The next morning, Anastasia was busy learning about the intricate history of the Archlys family.
After class, a prickle of unease snaked down her spine as she watched a familiar figure vanish into a chamber.
"Something feels unsettling," Anastasia confessed to Hannah, a tremor in her voice she couldn't hide.
"I have this unexplainable restlessness."
"Maybe you're overreacting," Hannah dismissed.
"Maybe," Anastasia murmured, though the feeling lingered, a dark premonition.
Later that peaceful afternoon, her rest was broken by Charles.
"I have a surprise for you," he said with a smug smile.
"What could that be?" Anastasia asked trying to stay awake. "
You'll see" Charles said with a wink. "Since when did you become so mysterious?" Anastasia asked as she crossed her hands with a smile.
Intrigued, she followed him, her thoughts a whirlwind of anticipation and dread.
The trail led her into an unfamiliar, opulent room where the Emperor sat in a throne-like chair, not alone. He had company
"My beloved sister... I've missed you," James said, a venomous sweetness coating his words.
Anastasia's pulse quickened violently; she subconsciously stepped back.
"What's the matter? Aren't you going to hug your brother?" James pressed, his eyes narrowing.
Azriel felt the sudden, suffocating tension within his own chest, a brutal side effect of their bond.
"James," Anastasia managed, her voice tight. James enveloped her in a hug, causing her body to tense like a trapped animal.
"What are these lines?" James asked, his finger trailing the faintly blinking marks on her arm with false curiosity.
"Why are you here?" she asked, desperate to break free.
"Don't you remember? I worked hard to become a royal knight, and my efforts paid off. Which means I get to see you everyday," James smiled, a predator's grin.
Anastasia forced a smile, the effort painful.
"Come on Guinevere, I know we fought before you left but I want us to put that behind us" James said with fake sadness.
"I can... I can... never be mad at you," she lied.
"How about I walk you back to your room, so we could catch up?" James suggested, stepping closer.
"Actually, I have unfinished business with Guinevere," Charles intervened smoothly. James's smile hardened, a mere slash across his face.
"I'll see you later then," he said, leaving the room.
The moment he was gone, Anastasia collapsed, caught just in time by Luke. She began hyperventilating, the panic a tangible force.
"I need fresh air," she whispered, shaking.
"Are you alright?" Luke asked.
"Yes," she lied again.
"Your marks suggest otherwise," Charles noted, pointing to the glowing lines throbbing with her distress.
Azriel balled his hands into fists. He felt the raw fear inside him, knew her lie was just a shield.
"You can tell us if there's something wrong," Charles urged.
"Nothing is wrong... I..." Anastasia clutched her chest, the pain echoing in Azriel's own.
"Guinevere. Come here," Azriel commanded, his voice dark and sure. She stumbled to him, and he pulled her into a fierce hug.
"Just relax... There's nothing to be scared of. I said I will protect you and I will never go back on my word."
Anastasia trembled violently in his arms, a small bird trapped against his formidable chest. He stroked her hair gently, a possessive gesture meant only for her.
Slowly, her frantic breathing eased, the dark emotions fading to a dull throb.
"Are you feeling better now?" Azriel asked.
"Yes," Anastasia said, but the marks still pulsed a cautionary tale.
Azriel sighed in exhaustion, the plan to use her brother for comfort clearly a catastrophic failure.
Anastasia stayed in his arms for a long time, eventually falling asleep, a small weight of trust against him.
"Your Majesty, you have a meeting with the duchess," Daniel announced.
"I'll be with her shortly," Azriel replied, inhaling the scent of Anastasia's hair, finding it bizarrely relaxing.
"What about the girl?" Luke asked.
"I like her this way," Azriel stated, his tone brooking no argument. "She looks like a doll."
Azriel entered the study room to meet Duchess Harriet, Anastasia still a sleeping weight in his arms. The Duchess observed him, her gaze sharp.
