He led her through a long corridor before stopping at a door.
With a quiet push, it opened.
Zephrine stepped inside.
The room was… large.
Not extravagant like a royal chamber—but far too grand for a maid. A wide bed stood against the wall, draped in black sheets. The air was cold, the curtains heavy, shutting out any hint of light. A wardrobe stood nearby, already filled with neatly arranged dresses—as if someone had been expecting her.
Her eyes scanned the space.
Then paused.
A small black cat sat curled near the edge of the bed, its soft fur blending into the shadows. It lifted its head, watching her with quiet curiosity.
For a brief moment—
Something about it felt… gentle.
Out of place.
Behind her, his voice broke the silence.
"So, princess," Azriel said smoothly, stepping inside, "this will be your room."
He moved further in, his presence immediately filling the space.
"Right next to mine."
Zephrine stiffened.
"You are my personal maid from now on," he continued, as if stating something ordinary. "Starting tomorrow morning—your duties begin."
Her attention snapped back to him.
He counted them off, almost lazily.
"You will prepare my breakfast, lunch, and dinner."
A step closer.
"You will handle my clothes—cleaning, arranging."
Another step.
"At night, you'll assist me."
His tone remained calm, but something about it made her chest tighten.
"And every day…" he added, his gaze locking onto hers, "…you will bring me coffee."
A pause.
Then—
"Most importantly…"
His voice dropped.
"You will serve me your blood."
Silence filled the room.
Zephrine's mind spun.
Her thoughts collided all at once—
How am I supposed to do this?
I don't know any of this—
I've never—
Oh God—
Azriel watched her, amusement flickering in his eyes.
He could hear it.
Every bit of it.
"If you don't know how to do any of that," he said casually, "you'll learn."
He turned slightly toward the door.
"Lady Diora—the head of the maids—will teach you."
Then he stepped closer again.
Close enough to remind her—there was no escaping him.
"And remember," he said quietly, his tone turning cold, "every act of defiance…"
A pause.
"…has consequences."
His gaze sharpened.
"Severe ones."
Zephrine swallowed, forcing herself to stay still.
"Got it?"
She didn't answer.
He tilted his head slightly.
"Got it?" he repeated, this time firmer.
"…Got it," she said softly.
"Good."
He straightened.
"And one more thing."
Her stomach tightened.
"You will address me properly."
A beat.
"From now on…"
His eyes darkened slightly.
"You call me Master."
The word felt heavy in the air.
Unnatural.
He looked at her expectantly.
"Call me what?" he asked.
Her throat tightened.
"M… Master."
His expression didn't change.
"I can't hear you."
Her hands clenched slightly.
"Master," she said louder this time, the word forced out.
Silence.
For a moment, he simply looked at her.
Then—
A faint, satisfied smile appeared.
"Good," he said.
He turned toward the door.
"Get some rest, princess."
A slight pause at the doorway.
"You'll need it."
The door closed behind him.
And just like that—
She was alone.
The room felt colder.
Heavier.
Zephrine stood there, unmoving, her thoughts still racing.
The word echoed in her mind.
Master.
Her jaw tightened.
Slowly, her gaze shifted toward the small black cat.
It blinked at her.
Quiet.
Watching.
For the first time since she woke up—
She exhaled.
But deep inside—
Something refused to break.
The room was silent.
Too silent.
Zephrine didn't move for a long time after he left. The echo of the door closing still lingered in her ears, like a final reminder—
There was no going back.
Slowly, her strength gave out.
She walked to the bed and collapsed onto it, face down, the black sheets cold against her skin.
For a moment, she just lay there.
Still.
Then—
Her shoulders trembled.
A quiet sob escaped her before she could stop it.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, soaking into the fabric beneath her.
"I want to go home…" she whispered, her voice breaking.
Her mind drifted—back to warmth, to light.
To her father's steady presence.
Her mother's gentle voice.
Laughter echoing through palace halls.
"Mother…" she whispered faintly. "Father…"
Her chest tightened painfully.
Then—
Lysandra.
Amaris.
Their faces flashed in her mind, their smiles, their voices, the way they would never let her feel alone.
