Chapter 110: Fresh scent
Fresh scent
Lucrezia woke up to the soreness of her muscles. It settled deep within her muscles, dull and heavy, as though her body no longer belonged entirely to her. Even shifting slightly beneath the covers sent a wave of soreness through her limbs. A quiet breath escaped her as her brows pulled together, her consciousness gradually returning. She blinked, once, twice, in an attempt to regain clear sight.
She hums in her sleep, joy leaping up, nostalgia pulling at her. Lucrezia turned her face toward that shining warmth, but she couldn’t quite make it, couldn’t quite feel it.
Another silken graze over her brow, and she managed to open her eyes fully this time, only for a burst of pain to greet her. Lucrezia blinked against the pulse that triggers through her skull, just as everything rushes back.
Her entire body stiffened as she held to the present, and looked around to the artistic ceiling that greeted her sight, followed by the soft crackles of fire logs burning at a distance.
For several seconds, she lay there with her eyes half-opened, trying to gather herself through the lingering haze clouding her thoughts. She could perceive the unmistakable scent of woodsmoke which reached her next, tingling her nostrils.
It wasn’t the faint smoke of kitchens or burning candles, but something darker... and richer, mixed with cedarwood and the cold scent of rain-soaked stone. Why did it smell so familiar?
The ceiling above her was unfamiliar with dark wood stretched overhead, carved with patterns she did not recognize. Heavy curtains hung along stone walls lit only by the low glow of lanternlight. As her consciousness gradually dawned, everything about the room felt different somehow.
If she wasn’t hallucinating, Lucrezia would’ve thought how this room reminded her of him. The ambiance was strikingly familiar that she could barely recognize her own room anymore. Or was she wrong?
Lucrezia stiffened instantly. This was not her room.
"You’ll dislocate your neck if you keep up with that position,"
A monotone voice spoke from a distance, so cold it made her poor heart take a wild leap away from her chest, returning with heavy thumps that pounded viscously in her ears, which was enough to make her dizzy.
Lucrezia’s gaze moved quickly across the chamber until it stopped at the figure seated near the far corner.
Vaeron.
Relief and panic hit her all at once, almost making her chest seem lighter and her stomach knotted all the same. Unlike his usual armor, he was dressed simply in a white frock that clung neatly against broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled slightly past his wrists, while dark trousers disappeared beneath crossed legs.
One arm rested against the chair lazily, though nothing about him ever truly looked relaxed. For the first time again, Lucrezia noticed his long hair wasn’t neatly combed as usual, but was disheveled. Despite that state, it didn’t make him any less charming. Even sitting still, he carried that same dangerous stillness around him which made him all the more... captivating.
Gods, how could a creature be so beautifully made? Lucrezia hated how unfairly beautiful he was.
From the state of his appearance, she could tell the creature had hardly closed his eyes since she’d lost consciousness. Vaeron looked composed as ever, but there was a faint exhaustion lingering beneath the surface — the kind one only noticed when they looked closely enough.
Lucrezia knew a creature like him likely felt indifferent to human needs such as sleep, yet the realization still stirred something in her chest.
The moment his eyes held hers, her heart skipped, breath seizing when those eyes found hers. Those hazel eyes always unsettled and intrigued her more than she could admit.
"M-Milord..."
The words barely left her properly. At least, it was the only words her brain could form at that state of utter trance.
Vaeron said nothing at first. He only studied her for a quiet moment, his gaze moving carefully across her face as though confirming something to himself.
"You’re awake."
His voice was so calm and low, which made everything worse.
Lucrezia tried pushing herself upright only to wince immediately from the soreness that ran through her body.
"Don’t," She heard him say.
Just one word that seemed to freeze her in place. Her blood ran cold all over again as reality settled fully into place.
She was alone with him in his chambers. The realization made her heartbeat stumble wildly against her chest.
"But—," She argued, but her voice came out terribly hoarse. Gods, she sounded like someone dragged back from the grave.
"You’ll tear the wounds open again, little wolf," he said quietly, his gaze lowering briefly to where she clutched her side. "And trust me, the last thing either of us needs is for me to catch the scent of fresh blood."
Lucrezia caught the unmistakable restraint in his voice that made her blood run cold. H-He’s hungry, she thought. He needs to feed.
But realizing how vulnerable her position was only seemed to frighten her the most. She was totally and utterly under his mercy.
As if he read her thoughts, his eyes darkened. "I’m not the monster you think of me," he said.
At his words, Lucrezia went still.
The words settled strangely in her chest, too soft for a creature like him, and entirely too human. Her heartbeat answered before her mind could, sharp and uneven against her ribs. D-Did she wake up on the wrong side of the bed?
Then, as if he realized the absurdity of what he had just said, a certain coldness crossed his face. "No," he murmured, leaning back into the shadows. "That would imply I am not a monster at all."
Lucrezia swallowed. Yet even with the ice returning to his voice, she could not shake the unsettling fact that he stayed and watched over her instead of leaving her alone.
Suddenly, her mind returned to the disaster that occurred at the fair, and her stomach sank.
Vespera.
At once, a sudden silence stretched briefly between them before he rose from the chair, and that movement alone made her tense, instantly breaking her line of thought.
He was taller standing like this, and somehow worse. The lanternlight caught against the ruthless scars across his face while shadows settled naturally around him as they belonged there. However, instead of approaching immediately, he merely lifted two fingers.
Snap. Snap.
The sound echoed softly through the chamber, and almost immediately, the doors opened. Several servants entered swiftly and silently, each lowering their heads respectfully. Some carried silver trays filled with food—the scent alone nearly made her dizzy with hunger.
Lucrezia could already tell when her eyes took a single glance across the trays filled with fresh bread, roasted meat glazed in herbs, fruits, and tea steaming softly beside delicate dishes.
Her stomach tightened painfully. It was only then that she realized just how starving she truly was.
The moment her eyes lingered too long on the trays, her stomach betrayed her entirely with a loud, humiliating growl that echoed through the chamber.
Lucrezia froze. Heat rushed violently into her cheeks at once.
Gods.
She wanted the floor to split open and swallow her whole—especially when she realized Vaeron had not once looked away from her. His gaze remained fixed on hers with quiet, unbearable awareness.
One corner of his mouth nearly twitched, nearly, and she quickly tore her gaze away.
Others moved toward a section beyond an arched doorway where steam already curled faintly into the room. She could tell that it was the bathing chamber.
Lucrezia blinked in surprise as servants poured fresh steaming water into a large stone tub while others added oils and crushed herbs that released calming scents into the air. One servant poured the oils into the bath while another adjusted the fire beneath it to keep the water warm. The scent of herbs and cedar slowly drifted through the room.
Lavender and wintermine, she noted, with something floral she couldn’t name. At once, the room slowly filled with warmth, but it didn’t entirely shift the eeriness it was built on.