Content Warning: This chapter contains themes of sexual violence/assault which may be disturbing to some readers. Please read with caution.
***
Harmonia Calendar 715, Thal 23 - Ashspire Estate, Elandor
Afternoon - Reading Room
Favian led me down the hall toward a small reading room. He opened the door for me with practiced elegance.
Click.
The sound of the door was soft as he closed it.
He pointed to the couch. His voice was gentle but firm.
"Sit. You look a little flushed."
I sat, not because I wanted to, but because his voice carried something that left no room for refusal. He sat down beside me, not quite touching, but close enough.
I raised the cup again, more for something to do with my hands than thirst. I took another sip. The world tilted, subtly at first. My thoughts slowed.
His hand touched my cheek, warm, gentle. I should have felt comfort in it. Instead, my stomach twisted.
"Are you unwell?"
His touch felt wrong, my voice stammered.
"No, Lord Favian…just a little light-headed."
He leaned in, and suddenly his hand wasn't on my cheek anymore but around my wrist. His grip tightened. Too tight. The smile remained on his face, but it had shifted. No longer charming, no longer kind.
"Relax. You are safe with me."
The words should have calmed me. They didn't. They pressed me down like a weight. My chest tightened. The room bent more, and the lights turned hazy.
I tried to pull my hand back, but his grip grew stronger. My pulse raced. My breath came quick.
His other hand gently grabbed my waist. Then it went down, slowly, to the hem of my dress. He lifted it and slid his hand under.
Something snapped inside me. My mind slowed down.
His fingers climbed up my legs, his skin touching my skin. They reached my thighs, his hand grabbed them, soft then firmer.
I panicked, my voice came out weak and small.
"Stop."
His hand stopped for a moment, red eyes looking into mine. He leaned, whispering in my ear.
"Relax. You will like it."
I haven't even registered his words before his hand went further up, fingers sliding into my underwear.
The world tilted again.
My body trembled. I wanted to move. To push him. But fear and shock paralysed me.
His fingers explored every inch of me. They touched where they shouldn't.
My mind went blank. I could see, I could hear, even smell, but I felt like I wasn't in my body anymore.
I was just watching.
I didn't move. I didn't resist. I just wanted it to be over. To end.
He felt my resistance vanish and let my wrist fall. His now free hand reached for my upper dress, he pulled it down, and slid his fingers in my bosom.
I hated it. I hated how I was paralysed by fear, how I couldn't resist, how I couldn't move, how I could only watch as he used my body as he wanted.
His fingers stopped, and he leaned closer. He smiled, satisfied.
"I know you waited for this. You should be thankful."
His words stirred something inside me. I snapped.
'Waited for this? Thankful?'
Fear lessened, replaced by disgust and anger.
I felt my arms again, and the numbness vanished. I gave it my all and pushed him, but he didn't move. I pushed harder and shouted.
"Help!"
The shout wasn't loud, but it was enough.
His hands stopped.
I heard footsteps.
The door opened.
Fresh air came in.
The room tilted. My eyelids felt heavy, but I saw a last glimpse of him.
The Ashspire crest on his cloak as he slipped through the service door.
Guards rushed to me, their hands steadied me. I felt disgusted by their touch.
The surroundings grew fainter, my memories more jumbled.
I used the last of my strength to speak.
"It was... Ashspire."
And everything turned dark.
***
Late Afternoon - Favian's Room
The door slammed shut behind me, the sound echoing loudly, but I didn't care. My palms pressed against the wood, breath harsh until it calmed.
Calm came first.
Then anger.
It clawed its way back up my chest. My hands pressed harder, nails biting into wood.
'Why did she shout? I gave her attention. She should have been grateful.'
I drew a sharp breath, hands dragging down the door before I forced them free. I turned on unsteady steps toward the desk. A drink. I needed something to drown the fire in my chest.
I reached for the bottle on my desk then a cup, wine spilled dark into the glass. One sip. Then another.
It helped, but it didn't silence the sound in my head.
Her cry.
Their whispers.
I could almost hear them now.
"She screamed."
"Favian Ashspire did this."
"Not an heir. A disgrace."
I closed my eyes and faces formed.
Sneers, sidelong glances, disdain behind courtly smiles.
My jaw clenched. My eyes opened.
I lifted my gaze to the mirror.
My reflection.
The smile slid back on, soft, charming, gentle. The one I'd trained since childhood.
The anger left, and clarity took its place.
I spoke to the man in the mirror.
"She will talk. Her father will demand justice. He will want a head."
I could see them already. Baron Loubane's scowl, nobles whispering in corners, voices dripping with disdain, and father's cold eyes.
I clenched the cup. There had to be a way out. There always was.
I lifted my gaze to the man in the mirror again. I spoke, options I'd used before, I knew could work.
"Deny."
His eyes narrowed, voice firm.
