[Content Warning: This chapter contains themes of sexual violence/assault, which may be disturbing to some readers. Please read with caution]
***
Harmonia Calendar 715, Thal 23 - Ashspire City, Elandor
Afternoon - Reading Room
Favian led me down the hall, toward a small reading room.
He opened the door for me with practiced elegance.
Click.
The door closed softly.
He gestured toward the couch, voice gentle but firm.
"Sit. You look a little flushed."
I sat, not because I wanted to, but because his voice carried something that left no room for refusal.
He sat down beside me, not quite touching, but close enough.
I raised the cup again, more for something to do with my hands than thirst, and took another sip.
The world tilted again, subtle at first, then more.
My thoughts slowed.
His hand touched my cheek, warm and gentle.
I should have felt comfort in it.
But his touch—
"Are you unwell?"
—felt wrong.
I stammered, "No, Lord Favian…just a little light-headed."
He leaned in, and suddenly his hand wasn't on my cheek anymore but around my wrist.
His grip was firm, tight enough to hurt.
The smile remained on his face, but it had shifted. No longer charming, no longer kind.
"Relax. You are safe with me."
The words should have calmed me.
They didn't.
Instead, they pressed me down like a weight.
My chest tightened.
The room bent more and more, lights turning hazy.
I tried to pull my hand back, but his grip grew stronger.
My heart raced, breathing growing uneven.
His other hand gently grabbed my waist. Then went down, slowly, to the hem of my dress.
He lifted it and slid his hand under.
Something snapped inside me, and my mind slowed.
His fingers climbed up my legs, his skin touching mine.
They reached my thighs, his hand grabbed them softly, then firmer.
I panicked, my voice came out weak and small.
"Stop."
His hand stopped for a moment, red eyes looking into mine.
He leaned forward, whispering in my ear.
"Relax. You will like it."
I haven't even registered his words before his hand went further up, fingers sliding into my underwear.
The world tilted again.
My body trembled.
I wanted to move.
To push him.
But fear and shock paralysed me.
His fingers explored further. They touched where they shouldn't.
My mind went blank.
I could see, I could hear, even smell, but I felt like I wasn't in my body anymore.
I was just watching.
I didn't move.
I didn't resist.
I just wanted it to be over—to end.
He felt my resistance vanish and let my wrist free.
His now free hand reached for my upper dress, he pulled it down, and slid his fingers in my bosom.
I hated it.
I hated how I was paralysed by fear.
How I couldn't resist.
How I couldn't move.
How I could just watch him use my body as he wished.
His fingers stopped, and he leaned closer.
A smile curved his lips.
"I know you waited for this. You should be thankful."
His words stirred something inside me, and I snapped.
'Waited for this? Thankful?'
Fear lessened, replaced by disgust and anger.
I felt my arms again, the numbness vanishing for a moment.
But it was enough.
I gave it my all and pushed him, but he didn't move.
So I pushed harder and shouted.
"Help!"
The shout wasn't loud, but it was enough.
His hands stopped.
I heard footsteps.
The door opened.
Fresh air poured in.
The room tilted even more.
My eyelids felt heavy, but I saw a last glimpse of him.
The Ashspire crest on his cloak as he slipped through the service door.
Guards rushed to me, their hands steadying me.
I felt disgusted by their touch.
The surroundings grew fainter, and my memories more jumbled.
I used the last bits of my strength to speak.
"It was... Ashspire."
And everything turned dark.
***
Late Afternoon - Favian's Room
Thud.
The door slammed shut behind me, the sound echoing loudly, but I didn't care.
My palms pressed against the wood, breath harsh until it calmed.
Calm came first.
Then anger.
It clawed its way back up my chest.
My hands pressed harder, nails biting into wood.
'Why did she shout? I gave her attention. She should have been grateful.'
I drew a sharp breath, hands dragging down the door before I forced them free.
My legs moved with unsteady steps toward the desk—a drink. I needed something to drown the fire in my chest.
I reached for the bottle on my desk, then a cup, wine spilled dark into the glass.
One sip.
Then another.
It helped, but it didn't silence the sound in my head.
Their whispers.
I could almost hear them now.
"She screamed."
"Favian Ashspire did this."
"Not an heir. A disgrace."
I closed my eyes and faces formed.
Sneers, sidelong glances, disdain behind courtly smiles.
Their voices layered, drowning the silence.
My jaw clenched, and my eyes opened.
I lifted my gaze to the mirror.
My reflection.
The smile slid back on, soft, charming, gentle.
The one I'd trained since childhood.
Anger left, and clarity took its place.
I spoke to the man in the mirror.
"She will talk. Her father will demand justice. He will want a head."
I could see them already.
Baron Loubane's scowl, nobles whispering in corners, voices dripping with disdain, and father's cold eyes.
I clenched the cup.
There had to be a way out.
There always was.
I lifted my gaze to the man in the mirror again as I spoke, options I'd used before, I knew could work.
"Deny."
His eyes narrowed, voice firm.
"Too many eyes."
I tried again, less certain.
"Silencing."
He lifted a hand in dismissal.
"Not with a baron's daughter."
I leaned closer, my voice rose with confidence.
"A bribe."
His head shook, a cold smile on his lips.
"Not with his daughter as the victim."
I swallowed, voice falling to a murmur.
"A scapegoat?"
The reflection stilled.
Silence.
I met his eyes, and he met mine.
We spoke as one.
"Perfect."
My thoughts sharpened. I planned the next move.
"A servant?"
His reply was immediate, voice flat.
"Too low."
I pressed further.
"A knight?"
He shook his head.
"Too loyal."
Silence stretched.
Then one name rose above the rest.
We spoke it together.
"Adonis."
I saw him in my mind.
Standing too straight, smiling too softly, earning glances that should have been mine.
I could already hear the whispers, see the nods twisting into judgment.
"He was seen with her."
The man in the mirror added the second knife.
"He spoke with her."
I finished, voice low, deliberate.
"He forgot his place. We'll show it to him again."
I set the cup down with a quiet click, my hand steady.
"Father. You will help me."