A soft, broken laugh escaped her.
"They must be looking for me…"
But the thought didn't comfort her.
Not here.
Not in this place.
Not with him.
Her fingers clenched into the sheets.
And then—
Another face.
Uninvited.
Unexpected.
Kael.
She froze for a moment, her breath catching.
His calm voice.
The way he used to watch her during lessons—quiet, observant… something unspoken lingering in his gaze.
She had noticed.
She just never thought it mattered.
".. professor…" she murmured softly.
A strange ache settled in her chest.
Not the same as fear.
Not the same as loss.
Something quieter.
Something she didn't fully understand.
A tear slipped past her lashes again.
"I should've listened more…" she whispered, her voice fragile.
"I should've learned…"
Her grip tightened.
Maybe then—
She wouldn't be here.
The room felt colder.
Heavier.
But as the tears slowly faded, something else remained.
Not strength.
Not yet.
But a spark.
Faint.
Fragile.
Still there.
Time passed as her eyes drifted off where she was sweet dreams started somewhere as she curled in the sheets.
A faint light filtered through the heavy curtains.
Morning.
Zephrine stirred slowly, her body aching, her mind still heavy from everything that had happened. For a moment, she forgot where she was—
Then it all came rushing back.
The room.
The chains.
Him.
Her eyes opened fully.
A soft knock came at the door.
Before she could respond, it opened gently.
A woman stepped inside.
She wasn't like the others Zephrine had imagined. Her presence was calm, composed—her eyes kind, yet experienced, as if she had seen too much to be easily shaken.
"Good morning," she said softly. "You must be Zephrine."
Zephrine pushed herself up, still groggy.
"…Yes."
The woman gave a small nod.
"I am Diora," she said. "Head of the maids."
Her voice was gentle, almost comforting.
"Come," Diora added. "You should get ready."
There was no harshness in her tone—just quiet expectation.
Zephrine hesitated for a second… then nodded.
The dress laid out for her was different.
Black.
Elegant.
Fitted.
Not like a servant's uniform—something… refined.
It ended above her knees, designed for ease yet still carrying a strange sense of status.
Zephrine stared at it for a moment.
So this is what I am now…
A personal maid.
She changed in silence.
When she stepped out, Diora gave her an approving glance.
"It suits you," she said simply.
Zephrine didn't respond.
The kitchen was warm.
A stark contrast to the cold halls.
The scent of spices and freshly prepared ingredients filled the air. Other maids moved quietly, efficiently—but their eyes flickered toward Zephrine, curious, cautious.
Diora guided her forward.
"You'll start here," she said. "Cooking."
Zephrine blinked.
"I… don't know how."
Diora's expression didn't change.
"I know," she said calmly. "That's why you'll learn."
There was no judgment in her voice.
Only certainty.
"Watch first," Diora instructed.
Zephrine nodded.
She watched carefully—how Diora moved, how she handled the ingredients, the precision, the timing.
It looked… simple.
Until she tried.
Her first attempt—
Burnt.
"Sorry..."
Diora smiles "no its okay"
The second—
Undercooked.
Zephrine was already annoyed at this one
"I swear i checked it"
Diora chuckled "it's okay young lady sometimes half of the food is uncooked....try again"
The third—
Too much salt.
Zephrine checked it her face reaction said it all "aaaa.... poison!".
By the fourth, her hands were trembling.
By the fifth, frustration burned in her chest.
"I can't do this," she muttered under her breath.
Diora glanced at her.
"Yes, you can," she said quietly. "Again."
Zephrine clenched her jaw.
Sixth attempt.
She focused.
Remembered every movement.
Every step.
Slowly—
Carefully—
She finished.
Diora tasted it.
A pause.
Then—
"It's better."
Not perfect.
But not a failure.
For the first time that morning—
Zephrine exhaled and jumped "yes!" .
A small victory.
Diora looked at her, a faint softness in her gaze.
"You'll learn," she said.
Zephrine didn't reply.
But something shifted inside her.
Maybe she didn't know how to survive here yet.
But she would.
She had to.
Zephrine thought for a while then looked at diora "don't you think that salty food is good for master" then a low murmur "he deserves this".