"Too many eyes."
I tried again, less certain.
"Silencing."
He lifted a hand in dismissal.
"Not with a baron's daughter."
I leaned closer, and my voice rose with confidence.
"A bribe."
His head shook, a cold smile on his lips.
"Not with his daughter as the victim."
I swallowed, voice falling to a murmur.
"A scapegoat?"
The reflection stilled.
Silence.
I met his eyes, and he met mine.
We spoke as one.
"Perfect."
My thoughts sharpened. I planned the next move.
"A servant?"
His reply was immediate, voice flat.
"Too low."
I pressed further.
"A knight?"
He shook his head.
"Too loyal."
Silence stretched. Then one name rose above the rest. We spoke it together.
"Adonis."
I saw him in my mind.
Standing too straight, smiling too softly, earning glances that should have been mine. I could already hear the whispers, see the nods twisting into judgment.
"He was seen with her."
The man in the mirror added the second blade.
"He spoke with her."
I finished, voice low, deliberate.
"He forgot his place. We'll show him his place."
I set the cup down with a quiet click, my hand steady now.
I closed my eyes, and the words came soft, almost pleased.
"Father. You will help me."
***
Late Afternoon - The Ballroom
The hall had thinned after the shouting. Voices grew quieter, guards whispered at the doors, and the safe jokes were put away.
I sent Theodora and Adonis back to the estate with a guard. They argued, but in the end, they followed my order.
I stayed. Someone had to. But no one knew the truth.
'The guests said they heard a scream.'
'The servants said they saw a noble daughter unconscious.'
I pressed for answers, cornering two of the Loubane knights near the door. Their armor bore the Loubane's crest, steel polished bright for show.
I demanded, voice firm.
"What happened?"
They bowed and gave me nothing.
"We're handling it, my Lord."
Their silence said enough. They knew something, and they weren't sharing it.
There was nothing to gain anymore. They wouldn't speak. My thoughts drifted to another suspicious person.
Favian.
He had vanished earlier. Too quick for a man who thrived on attention.
I walked toward the door with that thought in mind, Ashspire guards at my side. The night air cut colder once I left the hall, boots echoing over the stone path back to the estate.
We passed the gate and entered the main building, where the guards peeled away. My steps quickened through the halls. I cut straight into the north passage, toward Favian's room. A door opened ahead.
There he was.
He stepped out of his doorway. His face was calm. Too calm, but his eyes were sharp.
My chest tightened. Instinct screamed.
I kept my steps silent and followed, each footfall careful on the stone.
His pace was steady as he walked straight to Father's study.
I stopped at the corner, close enough to see, far enough not to be seen.
The door opened. He went inside.
And the latch clicked shut.
Click.
***
Evening - Anton's Study
The steward left the guest lists stacked on the desk. I counted them again.
A knock.
Favian entered a moment later, posture straight, small bow.
"Father."
I put the guest lists down and glanced up.
"Speak."
He began, his tone smooth and polished as always.
"There was a small incident at the party. It was a misunderstanding. Lady Matilda felt unwell. I tried to comfort her. She shouted. The guards made a fuss. The guests scattered."
My gaze didn't leave him. My tone hardened.
"What kind of misunderstanding?"
He drew a careful breath, eyes steady on mine.
"The kind that invites action. The baron will demand answers."
My patience thinned. My fingers curled on the armrest, voice rising.
"What answers?"
He slipped past the question.
"I spoke with her earlier. So did Adonis. People saw that. If the baron demands a name, we offer his."
I blinked once, slowly, to believe I'd heard correctly. My jaw tightened before I spoke.
"You bring me rumors, dodge my questions, and dare suggest I throw my own family to the wolves?"
His brow lifted, tone confused.
"Family? He isn't even your son?"
Silence settled between us.
I closed my eyes for a moment, thumb rubbing the bridge of my nose. The ache in my head grew.
'This child will be my ruin. He creates problems, speaks in circles, and suggests betrayal. I warned him. I covered for him. Again and again.'
'This wasn't the first time. A maid was dismissed in tears. A servant's daughter had gone before dawn. Each time, I paid the price so he could keep his place.'
'And now he dares to go after a baron's daughter… and even suggests we throw Adonis in his place. Not this time. I gave him enough chances. Now he will take responsibility for it.'
My eyes opened. I leaned back in the chair, the leather creaking under me. My voice cut sharply, final.
"You will go to the baron. Tonight. You will apologize for whatever 'misunderstanding' happened. You will make it vanish."
His voice stayed soft, but the defiance in it was plain.
"That will not be enough."
I tapped the desk once, flat and final, before turning back to the parchments.
"It will be enough."
A knock came before he could answer.
"Enter."
The door opened. A servant stepped inside, bowing low, two sealed letters in his hands.
"From Baron Loubane. And from the tribunal hall."