You want to die? Then I'll help you fulfill your wish."
The voice was low, laced with danger, and slithered through the air like a venomous whisper. It rang in her ears, so close, yet eerily disembodied.
Leila's breath caught as she whipped her head around, her eyes scanning the dense shadows surrounding her. No one. Not even a rustle of leaves in response."Hello?" she croaked, her voice barely audible. "Is there anyone there?"
A chill ran down her spine. The comforting warmth of her bed was gone. Instead, the twisted branches of the forest towered above her once more, clawing at the pale sky. But this time… it felt different. Darker. The trees groaned. The wind carried whispers.
How did she return here?
She remembered falling asleep in the safety of her room... and now this. Was this a dream? No, this was far too vivid, too cold, too real.
Leila, her jaw set with stubborn resolve, pushed further into the dense forest. Each step crunched softly beneath her boots, leaves whispering secrets she couldn't decipher. She scanned the trees, looking for anything, a path, a break in the canopy, a landmark but no matter which direction she turned, she always ended up back at the same moss-covered stone and broken branch.
She paused, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Am I going in circles?" she muttered, running her fingers through her tangled hair in exasperation.
Suddenly, snap.
A twig broke behind her.
Leila spun around, her heart lurching. Her breath hitched as her eyes landed on a figure emerging from the shadows. Her stomach dropped. Him. Of all people, she really didn't want to deal with him right now.
A deep frown etched itself on her face. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, crossing her arms. "Do you know a way out of this place?"
The figure didn't respond.
Instead, he moved graceful, deliberate, haunting. His footsteps were near silent, yet each one rang louder than the last in her ears. He stopped just a breath away, his eyes locked on hers with unreadable intensity.
Lord Valmont. Cold. Commanding. Uninvited.
"How do you want to die?"
The voice was smooth, almost casual but it sliced through the silence like a blade. Leila froze, her breath catching in her throat. Confused and alarmed, she turned sharply. "Excuse me?"
The man facing her didn't blink. "A quick death," he said, tilting his head slightly, "or a slow, painful one?" His lips curled into a smile, chilling and unnatural. It never reached his eyes, which remained cold, void, and piercing.
Leila instinctively took a step back. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound firm.
"I'm only here to help," he said, advancing slowly, each step measured like a predator stalking its prey.
She continued backing away, heart pounding, until her back collided with the rough bark of a tree. Panic spiked in her chest.
"You can't run from me," the man whispered, now standing close. "And you can't take back the wish you made, little girl."
He raised a hand and pressed it against the tree beside her head, trapping her in place. His presence was suffocating, dark, dominant, and impossibly close.
Leila swallowed hard. Her instincts screamed at her to fight or flee, but her body refused to move. Her eyes met his, and everything else, fear, thoughts, the world blurred. There was something hypnotic in his gaze... something ancient, powerful, and inescapable.
Suddenly, Lord Valmont's hand shot out and wrapped tightly around Leila's neck, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. Her legs flailed in the air as she gasped for breath, clawing at his arm in desperation.
"I… can't… breathe…" she choked out, her voice barely a whisper.
"How does it feel," he sneered, eyes glowing with a twisted delight, "to have the life drained from your body?" His grip tightened. "To feel the world slip away while no one hears your screams?"
Leila's vision began to blur. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, and the edges of her world darkened. Lord Valmont's laughter echoed around her wild, unhinged, the sound of something no longer human.
"Ahhhh!" Leila screamed as she shot upright in bed, drenched in sweat.
"Leila!" Lady Helen's voice rang out, full of alarm. She rushed to her side, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Are you hurt? Are you in pain?"
Panting, Leila wiped the cold sweat from her brow and rubbed her eyes. Her surroundings slowly came into focus the familiar walls of her room and Lady Helen's worried face. It was just a dream… a nightmare.
She placed a shaky hand on her chest, still trying to calm her racing heart. "It felt so real," she murmured. Lord Valmont's face flashed in her mind again twisted in malice, his eyes inhuman, his aura monstrous.
In that dream, he hadn't looked like a nobleman. He looked like a demon dressed in human skin… horns were the only thing missing.
Her erratic breathing gradually calmed as she turned to Lady Helen and gave a faint shake of her head. "I'm fine… it was just a bad dream," she said softly, trying to sound more composed than she felt.
Lady Helen still looked concerned but offered a small smile. "You poor thing. You must be shaken and hungry. I'll have something prepared for you right away."
Without waiting for a reply, she hurried out, leaving Leila alone in the quiet room.
Leila let out a deep sigh and slumped back against the pillows. Her hand instinctively moved to her throat and froze. There was a dull, stinging sensation. Confused, she rubbed her neck. Why did it hurt?
A sense of unease crept over her. Leila quickly swung her legs over the bed and rushed to the mirror. Her fingers trembled as she inspected her reflection under the soft morning light. No bruises. No red marks. No evidence of the suffocating grip from her dream. But the pain… it had felt so real.
She took a shaky breath. "It's just my mind playing tricks," she muttered to herself. "Just a dream."
Yet Lord Valmont's chilling words echoed in her memory. "You want to die?" Why had he said that? What did it mean?
Pushing away the thought, she decided not to dwell on it any longer. She turned away from the mirror, drawing in another steadying breath. After a quick bath, she dressed in something more formal and stepped out of the room, trying to shake off the lingering chill of that nightmare. But deep down, something still felt… off.
