Chapter 115: A questionable change
Lucrezia remained still in the bath long after he had gone. The scented water curled softly around her skin, steam rising in slow ribbons through the dim light of the chamber, yet none of it calmed the chaos in her chest.
Her fingers lifted unconsciously toward where his hand had rested earlier against her arm. The memory alone made her stomach flutter again.
Softly clearing her throat, she reached for the cloth beside the tub and dipped it into the warm water, carefully washing the remaining soap from her skin. Every movement pulled faintly at her muscles, soreness lingering deep beneath the surface, though thankfully not enough to stop her entirely.
Once she finished, the servants returned almost immediately, as though they had been waiting just beyond the doors. Relief washed through her at the sight of the brown-skinned maid again.
The young woman approached quietly, helping Lucrezia out of the bath with surprising gentleness before wrapping a thick robe around her shoulders. The fabric was soft and warm, carrying the faint scent of cedarwood and smoke—his scent again.
For some reason, that only made her more nervous.
"This way, my lady," the maid said softly.
Lucrezia allowed herself to be guided toward the vanity resting near the far side of the chamber.
The room looked different now that she was no longer half-conscious. It was large and daunting, irrespective of the faint touches of less intimidating colors. And also beautiful in a way that felt ancient rather than welcoming.
Black stone arched overhead, lined with silver engravings that caught faintly in the candlelight. Heavy curtains framed the towering windows, though little daylight managed to slip through them. A fire crackled quietly somewhere behind her, its warmth weaving through the cold atmosphere of the room.
It felt like him, cold at first glance, dangerous if approached carelessly, yet strangely warm beneath it all. Lucrezia lowered herself carefully onto the cushioned stool before the vanity while the servants moved around her with practiced ease.
For a while, they dressed her in silence.
One brushed out the tangles from her damp hair while another rubbed sweet-smelling oil gently into her skin. Soft fabrics layered over her body afterward—lighter than the dresses she usually wore, though no less elegant. The gown was cream-colored with silver embroidery threaded delicately along the sleeves and neckline, the fabric flowing softly around her figure.
Lucrezia stared faintly at her reflection. She barely recognized herself.
"You look lovely," the brown-skinned maid murmured kindly.
Heat rose to Lucrezia’s cheeks. "T-Thank you."
The maid smiled a little before reaching for a silver comb. "Lord Vaeron requested something comfortable."
At his name, Lucrezia’s stomach betrayed her with another nervous flutter. One of the younger servants noticed immediately.
A knowing smile nearly spread across her lips before the older maid shot her a warning glance sharp enough to silence her at once.
Lucrezia pretended not to notice any of it. Though judging by how warm her face suddenly felt, she doubted she was convincing anyone.
The final strands of her hair were pinned loosely away from her face before the servants stepped back at last.
"There," the maid said softly. "Much better."
Lucrezia looked at herself again. Her cheeks still held traces of exhaustion, and faint shadows lingered beneath her eyes, but at least she no longer looked as though death had nearly claimed her.
The thought made her chest tighten. The fair. The attack.
Her fingers curled instinctively in her lap.
A sudden knock interrupted the spiraling thoughts before they could settle deeper, and every servant in the room immediately straightened.
Then the doors opened, and a woman stepped inside. Tall and composed, she carried herself with the kind of effortless authority that made the entire chamber seem smaller around her. Golden hair, braided intricately over one shoulder, gleamed beneath the candlelight, while sharp dark eyes swept across the room with quiet precision.
Lucrezia recognized her immediately. It was Rheonara.
The servants bowed at once. "My lady," the brown-skinned maid greeted softly.
Rheonara gave a small nod before her gaze shifted toward Lucrezia. For a moment, neither spoke.
Then the woman stepped further into the chamber, dark robes whispering against the floor. Something was intimidating about her, always intimidating, refined in a way that reminded Lucrezia of sharpened steel hidden beneath silk.
"You look far better than the previous weeks," Rheonara said at last.
She nearly choked at the latter. Weeks?! Was that how long she’d been unconscious?
Lucrezia didn’t know whether to feel complimented or insulted, but she swallowed nonetheless. "T-Thank you."
Her gaze lingered on Lucrezia a second longer before softening almost imperceptibly. "I came to see how you were recovering."
The servants quietly resumed gathering the bathing cloths and trays around the room, careful not to interrupt.
Lucrezia lowered her eyes briefly. "I am well enough now, I think."
"That is fortunate,"
Something about the way Rheonara said it made Lucrezia glance back up, as though many had expected otherwise.
Rheonara moved toward the nearby table, fingers brushing lightly against the untouched food arranged there. "You should eat before the healers begin complaining to the entire palace that you are difficult,"
A faint smile tugged briefly at Lucrezia’s lips before fading again. The silence that followed was quieter and measured this time.
Then her gaze traveled across the room, and for the first time since entering, something almost resembling amusement touched Rheonara’s face, brief enough that Lucrezia nearly thought she imagined it.
"How unexpected," Rheonara murmured.
Lucrezia blinked softly. "My lady?"
Rheonara’s eyes moved slowly across the chamber again, taking in details Lucrezia herself had barely noticed until now. The heavy black curtains that usually swallowed the light had been drawn back just enough for pale daylight to spill through the tall windows. A fire burned low within the hearth, warming the room with the scent of cedar and woodsmoke instead of the biting cold she imagined this place once carried. Even the sharp edges of the chamber seemed... softened somehow, not entirely. But one who lived long enough would tell that no room belonging to Vaeron could ever truly feel welcoming.
The dark stone walls still loomed heavily, and shadows still lingered stubbornly in the corners like creatures refusing to leave. But there was warmth here now, small traces of it enough to feel unnatural against everything she knew of him.
Rheonara huffed a quiet breath through her nose. "I never imagined I would live long enough to see this chamber look... inhabited."
Lucrezia lowered her gaze slightly, uncertain how to respond.
Rheonara stepped toward the fireplace, fingers brushing lightly against the mantle. "Vaeron has always preferred the cold," she said casually. "Darkness. Silence. Most people can barely endure standing in this room for more than a few moments," She confessed, and her eyes slid toward Lucrezia then. "And yet somehow, it no longer feels like a crypt."
Lucrezia’s heartbeat stumbled.
The woman’s gaze sharpened with quiet understanding, as though she had already pieced together more than Lucrezia wished her to.
"Shouldn’t that be... a good thing?" She asked, unsure whether to feel relaxed or alarmed. If what she said was true, then it certainly was a good thing.
"I was quite surprised when I heard he brought you into his personal chamber," Rheonara admitted, abruptly changing the conversation. "Especially considering he dislikes people touching his space,"
Something about those words made heat creep furiously into Lucrezia’s cheeks.
A slow smirk tugged faintly at the corner of her lips. "You must be special," and added at the end.
The word struck harder than it should have.
Special? She thought. It felt dangerous hearing it aloud. Wrong, almost, like something forbidden had suddenly been dragged into the light for others to see.