Chapter 117: Resemblance
The servants were polite enough, though even their kindness often carried distance beneath it. She could feel it in the way some avoided touching her directly, or how others stared a second too long before looking away, exactly the treatment she received back in Veximoor.
And Vaeron... there was no sign of him anywhere, not after that morning. At first, Lucrezia told herself she was relieved. It was better and safer this way. Yet as the days stretched into weeks, something unfamiliar began settling unpleasantly beneath her ribs each time the chamber doors opened and it was never him standing there.
Ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
Today, however, was different. For the first time since the attack, Lucrezia no longer woke with pain dragging through every limb. Thankfully, the soreness faded greatly, leaving behind only faint weakness that no longer threatened to collapse her where she stood.
So after much hesitation—and despite the maid’s clear disapproval, Lucrezia finally decided to leave the chamber. She had tried convincing them that she would be fine on her own, but it was useless. They refused to let her go without an escort.
In the end, Lucrezia relented, unable to argue with them any further. Surrounded by several attendants, she stepped into the corridor, the hem of her gown brushing softly against the cold stone floor. The corridor beyond Vaeron’s chamber was colder than she expected.
A pale draft slipped through the narrow arches, raising gooseflesh along her arms. She shivered and drew the sleeves closer around herself, instantly regretting ignoring the maids’ warnings.
She had spent too many days confined to her chamber, surrounded by the bitter scent of herbs and medicinal draughts. After what had transpired at the fair, they had insisted she remain in bed until she was fully recovered.
But she could no longer bear it. She wanted air. Something clean and cold that did not smell of crushed leaves and boiled roots.
Her fingers curled lightly around the fabric of her gown as she moved farther down the corridor in cautious steps. She was still weaker than she cared to admit.
Tall windows lined the stone walls, allowing pale winter light to spill across the dark floors in silver streaks. Servants moved quietly through the halls carrying trays, folded linens, and baskets of herbs, though more than a few slowed when they noticed her.
Some stared openly while others quickly looked away. Lucrezia’s pulse stumbled but she folded her hands together tightly as she walked. Despite her effort to remain invisible, it was quite impossible.
She still had not learned how to understand the strange world she had been thrown into—the realm of creatures she had been taught to fear, secrets she was never meant to uncover, and a husband whose very existence should have been impossible to comprehend.
Yet here she was, wandering the corridors of their world as though she belonged. It terrified her, however, a part of her felt adapted to the hostility.
The castle itself was beautiful in a haunting sort of way. Towering archways curved overhead, carved with ancient runes that glimmered faintly beneath torchlight. Everything about Blackvale felt old and not merely aged. Ancient, if that was the right word. Though she’d seen a few parts of the castle, it never felt like enough, like there was even more left undiscovered.
She had only just reached the turn near the eastern corridor when the sound of approaching footsteps reached her. The servants around her shifted subtly, and Lucrezia looked up to find a familiar figure coming toward them.
Brown eyes. Blonde hair.
The commander.
Her pulse stumbled.
The last time she had seen him, it had not truly been him. It had been something else—something wearing his face, carrying his voice and bearing his likeness so perfectly that even now, the memory was enough to make her stomach tighten.
And yet, seeing the real man standing before her did little to convince the instinctive fear in her body that there was a difference.
He inclined his head. "My lady."
Lucrezia swallowed, the greeting catching somewhere between her throat and her lips. "My lord."
The commander stopped a few steps away. Up close, the resemblance was even more unsettling—the same broad shoulders, the same blonde hair, the same familiar features. Only his eyes were different. Warm brown, rather than the cold black that had stared back at her from the creature in the woods.
She knew he was real.
Her body simply hadn’t learned to believe it yet.
A faint tremor passed through her fingers which he noticed.
His expression changed almost imperceptibly, his brows drawing together as he studied her. "Are you unwell, my lady?"
Lucrezia immediately shook her head. "No. I am fine." It came out too quickly.
He seemed unconvinced, but he did not challenge her. Instead, he glanced toward the servants surrounding her before returning his attention to her. "I heard you had recovered enough to walk," he noted and she gave a nod.
"I suppose I have."
"That is good to hear,"
There was nothing particularly cold about the words, yet they lacked the contempt she had grown accustomed to hearing from others. He was the only one bearing the warmth all lacked.
Lucrezia relaxed by the smallest degree. She looked at him again, unable to stop herself from remembering the creature in the woods.
For a moment, the corridor seemed to disappear to the thing wearing his face, and her stomach twisted.
The commander noticed the change immediately. His expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed to choose his next words carefully.
"I imagine seeing me again is not entirely easy."
Lucrezia’s eyes lifted to his.
There was no accusation in his voice. Only an understanding that somehow made her feel more embarrassed.
"I—" She faltered.
His gaze dropped briefly to her trembling fingers before returning to her face. "You needn’t explain," he said quietly. "I understand."
Lucrezia looked away, her fingers curling tighter into the fabric of her gown. It was only then that she realized his presence had stirred the memory again.
It had been easier to push the incident aside when he was nowhere near her, but standing up close, Lucrezia couldn’t suppress the chill that swept through her at the memory of what had happened that day.
A silence passed between them, heavier than the one before. The commander was the first to break it.
"My sincere apologies," he said at the end, the unexpected words catching her off guard. His gaze lingered on her for a moment before shifting away. "You should never have been placed in a position to encounter something like that."
There was something almost regretful in the way he said it, and Lucrezia found herself shaking her head.
"You have nothing to apologize for," she murmured.
He said nothing.
For a moment, she thought the conversation would end there. Perhaps it should have. Yet the question that had been lingering in the back of her mind refused to disappear.
Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her gown.
"Was it really..." She stopped, struggling to find the courage to finish.
His attention returned to her.
"The creature," She finally whispered. "Was it truly wearing your face?"
His expression hardened slightly. "No, my lady." The answer came without hesitation. "It wore my likeness. That is not the same as being me."
Something inside her loosened.
She had known that already, of course. Vaeron explained enough of what happened, but hearing it from the man himself made the distinction feel strangely more real.