Vengeance Through Passion

The sudden change in surroundings was dizzying for Aricia. One moment she had been standing outside, confused about her registration, and the next she was walking through the heavy doors of one of the most powerful families in the region.

The air inside the palace was cooler, and the sounds of the outside world seemed to fade into a distant hum. Aricia glanced around, her senses overwhelmed by the grandeur. Intricate tapestries adorned the stone walls, depicting battles, legendary creatures, and the proud history of House Blackwell. Rich velvet curtains framed massive windows, letting in slivers of light that cast long shadows across the polished marble floors.

Lady Nyph released her grip on Aricia's hand, turning to address her once more. "What exactly are you here for?" she asked, her tone slightly more measured now that they were inside the palace.

Aricia hesitated, her mind racing for an answer. "I... I was sent here by Oswald," she stammered, her nerves getting the better of her once again. "I believe there was some confusion with the registration, but I'm not here as a servant."

Lady Nyph looked her up and down, as if assessing her sincerity. For a moment, it seemed she might question Aricia further, but then her gaze softened slightly. "Very well," she said with a nod. "I'll allow you to stay for now, but you will need to speak with my father or the head of the staff to sort this out."

Relief washed over Aricia, though she knew this was only the beginning.

What was Oswald thinking, sending her here without proper arrangements? She had to find Arthur again and get this sorted out, but for now, she was grateful that Lady Nyph hadn't thrown her out immediately.

They continued deeper into the palace, the corridors twisting and turning as they made their way toward the main hall. The sounds of distant voices and the occasional clatter of servants at work echoed through the halls. Aricia’s nerves gradually settled as she absorbed her surroundings, though the looming questions about Oswald and her purpose here lingered in the back of her mind.

Finally, they reached a large doorway, and Lady Nyph gestured for her to enter. "Wait here," she instructed, "I'll see if I can find Arthur for you."

Aricia nodded silently.

'Wait what?'

Nyph disappeared down the hallway. She was alone now, standing in a grand receiving room adorned with gold accents and regal furniture. The weight of the situation pressed down on her again. What would she do if Arthur couldn’t find a record of her or Oswald? Would they throw her out? Or worse—was she being set up for something? Doubts began to creep in, and Aricia found herself pacing back and forth as she waited for Lady Nyph to return.

Aricia moved quietly, slipping into the bustling crowd of workers without drawing attention. Her heart raced as her eyes darted around the busy courtyard, watching the people who seemed to move with purpose and familiarity. She felt out of place, yet the urgency of her situation left little room for hesitation. She no longer cared if she was supposed to be there, nor did she worry about getting paid for any work she might perform. Her only focus was survival, and blending in with the workers seemed like the best way to escape unnoticed.

The atmosphere around her buzzed with activity—voices calling out instructions, the clatter of tools, and the constant shuffle of feet over stone and dirt. Decorations were being hoisted onto tall poles, tapestries unfurled, and tables arranged for the upcoming ceremony. The air was thick with a mixture of sweat, the fragrance of fresh flowers, and the tang of burning candles.

She kept her head down, her hair falling forward to obscure her face. It was a small comfort, that veil of anonymity, and she was grateful for it. That is, until she felt the eyes of someone settle on her. One of the workers, an older woman with a seasoned face, approached another and asked in a voice just loud enough to be heard over the noise, "Who might this lady be?"

"Oh, I'm Ricia," she replied smoothly, her voice steady though her heart pounded in her chest. "I will be working on the decorations for the ceremony."

The older woman gave her a quick look up and down, sizing her up. After a brief pause, she gestured to another part of the courtyard. "The decoration team is over there," she said, pointing toward a group of people busily hanging garlands and arranging floral displays. "This is for the catering services."

Aricia felt a rush of relief but quickly masked it with a polite bow. "My apologies," she said, her voice soft and formal as she turned away. Her mind raced as she quickly walked toward the direction the woman had pointed, but inwardly, she berated herself. She never did well with directions when she was nervous, and the pressure of this situation was making it worse.

As she moved, her fingers absentmindedly toyed with the bandages on her hands. Her path led her toward a familiar figure. She recognized him at once—Caelric, with his tall, commanding presence and ever-watchful gaze. As she approached, she saw him shift, his mouth opening to speak, but before he could say anything, she walked past him as if she hadn’t noticed.

She was keenly aware of him, though. His presence, unsettling as it was, had become almost a constant in the palace. Aricia didn’t know much about the Blackwell family—nobody did. The royal families didn’t usually mingle with the common folk, much less partake in the busywork of preparations. But they seemed to be everywhere, appearing at the oddest of times and in the most unusual places. It was almost as if they moved with purpose beyond what anyone else could see.

