Chapter 145: ...Me?
Aria arrived at the mill early.
Very early. Considerably earlier than was strictly necessary, in truth. The morning sun had barely begun to paint the distant, jagged horizon in delicate shades of pale gold and muted slate gray when she quietly slipped through the fractured, rotting doorway of the ancient wooden building. High above, dust motes danced in the fragile, piercing shafts of morning light, swirling lazily through the still air like tiny, luminescent specters floating in suspended animation.
She had spent the entire preceding morning preparing endlessly for this crucial meeting, meticulously checking and rechecking every step of the intricate plan in her head, over and over again until her temples throbbed. The army would arrive in tandem with Kelme. They would execute a quiet, deliberate approach from the winding southern road. Aria, meanwhile, would already be positioned safely inside. She would allow the treacherous Edward Colston to lay eyes upon her present form—the regal, mysterious White Princess. Kelme would then step forward to confirm her true identity to the commanders. The surrounding army would close the net, swiftly encircling the dilapidated structure. And then—utter, absolute chaos.
Under the cover of that calculated madness, she would simply disappear. She would shed her disguise, change back into her true form, turn off the illusion mask, and let everyone else deal with the violent, chaotic aftermath.
Simple. Perfect. Probably.
Aria took another deliberate step through the broken doorway of the old mill, the heavy, shimmering fabric of her pristine white dress brushing against the rough, debris-strewn floorboards. Fine dust floated upward through the pale, chilly morning light, catching the sharp golden sunbeams like microscopic golden particles magically suspended in time. The place was precisely as Colston had detailed it in his previous correspondence—abandoned, eerie, quiet, and completely empty.
A tight, self-satisfied smile touched her lips.
"Good."
She paused, looking down at the stark white dress draped over her shoulders. Truthfully, it had been a completely ridiculous purchase when she first acquired it. It was still absurdly impractical, all things considered. But at the very least, it fit her current shape now. She had already taken on the intricate, beautiful shape of the White Princess well before stepping foot near the mill’s perimeter. Originally, her strategy had been to shapeshift only at the exact moment Colston made his arrival. But then a practical reality had dawn upon her—the luxurious dress didn’t fit her normal, everyday body in the slightest, and she had zero interest in awkwardly changing forms back and forth in a dusty ruin just to make a point. So, she had simply opted to stay in the royal form beforehand. It was vastly easier.
She walked farther into the gloomy expanse of the mill, her deliberate footsteps echoing with hollow resonance throughout the vast, cavernous space. The ancient wooden floorboards groaned softly beneath her weight, protesting every stride, while somewhere high above in the shadowed rafters, an unseen bird fluttered its wings nervously.
Then, mid-stride, she stopped dead in her tracks.
Someone was sitting silently in the deepest shadows of the darkness.
Aria’s confident smile instantly vanished.
It was Edward Colston. He was already present, lurking in the gloom. He rose slowly from his resting place, casually brushing invisible flecks of dust from the lapels of his immaculate coat, his physical movements entirely unhurried, chillingly deliberate.
"You’re early."
Aria forced her smile to return, plastering it onto her face with practiced ease. "So are you."
"I wanted to be absolutely certain." He took a smooth step forward into the pool of morning light, revealing clothes that were perfectly pressed, without a single speck of dust or a solitary wrinkle marring their pristine surface. It was a bizarre, almost absurd sight considering the filthy, crumbling ruin they were standing in. Then, his lips curved into a cold, calculated smile. "Perfect."
An immediate, instinctive sense of discomfort coiled tightly in Aria’s chest.
"My love."
She nearly twitched at the sickening moniker, forced to exert every ounce of willpower not to visibly physically react. Don’t react, she commanded herself. She maintained the false smile. "Good morning."
Colston let his sharp eyes roam over the empty hall around them. "Where is the other man?"
Aria tilted her head with practiced, gentle innocence. "He’s coming."
"With the slaves?"
"Yes."
It was a complete, calculated lie. There were no slaves waiting in the brush. There were only heavily armed soldiers. And at this very moment, Kelme was somewhere down on the winding southern road, marching alongside enough fully equipped men to bring a swift, decisive end to Colston’s entire vile operation.