"What is this? Another one of your toys?"
Azriel didn't grace that with a reply.
"Stop this madness, Azriel. Who are you carrying?" she demanded flatly.
"My wife," Azriel calmly replied, leaning in to inhale Anastasia's scent again, a small smile touching his lips.
The Duchess nearly dropped her teacup. "What?" she managed.
"The lines on her body are due to the fact that we've marked each other," Azriel continued, leaning back in his chair.
Duchess Harriet dropped the cup with trembling hands. "Marked? That's just a legend. A mere myth."
"The truth stares you in the face, Duchess. This is my fated wife," Azriel calmly replied.
"If that's true then why don't you have the mark?" she challenged.
Azriel stretched his hands, revealing the same intricate, glowing script.
"I was able to conceal mine, but it seems my wife cannot," he explained.
"Why?.... How?"
"I don't know how a demon and a human can share a bound, but I know I will protect this mortal with my life," he vowed, his eyes shifting to an inhuman, darkened shade.
"Why don't you call off the games with the other girls?" the Duchess asked.
"Honestly, she doesn't know we're married yet," Azriel confessed.
"Excuse me?"
"It all happened suddenly. But the marked..... meaning she's mine and I'm hers. She doesn't know the full truth yet... I don't want her to get hurt because of this." He paused, his voice lowering, revealing a raw vulnerability.
"The mark proves that she's yours already"
"She mustn't know. The wizard told her I saved her with my powers that's why the marks are visible.... I know it's risky. Just weeks ago someone threatened her life.... I don't understand why but I'm terrified of losing her so badly... I just want to protect her" he said, his voice laced with uncharacteristic vulnerability the duchess has never seen before.
The Duchess watched her nephew, seeing past the Emperor to the desperate man beneath. "Azriel, she's lucky to have you by her side."
"You don't understand. I worry that if I lose her I will lose myself completely. I have enemies who would use her to get to me, and I can't risk it." He said in desperation.
"I know you will protect her son.... I know that no matter what happens she has you and that is more than enough" The duchess said.
"I never knew this would happen... I thought I would find a random girl as my wife but I never imagined this... Finding the person I was destined to love... it's bizarre."
"How does it feel?" the Duchess asked, gesturing to the marks.
"We are connected. I can feel her every emotion and she could feel mine," Azriel sighed. "Hours ago, a wave of stark terror hit me. Something is scaring her."
"Or perhaps someone," the Duchess replied, a knowing look in her eyes.
"Now that you mention it, the moment she saw her brother, she tensed. I felt the pain in my chest."
"Perhaps there are things from her past she's running from that only you could prevent," the Duchess suggested.
"But she won't tell me what the problem is... it's frustrating."
"An injured puppy never trusts its owner completely. Give her time, Azriel. She'll come around."
"And if she doesn't?"
"Then eliminate whatever or whosoever makes her uncomfortable," the Duchess replied, her tone cold and decisive.
"Thank you, aunty, I find peace talking to you" Azriel said.
"Take care of my daughter-in-law for me. I'd like to meet her on better terms."
Some hours later, Anastasia woke in the Emperor's arms. "You're awake," Azriel said, looking down at her.
"Your grace... I'm so sorry," Anastasia said, trying to scramble up, but Azriel pulled her back down.
"Don't move. You woke me from my nap, so sit," he commanded.
"Your grace, I can't sit on your legs, we are in the throne room. What if my brother sees us?"
"Why are you scared of your brother?" Azriel asked, a demand disguised as a question. Anastasia froze.
As expected, she hesitated, the truth hanging unspoken between them.
"You don't need to tell me, but don't lie to me," Azriel said, his voice laced with possessiveness.
"I will keep you safe regardless."
With a sigh of surrender,
Anastasia placed her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart—a rhythm that strangely matched her own.
"I don't know why, but I feel safe in your arms," she whispered, her words a confession of trust in a world built on shadow and secrets.