Chapter 13

The morning sun dripped honey onto the castle gardens, casting the vibrant blooms in an ethereal glow. Aurelia sat on a white swing, its chains groaning softly as she swayed listlessly. Sunflowers, like golden suns themselves, reached for the sky, while lilies, with their pristine white petals, seemed to whisper secrets on the breeze. Daffodils, trumpets of joy, bobbed their heads in a cheerful dance, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within Aurelia. Lilacs, with their intoxicating fragrance, offered a brief respite from the gnawing anxiety that had become her constant companion. Hyacinths, with their delicate purple bells, seemed to echo the silent plea in her heart – escape.

Escape. It seemed like a distant dream, a fantasy whispered on the wind.

A shiver danced down her spine as the echo of a bloodcurdling scream resurfaced in her memory. The image of the crimson trail snaking up the grand staircase, a stark reminder of the castle's dark secrets, was a memory that refused to be buried. The chilling words of the elusive butler, his voice a low growl, "Forget all you heard and saw tonight," echoed in her head. But forgetting wasn't an option. The crimson stain remained a grotesque tattoo on her mind, a constant reminder of the darkness that festered within these ancient walls.

Suddenly, the gentle sway of the swing was shattered. A deep, sardonic voice pierced the peaceful tranquility of the garden, sending a jolt of terror through her.

"Enjoying the view, sweetness?"

Aurelia whirled around, a startled yelp escaping her lips. Before she could react, the world tilted on its axis. The swing lurched violently, throwing her off balance. With a surprised cry, she tumbled into a soft bed of soil. Dust and disarray replaced the serene picture of moments ago.

She glared up from the ground, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. There he stood, the king, a cruel caricature of a man bathed in black leather. His tall frame cast a long, oppressive shadow over her.

He didn't reach down a hand to help her, as a gentleman might.... a gentleman...Instead, he simply watched, his amusement morphing into a subtle smile that sent shivers down her spine.

Aurelia, fueled by a mixture of anger and defiance, slowly pushed herself to her feet. Dusting the soil off her dress, she stood before him, her back ramrod straight, her chin held high. Though fear threatened to consume her, she refused to show weakness before this...monster.

"Your Majesty," she acknowledged stiffly, her voice a mere whisper.

"Something troubles you, sweetness," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Is it the prospect of a little company? Perhaps you've missed my presence during this… absence of mine."

Sweetness?

Aurelia's eyes narrowed to slits, her jaw clenching tightly. The nerve of him! Missed him? She scoffed internally. The only thing she missed was the opportunity to finish what she started – the chance to avenge her parents' deaths. Of course, she wouldn't dare utter such treasonous thoughts aloud.

"Perhaps, Your Majesty," she finally replied, her voice laced with icy sarcasm, "I yearn for something more… permanent than a week-long absence."

He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. She couldn't tell if it was genuine amusement or a chilling reminder of his power.

"Such devotion," he mused, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity.

Samael chuckled, a dark, humorless sound that echoed in the stillness of the garden. " I was busy, my dear Aurelia? One could say swamped," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. "The entire court is abuzz with rumors about Lord Arnold's demise. Everyone seems eager to find the culprit...a scapegoat behind his… untimely departure."

His words hung heavy in the air, a veiled accusation that sent a flicker of guilt flickering across Aurelia's face. A flicker he didn't miss. A cruel smile played on his lips, a stark contrast to the chilling darkness in his eyes.

"You seem troubled, Aurelia," he continued, his voice dropping to a low, predatory purr. "Perhaps you're contemplating your own fate? Wondering what justice awaits a murderer?"

Aurelia swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "M-My fate, Your Majesty?" she stammered, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

A cruel smile played on the his lips. "A murderer, Aurelia," he drawled, his voice devoid of any warmth, "doesn't deserve a quick death. No, that would be too merciful. A traitor, a viper who strikes at the heart of the kingdom, deserves a slow, agonizing demise. A public spectacle, a reminder to all who dare to defy my rule." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a chilling rasp. "Perhaps a taste of the rack, the slow drip of molten lead, or even a slow burning at the stake. The possibilities are endless, wouldn't you agree?"

Aurelia's face contorted in horror. Images of excruciating torture filled her mind, and a primal scream threatened to escape her throat. Her parents wouldn't want this, wouldn't want her to suffer such a fate. They were gone already, their lives snuffed out by this very man. The knowledge was a bitter pill to swallow, a constant reminder of her helplessness.