Colston’s smile broadened slightly. Then, without the slightest hint of warning, he snapped his head toward the broken entrance. Aria instantly followed his gaze, her heart skipping a beat. Nothing. Only the quiet rustle of leaves outside.
He turned his head back to face her. Aria kept her smile firmly pinned in place. "What?"
"Nothing." He began walking closer to her—stepping well past the boundaries of polite distance, standing far too close for comfort. Aria resisted the overwhelming urge to take a step backward.
"You know," Colston mused, his voice dripping with smooth intrigue, "I expected you to be nervous."
"I’m a little nervous."
"You’re exceptionally good at hiding it."
"I practice."
He let out a low laugh. Aria joined in, laughing with him in a smooth display of artificial harmony. But on the inside, her mind was frantically racing, counting the passing seconds with desperate precision. Come on, Kelme. Hurry up.
Colston cast another lingering look toward the hollow doorway. "It doesn’t matter."
"What doesn’t?"
"The other man."
Aria paused, her polite composure faltering for a fraction of a second. "What?"
"I only wanted you."
Her carefully maintained smile froze instantly on her face. "...Me?"
Colston gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Yes."
Aria’s mind scrambled to make sense of his words. That wasn’t the deal they had struck. What was he even talking about? She forced her tone to remain light and unbothered, hiding the rising panic in her gut. "But it would be rather difficult to do business without the people we discussed."
Colston laughed again—a quiet, horribly intimate sound that sent a chill down her spine. "I don’t think you truly understand." He strolled casually toward a weathered, rotting wooden table, his gloved fingers trailing carelessly across its filthy, rough surface. "I’ve been investigating you."
Aria’s stomach tightened into a hard, cold knot. "What do you mean?"
"It’s my profession, after all." He brought his motion to a halt, resting his hand flat on the dusty wood. "I learn things about people. Secrets, histories, roots."
Aria forced a small, lighthearted laugh to escape her throat. "Did you?"
"Not much." He turned his penetrating gaze directly upon her. "That’s precisely what made you so endlessly fascinating."
Aria’s smile grew distinctly more guarded and careful. "I don’t understand."
"I couldn’t find where you live."
She said nothing, her expression a rigid mask.
"I couldn’t find a single trace of your family."
Still, she remained completely silent.
"Your associates are remarkably difficult to track."
Still nothing; she barely dared to breathe.
"And every lead I followed, every single trail, eventually dissolves into utter meaninglessness." Colston’s smile turned unsettlingly sharp. "You almost made me believe that you don’t actually exist at all."
Aria let out a soft, melodic laugh, desperately trying to play off the chilling accuracy of his words. On the inside, however, her thoughts were screaming in absolute horror. Creepy. He had managed to figure out an alarming amount of the truth. But, mercifully, he hadn’t uncovered everything.
"Maybe I’m simply a private person," she offered coolly.
"Perhaps." He tilted his head, inspecting her like a curious specimen. "For a moment, I genuinely believed you resided somewhere far outside the reach of the city."
Aria raised a singular, perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Somewhere?"
"Somewhere hidden." His eyes glinted with sinister amusement. "Perhaps even in a cave."
Aria almost laughed out loud for real from sheer shock. He had actually managed to guess it. The secret sugar cave. The hidden heart of their entire covert operation. Their deepest, most guarded secret. And he had somehow stumbled upon the exact reality. But as she watched his smug expression, she realized the truth: he didn’t actually know for sure. He hadn’t confirmed a thing. He had merely thrown out an educated guess.
Aria offered a careless, elegant shrug. "Do I look like someone who lives in a dark, filthy cave?"
Colston let his eyes wander slowly over her immaculate, glittering white gown, assessing her from head to toe. "No." His smile relaxed slightly. "Of course not."
Aria resisted the powerful, burning urge to roll her eyes at his arrogance. "Then why waste so much energy trying to investigate me?"
"Because I wanted to know how strong you were."
That single statement made her pause, catching her off guard. "What?"
"You aren’t an ordinary merchant." His smooth voice lowered, growing quieter, thicker with a dark, intense fascination. "I’ve seen plenty of people lie before in my line of work. I’ve seen weak people pretend to be powerful. I’ve seen powerful people pretend to be weak." He took another step toward her, closing the remaining distance. "But you..." His smile widened, revealing a predatory glint. "I couldn’t find anything at all."
