where the mages rule. It was where my mother lived throughout her life. She was also one of those less fortunate people who was born as a slave, but not as unfortunate as the commoners, for she was a royal entertainer with imperial privileges. But to me, it wasn't privileges. All those years, I couldn't bring myself to enjoy whatever the palace could offer me. It felt as though I was always chained, someone who couldn't bend any orders from those in power.

The moment I reached the center of the hall, I felt nothing. There was no anxiety nor excitement. I felt empty, just like always. Through Mistress Ursula's very strict guidance, I learned how to dance with one, golden goal—to entice the audience. That job is nothing to me now. It comes out naturally every time I perform. But it wasn't passion. It was more like a necessity. Something I mastered through effort and time to avoid punishments.

Mistress Ursula knew I can do this better than any of the royal performers. The reason why I was chosen to perform in this special occasion. It's the King's birthday, and a lot of special guests are present, nobles and even royalties from other kingdoms. She knew I wouldn't fail to entice every eye in this huge hall with my dance.

My hair, black as ebony, was flowing down my back, with little crystals hanging from the golden hairpins. My eyes resembled the thin, silk dress I was wearing—sea green. Even the thin cloth I wore as a mask had the same color. My nose down to my chin was covered by it. It was always like that. As part of the palace rules, an entertainer is not allowed to let any of her audience see her face. A mere slave couldn't offer more.

I placed one foot slightly behind the other, bending my knees as a respect to His and Her Majesty. The moment I rose back to my stance, another rhythm enveloped the hall and it was my cue to start.

Hundreds of eyes were watching me but my heart not even leaped a bit in anxiousness. Dancing with utmost gracefulness has been my job for years. Now it only felt as if I was just doing a simple routine.

My eyes drifted to my King and Queen, then to the people around. Only in occasions like this I get to see people from the outside. We, slaves, are never allowed to go beyond the palace's tall barricades unless an imperial decree is issued. So every time I perform with massive audience, I take the opportunity to look, stare at other people.

With the little sorcery I've learned from Mistress Ursula, I proceeded to the next level of my performance. I went to the pool of water with petals of roses, and started the next phase of my dance, which is dancing at the water's surface.

I do not have any exceptional abilities. In this Kingdom, majority are mages. Those in high ranks, like the nobles and royal families, held the most authority not because of their status but because of their abilities, in particular. They are the spirit mages. The ones who doesn't need any aid from tangible things to perform sorcery. As for the those in lower ranks, they need aid from things like mage papers, amulets, and rituals to do sorcery, but their abilities have limitations. They can only do things like make a little fire, fix a broken glass, or something not very substantial.

However, in my case I cannot do any of that. I tried many times to do something out of mage paper but I just couldn't. Only ten percent of the population in Eravia can't perform even a simple sorcery out of mage paper—the most basic sorcery that a pure blooded mage can do, and I'm part of it.

Fortunately, through years of practice, I've learned how to dance in the water's surface, a dancing trick Mistress Ursula had taught me. Well, at least I finally got something I can do as a mage, right?

Water splintered like glistening crystals as I turned and followed the rhythm with precision. I closed my eyes as I continued on my track, there was another smooth splash. Once again, I turned and leaped a little, then faced the audience and opened my eyes.

I thought I'd see my expectants watching me in awe. But to my surprise, my line of vision was directed to a pair of unfamiliar pitch black eyes, the darkest shade of black I've ever seen in my whole life.

His eyes were round, deep, but very clear like it was made of dark crystals. He was staring at me—straight to my eyes, as though he was waiting for me to look at him, to notice him. Or... I could be wrong.

Judging his clothes, he could be an aristocrat or something. He must be closer to that since this celebration wasn't open for commoners. But if he was from this kingdom and part of the upper class, I should have seen him at least once in the past royal occasions. It was the first time I've seen him so I was thinking... maybe he was from another kingdom?

His attire was all black, only accented by gold and silver linings, face was stark like it was carved from the most expensive granite, jaw was angular and clean-shaven which made him look more manly than any man I've seen, nose straight and pointed, tall and lean but more than his physical attributes, what caught my attention was how he simply stood there, with air screaming in power and authority as if he was some sort of invincible man.

Who is he?

It was a useless question, I know. Regardless of how curious I am, I would not have any chance to know the answer. That is beyond what a slave is capable of. And why would I want to know who he is anyway?

I ended my performance with a sigh. Praises and applauses for me filled the hall, but like what should be done, I exited at once.

"Job well done, Ophelia!" Mistress Ursula was waiting for me beyond the curtains where I came from.

"I made the right choice of choosing you to perform in such big event. The jewelries and gifts from the King is already in your chamber as compensation for your service."

She touched my cheek happily. At times like this, she's nice, but most of the time, she's strict and really has a bad mouth. I guess I should just accept that I'd be working under her guidance for as long as I serve in this palace. At least, you're not starving, Ophelia.

Right.

I didn't say anything and went straight to my chamber. I've already done my part in the occasion, and slaves can't stay long after we've done our designated jobs. We are only living for our superiors. To serve, to entertain them with all we've got.

