{Whatever Happens In This Room Is Real}
"Not everyone has the power of choice. To some people it's more like a luxury that can never be acquired," Anastasia said quietly from the comfort of the Emperor's grand bed.
"Does that mean you're being threatened?" Azriel asked, a dark edge to his voice as he prowled the room.
"I never said that, Your Grace... I don't seem to belong anywhere. I'm just useless to my family," she continued, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"From what I heard, you are the golden child of Demetrius," he countered, trying to piece together the girl and the ghost story.
"All of that is just for show. No one knows what happens behind the closed doors... It's all fake. They keep a deep, dark secret, hidden inside their walls... They're monsters."
"What secret are they keeping?" Azriel demanded, his curiosity a hungry thing.
"I can't... It's family stuff," she deflected.
"I will protect you if you're in any danger," he vowed, the dark promise of the soul bond humming beneath his words.
"Your members of council are waiting for you, Your Grace. Don't worry about me," she said, effectively dismissing him.
Azriel knew he couldn't push further. He left for the court. Anastasia sat on the bed, scared of her own vulnerability.
If she told the Emperor everything, he would kill her entire family, including Hannah.
She wondered if her proximity to him was the reason her mind was unraveling.
Azriel arrived at the court, his usual cold and ruthless demeanor firmly in place. "What's the reason for this urgent meeting?"
"Two pregnant citizens were kidnapped three days ago, but their bodies were found in the market this morning," Henry, the elder of the court, said gravely.
"There was a message written in their blood."
"The message said: 'You know it's me, don't be a coward. I'll wait for you'," Grace finished.
Azriel broke the wine glass in his hands, shards falling to the floor. "He keeps doing this to get my attention."
"I suggest we should retaliate," Vivian said.
"He expects us to strike... It must be a trap," Charles countered. Azriel tried his best to stay calm, knowing this was Andrew's plan—to drive him by rage.
"I'll have to review this problem personally," Azriel stated, leaving the room, the scent of the intoxicating girl calling him back.
He returned to his room, but Anastasia wasn't there. He searched everywhere, growing frantic.
"Your Majesty, she went to her room," a maid finally informed him.
Azriel left, walking like a man possessed. Luna tried to approach him, but he ignored her completely, bursting into Anastasia's room. Hannah was startled to death.
"Where is she?" Azriel demanded.
"On the bed," Hannah replied.
He went to the bed, saw the covers moving, and ripped them back to find Anastasia trembling, crying hard. Azriel's anger melted.
"Why did you leave?" he asked, his voice softening.
"Guinevere, look at me," Azriel said, but she wouldn't. He picked her up in his arms.
"Don't carry me this way outside," Anastasia whispered, embarrassed.
"If you're embarrassed, then bury your head on my shoulder," Azriel said. She did as she was told, and he carried her back to his room.
He gently placed her on the bed. "Why did you leave? Didn't I tell you, you need to be strong before returning to your room? Are you sad because I asked personal questions?"
Anastasia still couldn't speak. Azriel placed his hand on her chin, gently making her look him in the eyes.
"Say something, you're scaring me." Anastasia saw a flash of fear or concern in his eyes.
"I... I think there's something wrong with me. My body... I think it belongs to someone else. When you left, it felt like I was about to explode. I'm terrified... I think I'm defective."
"You're not, it's just the illness making you feel this way," Azriel lied smoothly.
"What if I don't get better? What if I remain this way?" Anastasia asked.
"I'll make sure you get treated by the strongest wizards I know. You'll be fine," Azriel promised, the vow a deep, dark thing.
"Why are you helping me? Why are you being nice to me?" Anastasia asked.
Azriel paused. "Because Adeline would have my head if something happens to you."
"She's not here, Your Grace, there's no need to pretend," Anastasia pointed out.
Azriel's voice hitched. "But regardless, I want to keep you safe and sound."
Anastasia gave a bitter laugh. "You'll abandon that idea the moment you get tired."
Azriel fell silent. "Guinevere... I don't know what made you hate someone's help. Yes, when this blows down, things may return to the way it was, but always know that whatever happens in this room is real, and I will protect you from the shadows."
"Promise me that you'll never ignore me fully..." Anastasia whispered.
"I promise," Azriel cupped her cheeks.
"How was your meeting?" Anastasia asked, changing the subject.
"Fine," Azriel said simply.
Anastasia placed her hands on his face. "Andrew troubles you?" Azriel froze.
"How did you know?"
"He wants you to break... He has joined forces with higher power to bring you down. What did you do to him to make him hate you this much?" Anastasia asked.
"He killed my friend; I killed his brother."
Anastasia hugged him fiercely.
"If you want to get back at him, then wait for eight days. Play the game of mystery; let him be the one breaking bit by bit. Every silence, every wait would make him lose his mind," she advised, the manipulative darkness within her shining through.
"You want me to watch my people die?" Azriel asked.
"Yes, I never said it would be easy. All you have to do is trust me."
Azriel sighed in exhaustion. "Very well, I trust you."
"Meet me on the eighth day and I'll tell you what's next," Anastasia said.
Azriel nodded once. "I need to sleep." She fell asleep in his arms, and he placed her head on a pillow.
Azriel watched her sleep peacefully. "I'll protect you, my dear wife," Azriel murmured, the truth a secret he guarded fiercely.
Anastasia stood up abruptly from the bed, startling Azriel.
"What is the problem?" Azriel asked.
"I want to pee," Anastasia simply said as she stood to her feet. The room spun, and she swayed. Azriel was by her side instantly.
"Don't move."
"I need to use the bathroom," Anastasia said.
"I'll take you there." He carried her to the bathroom, Anastasia protested but he didn't pay much mind to her.
"Call me when you're done."
Anastasia nodded. She finished her business. "Your Grace," she called gently. Azriel entered and carried her back to the bed.
"How are you feeling?" Azriel asked.
Anastasia took a deep breath, the attention still overwhelming. "I'm fine."
Azriel raised his hand to check her temperature, but she flinched.
"I just want to check if your fever is back... May I?" Anastasia nodded. He touched her forehead.
"Hmm... Seems to be fine, but you still have to take your medicine," Azriel said.
He gave her the medicine and fed her before she fell asleep, a silent pact made between a dark Emperor and his fated, unknowing bride.