Aria’s right hand twitched imperceptibly at her side. "You couldn’t find out how strong I am?"
"No."
"Then why are you so strangely interested?"
Colston’s entire expression subtly shifted—something dark, twisted, and deeply possessive flickering just beneath the surface of his eyes. "Because I needed to know how much force is needed to deal with you."
Aria stared at him, a deep sense of dread washing over her. There was something deeply, disturbingly wrong with the manner in which he said those words. It wasn’t simple intellectual curiosity. It was a terrifying hunger for possession. It was the exact same cold, calculated interest he undoubtedly showed whenever he identified a rare object or a human life he fully intended to acquire for his collection.
"You’ve built your entire life around collecting people," Aria said, her voice dropping its warm facade, hardening into cold reality.
Colston’s smile didn’t break. "Collecting?"
"Capturing."
His smile didn’t disappear in the slightest; if anything, it grew more pronounced. "You understand me so much better than most."
Aria darted a quick, desperate glance over his shoulder toward the empty doorway. Still nothing. The morning air outside remained mockingly silent. Where in the world was Kelme? Where was the army that was supposed to have secured the perimeter minutes ago?
Colston continued to speak, his tone smooth, measured, and agonizingly unhurried. "I’ve spent many long years seeking out and finding individuals with truly unusual, remarkable qualities."
"How noble of you," she spat sarcastically.
"Strength. Intelligence. Discipline. Adaptability. Pure as white." His dark eyes locked onto hers with unsettling focus. "You possess all four."
A deep wave of revulsion and utter disgust surged through Aria’s chest. "I don’t belong to you. Or to anyone."
"Not yet."
That was the absolute limit. Aria’s polite, practiced smile vanished entirely, replaced by a expression of fierce disdain. "Excuse me?"
Colston calmly pressed on, entirely unfazed by her sudden coldness. "You’ve fundamentally misunderstood the entire nature of this situation."
"What situation?"
"You operating under the foolish assumption that you were selling something to me today." He smiled softly, as if explaining a simple lesson to a child. "But the reality is, you are the valuable thing I came here to acquire."
Aria stood frozen, staring at him in stunned silence. For several long, tense seconds, neither of them made a single movement. The air in the mill grew heavy and suffocating. Then, a sharp, bitter laugh escaped her lips—not because a single part of this was amusing, but because she simply could not believe how utterly, spectacularly wrong this entire plan had gone.
"You are completely, wildly insane."
Colston’s smile remained unwavering. "And you are turned out to be exactly as difficult and stubborn as I expected."
Aria slowly raised her right hand, her posture shifting into a defensive stance. Instantly, crackling brilliant light began gathering around her fingertips, glowing with dangerous intensity. "You really should have brought more guards."
Colston’s smile widened into a full, menacing grin. "I did."
Aria fired. A brilliant, blazing beam of concentrated light shot across the shadowed room, cutting through the dusty gloom and aiming directly for Colston’s chest. But inches before it reached him, the devastating bolt struck a solid, invisible barrier. The sheer impact sent shockwaves through the air as a shimmering, magical shield flared into vivid existence for a brief, blinding moment, absorbing the full force of her spell before fading back into the air.
Aria’s eyes widened in genuine shock. "What?"
A tall, heavily armored figure casually stepped out from behind a massive stone pillar. Then another emerged from the deep darkness of a far corner. Then a third. Then a fourth. Aria’s remaining composure shattered entirely, her smile vanishing without a trace.
Colston took a smooth, deliberate step backward, taking refuge behind his hidden enforcement. His face was a picture of calm, unshakeable satisfaction. "I never take uncalculated chances."
More armed guards stepped out from the dense, suffocating shadows hanging over the perimeter of the room. They had been silently waiting there the entire time, motionless and patient, their dark, intimidating forms perfectly concealed in the deep recesses of the old mill. Aria frantically scanned the room, counting them in her head as they appeared—six, eight, ten. Still more were pouring in from the hidden passages, their black leather armor and polished weapons signaling undeniable professionalism, their calculated movements executed with practiced, military discipline.