A laugh, devoid of humor, escaped Samael's lips. "Now, now, Aurelia," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "No need for such vivid imaginations. While the punishment for a murderer is indeed… severe, I wouldn't want you to fret." His eyes, however, held a glint of something far more sinister than reassurance.

He gestured towards the vibrant flowerbed beside them, its cheerful colors a stark contrast to the dark turn their conversation had taken. "Perhaps a change of scenery is in order," he continued, his voice returning to its usual authoritative tone. "How about a walk? These gardens seem to be weighing heavily on your mind."

Samael strode down the garden path, his long black boots crunching on the gravel. He moved with an air of predatory grace, his broad shoulders casting a wide shadow. Aurelia trailed behind him, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. The King's chilling descriptions of a murderer's fate echoed in her head, a constant reminder of her precarious position.

Suddenly, he stopped. Aurelia, lost in her thoughts, wasn't paying attention. With a startled gasp, she stumbled forward, her face crashing squarely into the King's broad back. The impact knocked the breath out of her lungs, and she stumbled back, clutching her nose.

He turned to face her a flicker of amusement danced in his golden eyes as he glanced at Aurelia's reddened nose. "Seems clumsiness isn't limited to swings, is it, sweetness?" he remarked, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

Aurelia flushed crimson in a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "My apologies, Your Majesty," she stammered, rubbing her throbbing nose. "I wasn't… paying attention."

He swept his gaze around the garden. His eyes landed on a nearby bed of flowers, a stark contrast to the vibrant blooms surrounding them.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" he murmured, his voice taking on an almost wistful tone. "Nightshade. Deceptive in its beauty, yet deadly in its touch."

Aurelia's eyes narrowed as she followed his gaze. Nightshade. A poisonous flower, beautiful to the untrained eye, yet deadly if ingested. An unsettling feeling gnawed at her. Was this another veiled threat?

Aurelia maintained a wary distance from King Samael as they continued their walk. The memory of her near collision and his unsettling words about nightshade lingered in her mind.

The rhythmic crunch of footsteps approaching from behind broke the tense silence. Aurelia peeked out from behind the King's broad frame, her heart pounding in her chest. A lean man, his features obscured by the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, approached them. He bowed deeply to the King, his movements fluid and practiced.

"Your Majesty," the newcomer greeted, his voice resonating with a measured politeness.

As the man straightened, his gaze flicked towards Aurelia. A flicker of surprise, quickly masked by a polite smile, crossed his face. "Ah, and the guest," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "I presume this is the lady the castle servants have been buzzing about?"

Samael, his expression unreadable, remained silent. He didn't spare Sir Rayden, as the man introduced himself, a single word for a greeting.

"Sir Rayden, at your service, milady," he said, his smile widening slightly. His eyes, a bright brown, held a spark of curiosity that sent a jolt down Aurelia's spine. It was the kind of curiosity that felt intrusive, like he was trying to see through her carefully constructed facade.

Rayden, seemingly unfazed by the King's dismissive attitude, continued speaking. "In light of Lord Arnold's unfortunate… demise," he emphasized the word "demise" with a touch too much relish, "I took the liberty of sending a token of condolence to his family. Rest assured, Your Majesty, they have been assured that the perpetrator will be brought to justice."

He added, his voice taking on a slightly smug tone. "Justice will be served, Your Majesty, have no doubt."

Samael remained silent, his gaze fixed on the unfurled scroll in his hand.

Aurelia felt a cold prickle crawl down her spine as she stole a glance at King Samael. Was he going to expose her? Did Sir Rayden already suspect her involvement in Lord Arnold's death? Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the tense silence.

But to her surprise, the King's reaction was far from what she expected. With a curt nod, he folded the scroll and shoved it back into Sir Rayden's hands. His voice, devoid of any warmth, issued a single command.

"Arrange a carriage. "

Aurelia's initial surge of fear gave way to a flicker of hope. Was he leaving? Would she be free from his oppressive presence for another week?

A tiny spark of relief ignited within her, but it was quickly extinguished by the Samael's following words.

"See you at dinner, sweetness," he said, his dark eyes glinting with a hint of something unreadable. Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode away, Sir Rayden trailing behind him like a loyal shadow.