Diora chuckled already amused "i see you already hate him huh?"
Zephrine looked clearly not buying it "he is the personality to be hated".
Diora placed her fingers on her lips "shhh...we aren't allowed to talk anything bad about dorentis family in the walls of his estate"
Zephrine eyes narrowing "dorentis family?... doesn't master live alone".
"No master doesn't, there are other family members but they aren't home currently....
All our out of estate for a month" diora says it placing food on the cart slowly.
Zephrine eyes narrowed
"But looking at master's rude and cold behavior i thought he lives alone" zephrine moved towards the cart helping diora.
Diora stopped for a while lost in a deep thoughts,
She took a deep sigh,
"Sometimes a deep traumatic past can change everything poor master , now go amd serve master before he gets angry fast"
Diora went out of the kitchen.
Zephrine wanted to ask more questions
What kind of trauma?
How was he before?
How many members in the esate?
Master's age? The most irrelevant question in zephrine's mind
Zephrine moved the cart forward
Moving through the corridor her hearr beat got more faster
Every step to Azriel's door seemed death that can't be denied.
Reaching at his door,
Knock.
Another knock.
"Come in"
The voice was calm and deep as always that would make a fine person startle.
Especially ZEPHRINE
zephrine enters taking the cart.
She didn't lift her head.
Nor did he glanced at her.
"You're breakfast"
Azriel fixed his glasses and glanced at her with the side of his eyes still holding his book, watching zephrine serving him gave him a glimpse of satisfaction.
After finishing serving Azriel he placed away his book.
Took a spoon.
Zephrine watched at him too calculatedly expecting any kind of expression on her food
Please tell me its good
Please...
Please it should be good
After a while putting the spoon away Azriel pushed the bowl.
As expected,
"Too much fluid..... i lost my appetite.."
Zephrine got crazy, that's it atleast he should appreciate it i as a princess first time cooked only for him and he huh...an ungrateful person
Azriel looked at her with a neutral expression
"Uhun .... careful with those words of yours princess"
He guestured her to come closer with his finger.
"If i told you myself what being ungrateful is ....you will be screaming for help".
His words were firm.
Calculated.
He pulled her on his lap holding her tight by her waist.
His fingers trailed her thighs softly but enough to make anyone tremble.
"You will be screaming my name...."
He looked at her as fingers moved.
Tracing from her neck to her collarbone.
The movement of his fingers really scared zephrine it felt like a shock through all her body.
Zephrine couldn't speak.
"....Every second i would be hearing my name from that sweet tongue of yours"
He traced her lips gently.
"....These lips of yours will be dripping blood for me"
his hands went again to her shoulders.
He pushed her dress from her shoulder revealing the spot where he bit before, it wasn't recovered yet.
Neither he wanted it to be recovered.
He traced the spot gently where he bit.
"..teach you who you belong to"
He placed a kiss to the bitten spot at her shoulder
Zephrine eyes widenend.
Her body reacted.
Her every bone did.
Her heart pounded fast.
Her body trembled under him.
Somehow praying to get away.
"Good princess"
The moment he said those words ,
His fangs sunk hard in her.
She felt blood being sucked.
Pain was flowing though her body.
She closed her eyes,as her fist curled around her dress tightly.
Azriel finally backed off
He pushed her from her laps cleaning the traces of blood on his lips with a piece of cloth his moments were gentle.
"You can go and take this food away"
Zephrine chest was still rising.
Pulling her shoulders.
She pulled the cart putting away the food.
Slowly moving towrads the room.
Shoe took a step out,
"And....."
Zephrine stopped
"Next time control your thoughts wisely"
Zephrine heard it
What should she say
Nothing
Ofcourse she will be accused for ignoring him
"Yes Master"
She siad the words closing the door behind him.
As she stepped in the corridor.
Her shoulders relaxed.
She knew she was out of danger zone.
No one can hear her thoughts.
"How can someone control his thoughts....."
"He is the one indulging in our private thoughts and then telling us to control.....
Rudeblood sucker ".
She moved down the corridor and someone in the corner was smirking endless