Nyx was currently enjoying life to the fullest.
The very moment he stepped through the mansion's entrance, a group of maids—yes, actual MAIDS, the kind he'd only seen in stories—rushed toward him. Without hesitation, they guided him deeper inside, straight to the bath, attending to his every need before he could even voice them, sometimes before he even realized he had them.
From chains to cushions. From rot to roses. The shift was so sharp it almost felt like another cruel joke of the trial. Luxury didn't erase the stench of the pens—it only painted over it with perfume.
One fed him sweet, unfamiliar fruit, its juices bright against his tongue. Another kneaded the tension out of his shoulders and spine with a skill that bordered on sorcery. A third—well, that was something else entirely, and he hadn't even known he carried that kind of pent-up pressure until she found and tried to release it.
Part of him wanted to melt into it. Another part whispered that nothing this sweet came without poison. He'd learned that lesson too many times to forget it now.
It was unlike anything he had ever experienced in this cruel, chaotic world. He felt like he was floating on cloud nine, a state he never wanted to end. Yet even in the midst of this bliss, curiosity gnawed at him. He couldn't stop himself from voicing the question that lingered in his mind.
"Why are you doing this?"
The maid attending to his most intimate needs paused briefly, lifting her head, lips glistening as she freed her mouth to answer.
"Lady Caelia told us to serve you with all our heart, Young Master. To treat you as we would treat one of her own family."
Nyx blinked, staring into her wide eyes.
"And that includes… this?"
Her cheeks flushed.
"That—"
she swallowed,
"—is extra. Only for you, Young Master."
His confusion deepened. He vividly recalled Caelia instructing the old man, Cail, to prepare water, food, and rooms for them. But when had she given the maids these kinds of instructions? And more importantly—why? What were her intentions behind all this?
Who treats a slave like this? Like royalty, almost. The thought baffled him no matter how many times he turned it over in his head. The unanswered questions made his chest tighten with unease.
And yet, he refused to let it spoil this heavenly moment. Not even his so-called family back on Earth had ever treated him half as well as he had been treated here in just the last hour.
That realization stung. It forced him to confront how truly miserable his life had been on Earth, how disgusted they must have been with him.
He wanted to dwell on those bitter thoughts a little longer, but his body betrayed him. The pent-up tension, the stiff muscles, the years without a real bath—they all melted away, drowning him in bliss.
When he finally returned to his senses, nearly two hours had slipped by. It was time to leave this paradise.
The maids dried him, dressed him in a fresh set of dark clothes, and led him through the mansion's halls. His legs still felt loose and unsteady, as if his bones had been replaced with something softer.
Walking the corridors, Nyx couldn't help but stare. The interior of the mansion was almost overwhelming—a blend of power and taste. Massive wooden beams stretched toward high ceilings; door after massive door lined the corridors like silent sentinels.
Dark wood and black marble met in clean, bold lines, softened by gold filigree curling along the walls. Heavy banners hung between sconces where steady flames burned without smoke. A faint scent of polished wood and paper clung to the air.
It's like walking through the spine of something ancient, he thought. And I'm the anomaly here.
A few servants crossed their path, moving with hushed efficiency. Some glanced at him, but most dropped their eyes immediately, their respect—or fear—almost tangible. Nyx had no idea which it was meant to be.
On Earth, I wasn't even worth a second glance. Here, I'm… He didn't finish the thought. He wasn't sure what he was here yet.
After a few minutes, they reached a massive set of double doors. One of the maids stepped forward and knocked.
"Come in."
The maids opened the doors, ushering him into the study.
Caelia sat behind a broad wooden desk, the same black-and-gold attire from the auction still wrapped around her frame. Papers were spread neatly before her, her gloved fingers turning a page with deliberate care.
The study itself mirrored the rest of the mansion's aesthetic—dark wood, high shelves filled with books and ledgers, the faint glimmer of gold leaf on the spines. A single tall window let moonlight spill across the floor.
Several heartbeats passed before Caelia looked up.
For a few moments, she didn't.
Then her golden eyes lifted to him.
"Did you enjoy your welcome?"
Nyx let a faint smile tug at his lips.
"I did. More than anything. Not even my family treated me like this."
One of her brows lifted. Then she chuckled softly, an almost musical sound. "There's no need to exaggerate."
She clearly didn't believe him.
"No, I'm serious,"
His voice carried none of the humor she expected.
"If you don't believe me, fine—but I'm really grateful."
Her expression shifted at that. For a moment, something softer passed over her face.
"Then I suppose you didn't have it easy."
Nyx shrugged lightly, a gentle smile tugging his mouth.
"You could say that."
He tilted his head, meeting her crimson-gold gaze.
"So what's the catch? You don't treat someone like royalty without a reason. You even included… special treatment."
At that, the maid from earlier coughed, her cheeks tinged pink.
Caelia's gaze snapped to her. Cold. Sharp. A chill pressure rolled into the room like unseen frost.
"What kind of special treatment is he talking about?"
Her voice was quiet. It was also terrifying.
The maid visibly trembled.
"W-Well, we did what you told us, my lady—bathed him, fed him, attended his needs. His body was tense, so we massaged him. That's all."
A blatant lie. Nyx wasn't about to correct her. He had the distinct sense that if the truth came out, neither of them would leave this room alive.
Caelia's gaze lingered on the maid for a long, suffocating moment. She searched for cracks in the girl's story. The maid held firm.
Finally, Caelia leaned back, letting the moment pass. But the cold in her eyes didn't fully fade. She clearly suspected more, but she didn't press further.
Her attention shifted back to Nyx.
"You seem calm, given the day you've had. Auction block in the morning, royal treatment in the evening."
Nyx smirked faintly.
"Panic doesn't help. Watching does."
"Watching?"
"People always show what they want. You just have to know where to look."
He tilted his head.
"And you? What do you want?"
Her lips curved the faintest bit—not a smile, not quite.
"Would you believe me if I said curiosity?"
"No."
That earned a soft laugh.
"Good. Then maybe you'll live long enough to see the real answer."
He couldn't help the twitch of his own mouth.
"You're very confident in yourself."
"Confidence is just another word for preparation,"
she replied smoothly, before setting the paper down. Her gaze sharpened.
"And speaking of preparation—"
She turned her eyes to the door they'd entered through.
"You can come in now."
Nyx blinked, confused. Someone else?
The door opened. Soft footsteps crossed the threshold.
A face appeared—one he'd thought he'd never see again.
For a heartbeat, the study, the golden glow of candles, even Caelia herself—everything blurred to the edges. All he saw was her. The uneven-cropped hair. The same eyes that had met his in the dark, when both their lives had been measured in chains and numbers. The girl who'd whispered to him to eat, even if the food hated him. The only person who had spoken to him like he wasn't just merchandise.
His breath caught. The world narrowed to that single figure, framed in the moonlight from the tall window.
"…Serra?"
***
Author's Note:
Hey readers, you might notice a shift in tone here. That's intentional. Life isn't always one shade, it can feel like a slice-of-life moment one day and turn cruel and dark the next. This lighter interlude won't last long, so please bear with it. The story will return to a darker atmosphere soon.