I wake up. I feel thirsty. I take the glass of water beside my bed and empty it. I look around. I am back in my room. It's dark. The windows are shut, which gives a ghostly aura to the marigolds embedded in the heavy curtains. I look at the clock. It's already afternoon.
I am a little dizzy, but I can function already. I sit up from the bed, fixing my hair away from my face. That poison. I know I was dying then. Did some passerby help and bring me here?
"Aiko?" I call.
If she's not in the room, I'm sure she's waiting outside the door. I make my way towards the door. My knees feel weak, but they can handle my weight.
"Aiko?"
She's not outside either. Not even sitting along the long hallway. Where is she when she's aware that her mistress is sick? I lean on the doorway. I need food and I need to know how I was able to survive.
Two people turn into the hallway—Calais and Jonathan. They are laughing at each other and they are both drenched in sweat. Calais's shirt is clinging to his upper torso, giving me a glimpse of his perfect, muscular form. They are carrying swords, which means they are training in the courtyard.
The two stop laughing when they see me leaning on the door frame. Calais runs towards me.
"What are you doing!?"
"Where's Aiko?" I say. "I need food."
Without warning, Calais puts his arm under my knees and the other behind my back, then he lifts me. Surprised, my arms wind around his neck.
"Jonathan, can you bring Aiko here?" he orders.
"Got it," my brother says with no complaints.
Calais enters my room with me in his arms by using his feet to open and close it. He lays me down on my bed and says, "You almost died from the poison, do you know that?"
"What are you doing here?" I ask, fixing myself as I sit on my bed.
He flicks my forehead and sits beside me. "When I come back for you, you're no longer there. Thankfully, I chanced upon you a hundred meters away from the Pellegrini estate."
"You saved me?" I ask incredulously. I wonder how long it took before he realized I was gone.
"I did. But it's Eliana who is the most worried."
"Where is she?"
"Taking care of Tiana, the name of the female servant who stabbed you."
He pauses, then looks at me. I lean back at the headboard. That look. I know he needs something from me, and I already have a hunch of what it is.
"About Tiana… She lost her kid and…"
"I'm not going to send her to prison, or some kind of dungeon," I say, hugging my knees to my chest.
If only I am certain that Lyrica would not take a child from his mother, Tiana would pay. But I know that there might be some truth in it, something that I need to find out.
"I'm about to request not to kill her and just send her to prison. But if you can forgive her, that's fine, too."
He pauses and stares at me, while I look away and stare at nothing at the foot of my bed. Finally, I whisper, "Her kid. What does he look like?"
"He's ten years old. Same dirty blonde hair as Tiana and he acts like her, too."
"So Tiana is older than I am?"
"She looks young, but she is already in her mid-thirties."
"What's her kid's name?"
"Tyler."
Tyler. I can't remember that name. Is he one of those side characters? Even Lyrica can't remember that name. In the novel, Lyrica is rumored to have slaves and monsters, but it's not proven. Lyrica's downfall is her multiple attempts to kill Eliana, who was then a favorite concubine.
I cared little about their names as they seem to be not as important in the novel. But here, they are real—as real as me in Lyrica's body.
"Why are you asking?" Calais asks, interrupting my thoughts.
"Because Tiana seems too sure that I kidnapped her son," I answer.
I need to check it. I need to find out everything about Lyrica that is not said in the novel. Even in Lyrica's memories, I can't find a part where she dabbled in slaves, monsters, and drugs, even though Princess of Fate readers knew she did. There is just not enough proof to indict her.
"Lyrica, Tiana's kid is dead," Calais says.
I shift my attention to him. He's moving closer to me. "How?"
"He's run over by a carriage."
I want to ask if I did it, but asking that will just make him suspicious of me. "Did you see his corpse?"
"Yes, I am at his funeral."
My chest hurts. For a young child to die that way, and for his mother to get broken like that. I feel the tears coming, so I hide my face on my knees.
"Do you know why I am being accused of his death?" I ask, my voice muffled by the blankets that I wrap around me.
"Because Tiana was working here before she transferred to the Pelligrini estate. She didn't have a pleasant experience working here."
Before I can wipe my tears, Calais lifts my chin. "You're crying," he comments, as if it's alien in my face. "For another person's pain."
Then he makes me look into his eyes and gently wipes the tears on my face. I recoil at the way his thumb strokes my cheeks, but he holds my face in place.
Temporarily forgetting about Tiana, I gaze at him. Blue hair and black eyes, but now that he's so close to me, I can see that there is a glint of blue on his irises. It is beautiful. Like little gems that can't help but shine even in the dark.
"You are exquisite, Lyrica," he whispers.
I widen my eyes, and before I can even respond, he leans closer and kisses the side of my neck. I flinch at the sensation. It is new. The feeling of his lips and hot breath on my neck sends tingles throughout my body. I feel my cheeks warm.
Then, his tongue slides at the side of my neck, and I shiver. My hands automatically go around his neck and shoulders. He pulls me down to the bed as he sucks on my neck. I moan.
The sound wakes me up—as if from a dreamy state. I realize that my hair is unbound and is all over the pillows. I can feel Calais' hand on the small side of my waist while the other is keeping my head in place as he continues to put a mark on me.
And then his sweat. He just came back from the courtyard for a sword practice with Jonathan. It's musky and yet, I like his smell.
I gently push at him. "Calais, your shirt… You're drenched."
Calais pulls back and stares at my face. There it is again. The desire for a woman. He pulls up his shirt and nonchalantly throws it at the side of the bed. My breath catches as I watch the perfect form of the man on top of me. He situates both my legs between him as if he's trying to trap me on the bed, so I can't escape to what is about to come next. And thinking of it sends a delicious shiver throughout my body.