These were not ordinary street thugs or cheap mercenaries hired for brute force. They were elite, highly trained operatives.
Colston folded his hands behind his back with absolute elegance. "I had no idea how powerful you truly were," he admitted freely, watching her every move.
Aria glared past the surrounding men, her eyes locked onto Colston with burning intensity. "So you brought an army?"
"Not an army." His smile returned, cruel and self-assured. "Just enough."
Another heavily armed guard stepped forward into the morning light, drawing a long, gleaming blade. Then another moved to block the rear exit. Aria’s heart pounded violently against her ribs as her pulse accelerated to a dangerous speed. The entire plan had completely collapsed into ruin. The army was supposed to surround Colston, trapping him in a swift, bloodless victory. Instead, she was the one caught in a deadly, tightly closed net. Looking around at the formidable force in the room, she realized with a sickening thud in her chest that she didn’t even believe the local garrison army Kelme was retrieving possessed this sheer number of elite, battle-hardened troops.
She frantically cut her eyes toward the main entrance once more. Nothing. No signs of movement on the horizon. No Kelme. No marching soldiers. No help arriving to break the siege.
Colston monitored her panic with careful, analytical enjoyment. "You see, this exact outcome is precisely why I never trust absolute strangers."
𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖
Aria tightly clenched her fists, magic crackling violently across her knuckles. "You really should have."
He let out a short, hollow laugh. "No." On his unspoken command, his guards began to spread out in a wide, synchronized circle, moving with terrifying efficiency to enclose her entirely. "Trust is a foolish flaw. Trust gets people killed."
Aria assessed every single one of the men moving against her—professionals, heavily armed, perfectly positioned, and completely prepared for a fight. And worst of all, it was painfully clear that they hadn’t just been standing guard; they had been lying in wait specifically for her arrival.
Colston’s dark expression lightened, becoming almost cheerful as he watched her struggle against the overwhelming odds. "You came here today wanting to bring me something truly valuable."
Aria glared at him, her chest heaving as she prepared herself for the inevitable violence. "I changed my mind."
"Unfortunately..." He extended a gloved hand, gesturing casually toward the ring of armed mercenaries closing in on her. "...so have I."
Aria’s internal magic flared back to life with desperate strength, golden light pulsing blindingly in her open palms, casting long, frantic shadows across the broken wooden walls.
Colston offered one final, cold smile. "Don’t worry." He took one slow, deliberate step backward into the safety of his inner circle. "They’ll make sure you don’t leave."
Aria’s eyes narrowed into sharp, lethal slits. "Try me."
The guards moved as one.
Somewhere outside the perimeter of the mill, far down the winding path, Kelme finally caught his first clear sight of the old building. The massive, weather-beaten structure loomed darkly against the pale morning sky, its silhouette imposing and foreboding against the soft hues of dawn. He paused on the dirt road, his eyes shifting nervously to scan the heavily armed soldiers marching in tight formation around him. He looked back at the silent mill, then turned his gaze toward the stern face of the army captain standing beside him.
"Something’s wrong."
The captain halted, pulling his horse to a sudden stop, his brow furrowing deeper into a frown. "Why do you say that?"
Kelme stared intently at the shadowed entrance of the mill, his eyes frantically sweeping the surrounding treeline and the quiet pathway for any familiar sign of Aria’s presence. "Because she was supposed to be waiting outside."
He was lying, of course. Aria was never meant to be standing out in the open; her strict instruction had been to leave a subtle, pre-arranged physical mark near the treeline to signal that the approach was clear and the cave operation was secure. But as he searched the designated spot, he saw nothing. No mark. No signal. And now, standing on the cold road, watching the heavy, suffocating silence hanging over the abandoned mill, a chilling certainty washed over him: something had gone terribly, catastrophically wrong.
Inside the quiet ruins of the building, surrounded on all sides, Aria stood entirely alone against a formidable wall of armed, ruthless men. For the very first time since this dangerous plan had been conceived, she wasn’t just putting on an act or pretending to be cornered for the sake of a trap. She actually was trapped.
And Colston? He was standing in the shadows, smiling.
The trap had closed with terrifying precision—around the wrong person entirely.