Life was never fair. Some are born with silver spoons in their mouths, while the less fortunate people like me, are born as a slave, and will also die as one. Ruthless as it seems, but that is how life plays with people's fate. You can never hide from what is destined for you, you'd just end up accepting it no matter how worse it could be.

I looked at myself in the mirror—something I always do every time I miss my late mother. Her exquisite beauty was a reflection of my own. Only that, her hair was dark ocher, and her eyes were brown. But except those two traits, we looked so much alike.

Maybe I got my sea green eyes from my father. I never had the chance to meet him, or know his name at least. My mother didn't want me to, and I couldn't push her to do something she didn't want. She was a very soft spoken and kind woman, I wonder what could have went wrong between her and my father. But later on, I concluded that maybe he did something that hurt her. That simple idea gave me so much motivation to hate him. If it's true, I don't know if I could ever forgive him.

A tear rolled down my cheek.

I miss you, Mother... I whispered silently. She was my home, my only peace in this palace. And now I have no one but... silence. Just empty silence.

She was a woman with ambitions. She had a dark past but she knew there was a future to live on. So why settle for less when she knew she deserved better?

In a world where she could not escape her father unless she married, Melrose hoped to marry a man who could free her from her chains. She aimed to marry the King of their land, for she knew he was the most powerful man, but now that was impossible. She had turned her dream into a nightmare, burning her future into ashes.

What had she done?

She didn't know. She didn't want to know.

With the royal guards chasing her and the whole town wanting her dead, there was no place to run. There was no one to depend on.

All she could do was to try to escape, try to outrun her hunters with the hopes to meet a savior along the way.

The forest at the northern part of Kingdom of Arden - the North Ridge was the place everyone feared. It was said to be cursed, that anyone who dared invade it never went back alive. They said creatures other than humans were living there. Creatures living for darkness.

For the people of Arden, the name North Ridge meant danger. There was even one time that a physician searching for herbal plants got lost in the woods and the next morning his corpse was found at the outskirts of the town. She did not have a chance to witness the sight with her own eyes but many said it was the most horrendous thing to see.

Only a faint light from the crescent moon was guiding Melrose. She had never wanted to roam around the dark, nor had she ever thought of entering the cursed forest. But tonight, she had enough courage to.

She could end up dying in the woods if all the tales were true, but dying that way seemed to be a little more noble than being publicly executed for killing the King - the highest form of treason one could do.

She didn't understand what went wrong. Yesterday she was the woman every girl in the kingdom envied as she was finally a step away from marrying the King.

Yet everything changed in just a snap.

She tripped many times but she didn't stop. She ran deep down the forest, never minding what was there waiting in the shadows. All she wanted was to get away from the royal guards for she was certain being captured by them meant a painful torture before death.

She heard the crackling of dry leaves under her feet and the sound of crickets that creeped her out, but there was no turning back. It was either run or surrender everything.

However, she went still after hearing a strange noise. The disturbing low growls from the dark made her feel cold. She turned her head to both sides but saw nothing but the tall trees surrounding her.

As terrified as she was, she was about to run again but when the faint light from the horizon showed what creatures surrounded her, she froze.

A pack of black wolves with obvious hunger gleaming in their red eyes.

She swallowed hard, her pulse racing fast and her heart pounding hard. Sweat trickled down her throat and chest. She didn't lack air to breathe but she was having a hard time breathing.

Her predators watched her intently as if one wrong move they would saunter forward to devour her.

Coming to the North Ridge was a mistake, she thought.

But what was worse? To be killed under these creatures' teeth and claws, or to be publicly executed like she was some animal at anyone's disposal?

She couldn't decide. She was a woman with pride. But could someone still think about pride in the middle of death?

Even though, how could she let those blind people strip all her dignity for a crime she didn't commit?

So maybe dying this way was better.

Instead of trying to escape the monsters she could never outrun, she just closed her eyes and waited for their sharp teeth to shred her into pieces.

After all, there was no one who would mourn for her if she died. There was nothing to be guilty for.

But contrary to her expected death, she heard the growls stopped. The harsh rustling of the dry leaves accompanied by rushing footsteps made her open her eyes by instinct.

She gasped as she found four men standing a step behind the wolves. The wolves now stood calmly as if they had recognized their masters.

How could these men be that fast?

She dared look at each one of them and saw how unearthly they looked in their all black clothes. The dark glint in their eyes told her that although they were incredibly good-looking, they were people one should never mess with.

"To whom do we owe this pleasure, Lady Lewis?" The man's deep voice sent shivers down her back.

How did they know her?

But if they were from this land, it wasn't impossible to know her. However, there was something off about them. Like they had this weird inhuman demeanor...

"Perhaps, are you lost, My Lady?" another asked, the corner of his lips curving up wickedly.

Before she could decide what to do, a blast of cold wind and a violent rustle of dry leaves from the ground came like a wave of turbulence.

The four men were divided by two as they stepped aside to give way to whoever it was in the shadows behind them.

There she saw him, the incarnation of darkness - the man who despised her more than anything.