Just as she was convincing herself to focus on the task at hand, something strange happened. Before she could register the movement, Caelric was suddenly standing in front of her, cutting off her path as if he had materialized out of thin air. Aricia’s breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat as she stared at him in surprise.

"Are you avoiding me?" Caelric’s voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of amusement in it, as if he were in on some secret that she wasn’t privy to.

Still dumbfounded by his sudden appearance, Aricia mumbled something incoherent, instinctively stepping to the side to go around him. But before she could even blink, he was in front of her again, as though he had anticipated her every move.

"You should stay clear of Arthur," Caelric warned her, his tone shifting to something more serious. "He doesn’t take kindly to rule-breakers. Except for me and Vin... but never mind that."

Aricia blinked, her confusion deepening. Was she slow, or was this man unnaturally fast? She recalled a similar encounter in the market—an unsettling déjà vu of that mysterious man who had appeared and disappeared just as quickly.

There was something peculiar about the Blackwells, something that felt off. That she knew but this was too unnatural.

Shaking her head, she decided not to dwell on it. She had other things to worry about. Lady Nyphera was already among the workers, her presence a sharp contrast to the mystery of the Blackwells. With her bright expression and warm smile, she was a beacon of light amidst the otherwise tense atmosphere. She worked with her hands, just like everyone else, a rare sight for someone of her status.

When Lady Nyph saw Aricia, her face lit up with recognition. "It's you again," she called out, laughing lightly. "No hope of finding Arthur in this crowd!"

The laughter was infectious, and Aricia found herself smiling despite her tension. Lady Nyph's easygoing nature always seemed to put her at ease.

"Anyway," Lady Nyph continued, picking up a folded set of clothes and handing them to Aricia, "Could you kindly drop this pair of clothes over there?" She pointed to a door at the top of the colossal staircase, the polished oak gleaming even from a distance. "And be quiet, okay?" she added.

Aricia nodded, accepting the clothes and feeling a small wave of relief at having something to do, though she still found it strange that she was being sent on errands rather than helping with the decorations as planned. The weight of the clothes in her arms felt almost symbolic of the burden on her shoulders as she climbed the grand staircase. Her footsteps echoed off the stone, each step a reminder of the unfamiliarity of this world she had thrust herself into.

Halfway up the stairs, she tripped, her foot catching on the hem of her dress. She stumbled but managed to catch herself before she fell, her heart racing once more. Straightening up, she continued, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment despite no one having seen the misstep.

Finally, she reached the door. It stood tall and imposing before her, the polished oak gleaming under the soft light from the sconces on the walls. For a moment, she hesitated. She wasn't sure why, but something about the door unsettled her. Lady Nyphera had asked her to be quiet, which only added to the sense of unease.

She raised her hand to knock, but paused. Lady Nyphera had specifically requested silence. Instead, she carefully turned the handle, the heavy door creaking as it opened. The room beyond was dark, the only light spilling in from the hallway behind her. As Aricia stepped inside, she squinted, trying to make out the shapes in the dimness.

And then, before she could fully comprehend what was before her, she was already screaming.

***

"Ahhhh!" The scream tore from Aricia's throat before she could stop it. Panic washed over her, her eyes wide as they locked onto the figure stirring in the dim room.

She immediately clamped her hand over her mouth, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet space. Her pulse quickened, and she took a shaky step back, her mind racing with how to salvage the situation.

It only got worse when the man, who had clearly been sleeping, blinked up at her in confusion. For a moment, in the half-light, his disheveled appearance made him seem almost monstrous—his silver hair gleamed faintly, catching the sparse light that was filtered into the room. His face was drawn, marked with shadows from his half-awake state, and his bare chest rose and fell steadily, though the tension in his muscles suggested he was ready to spring up at a moment’s notice.

Aricia froze where she stood. Her heart pounded in her ears, her breath shallow as the man’s narrowed gaze focused on her. Every instinct told her to run, but she knew she wouldn’t make it out of the room without drawing more attention to herself.

'Okay, calm down. I can still make it out of here', she told herself, fighting the overwhelming urge to flee. But before she could make a move, the man sat up fully, rubbing his eyes. He glanced at her again, his brow furrowing in suspicion.

“Who—”

Before he could finish the question, the door burst open. Aricia whipped her head around in time to see Caelric striding into the room, his gaze quickly sweeping over the scene. His presence, as sudden as it was, did nothing to ease her tension.

"What the fuck Richard?" The man in the bed asked, sounding a little groggy, as if still not fully awake.

"Cealric, brother," Caelric responded smoothly, stepping further into the room, his usual calm demeanor unchanged by the situation.

Aricia’s stomach dropped.

"Brother?"

Her eyes widened, and she wished desperately for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.