Leila stretched with a quiet groan, her arms reaching above her head as a soft yawn escaped her lips. The warm sunlight poured through the tall windows, casting golden rays across the hallway floor. Another new day. She felt lighter, healthier, her strength had mostly returned. It wouldn't be long before she was fully recovered.
As she wandered leisurely through the corridor, the faint murmur of voices caught her attention. Passing by the study room, she paused, curiosity tugging at her. Through the slightly ajar door, she glimpsed Elise sitting upright at a desk, attentively listening to her etiquette teacher.
Leila blinked in surprise. Was she seeing that correctly? Elise, the same spirited girl who usually ran from lessons as though they were a plague not only present but paying full attention? She stood there, momentarily stunned.
A slow smile curved on Leila's lips, her arms crossing over her chest. 'So she really took my advice to heart,' she mused warmly, pride blooming in her chest.
As if sensing her gaze, Elise looked up. Her eyes lit up instantly, and she beamed at Leila with childlike joy, raising a small hand to wave. Leila chuckled softly and returned the wave, giving her a big thumbs-up.
'She's such a sweetheart when she isn't causing chaos', Leila thought fondly, before stepping away to give the lesson its space. Her heart felt lighter now. Maybe she had made more of a difference than she realized.
As Leila strolled through the hallway, she overheard a hushed conversation between two maids lingering near a doorway, their voices low but laced with excitement.
"Lady Juliana's fiancé is here," one whispered, glancing around as if the walls had ears.
"He looks so terrifying," the other replied, clutching her feather duster tightly. "Poor Lady Juliana… imagine being engaged to such a ruthless, hideous tyrant. It must be unbearable, especially when she's secretly in love with Duke Colin's son."
Leila's steps halted. Juliana's fiancé is here? Her curiosity instantly flared. She had heard whispers of this infamous man but had never caught sight of him herself. Her imagination ran wild, how terrifying could he be?
Quietly, she crept toward the nearest drawing room, where muffled voices floated beyond the polished wooden door. Pressing her ear against it, she tried to make out the conversation inside.
"...Juliana will be here shortly," came Lady Helen's composed, formal tone. "She's still in her room, getting ready."
Leila's eyes narrowed in determination. She knelt slightly and leaned closer, squinting through the keyhole. Nothing. Ugh! The view was frustratingly blocked by a velvet chair.
Just then...
"Miss Leila? What are you doing?"
The loud voice startled her so badly that her hand jerked reflexively. She had been gripping the door handle, and with a faint click, the door creaked open. Leila stumbled forward awkwardly, accidentally barging into the very room she had been secretly eavesdropping on. All heads turned toward her. Her face flushed instantly.
The moment Leila stumbled into the room, an abrupt silence fell over the gathering. Every pair of eyes turned toward her. A deep wave of awkwardness crashed over her, heating her cheeks with embarrassment. Brilliant. Just brilliant, she thought, resisting the urge to shrink into the floor.
"Were you eavesdropping, Miss Leila?" Eliot's voice rang out behind her, sharp and accusing. He stepped into the room with his usual stiff posture, raising a brow at her suspiciously. Leila shot him a tight-lipped smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Oh, curse you a thousand times, you nosy broomstick of a man. She quickly cleared her throat and tried to salvage her dignity.
"Eavesdropping? Of course not," she said with mock offense, straightening her dress. "I was actually... coming in to get something." Even she winced internally at the poor excuse.
Eliot gave her a look, half judgment, half disbelief before walking past her, clearly unconvinced. Leila brushed herself off and turned toward the people seated in the room. Jack sat stiffly, his discomfort practically radiating off him, while Lady Helen looked pale and tense.
And then she saw him.
"What the f*ck!" The expletive burst from her lips before she could stop it. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she locked onto the tall figure seated at the far end of the room.
Her feet scrambled backward in a frantic attempt to retreat, but she tripped, landing squarely on her backside with a thud. "What is he doing here?!" she gasped, eyes still fixed on the intimidating presence before her. Of all people... why him?!
Seated casually on the couch like a king in his domain was none other than Lord Valmont. His long legs were elegantly crossed, one arm draped along the backrest, exuding a lazy dominance. His sharp eyes locked onto Leila, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, amused, as though her blunder had been orchestrated for his entertainment.
"Well, Mr. Williams," he drawled, voice smooth and laced with mockery, "I didn't take you for a man who harbors such a sharp-tongued little shrew under his roof."
Leila felt her stomach drop. Of all people… why him? Again?
Lady Helen rushed to her side, crouching down. "Leila, are you alright?" she asked gently, her voice laced with concern as she helped her to her feet.
Elliot stood nearby, arms crossed with a disapproving frown carved into his face, while Jack's expression had turned grim, his jaw tight, his knuckles pale.
Leila closed her eyes for a second, mentally cursing. Great. Just great. Well done, Leila.
"I apologize for Leila's... behavior," Lady Helen said with a graceful bow, her tone both respectful and regretful. "She hasn't been feeling well these past few days. I believe the strain has affected her state of mind. If you'll excuse us, I'll take her back to rest."
Just as Lady Helen gently grasped Leila's arm to escort her out of the room, a voice smooth as silk, yet laced with an unmistakable edge, echoed from behind them.
"Why don't you let her stay?" Lord Valmont's words rolled off his tongue like a taunt. "She seems... particularly interested in my presence."
The air in the room tensed, as though pulled taut by invisible threads. Leila froze mid-step, her head snapping back toward him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
What did he just say?