Chapter 26 - Trusting No One

"His puppet?" Renee's eyebrows drew together in confusion. She could still feel the effect of the drink in her system, and her eyelids were starting to grow heavy, a sign of sleep about to whisk her to the other realm.

"You should get some sleep." Rising from the chair after noticing the sleepyhead time was due, Lysander wanted to tuck her in, but she refused his help. As expected, this woman would be difficult to put up with, and somehow he liked the idea of it.

"I'm not a child, I can put myself to sleep." She snatched the duvet from his grip, but he only smiled, making her draw her lips into a scowl, because he was giving her the complete opposite reaction she wanted. She lied properly on the bed, but made no attempts to cover herself with the duvet.

"You haven't told me what you mean by puppet." She reminded him, her heavy ruby eyes returning to stare at where he stood. She really wanted to hear more, but it seems beating this sleep was impossible, cause her eyes were already closing against her will. The bed itself was like a plush paradise, she didn't want to resist it, but at the same time, she wanted to hear more.

"Good night." Lysander's soothing timbre was the last thing her ears could catch before she drifted to the other realm.

He proceeded to take off her shoes for her, releasing a tsk as he slid them off gently from her dainty foot. He left her stockings on, since these parts of the mountains were unusually cold, mostly in the middle of the night. He covered her up with the duvet, tucking her in at the end, and thankfully, she didn't wake up throughout the process.

After all of her 'I can take care of myself ' excuses, he was the one to tuck her in at the end of it.

"Hassled me for nothing." He mumbled, turning off one of the lamps and leaving the one at her bedside on.

When he was done, he quietly crouched beside her bedside, watching her sleep so peacefully, her breath steady and normal. A flicker of unwavering emotions crossed his eyes, and he lifted a finger, wanting to help her get rid of the hair on her face, to touch her most especially, but he suddenly hesitated midway. He couldn't bring himself to do it, not yet, not now, but soon.

He just needs to hold on a bit longer.

"You haven't changed." A small, half-hearted smile graced his lips, and he was tempted to sit here and shield her from her nightmares, if that would be possible, but something told him if she wakes up and finds him here, she'd freak out, and he was likely to get punched in the face again.

Dropping his hand at his side, he rose to his full height and convinced himself that he needed to leave. Reaching the door, he took one last, lingering look at her before exiting the place. Just in time, Cyrus showed up the minute he walked out, and the two of them ended up crossing paths at her doorstep.

At first, he could see confusion cloud her brother's face, which was normal, cause who wouldn't be alarmed when seeing a man, no less than a stranger step out from his sister's room, but before Cyrus could jump into what Lysander considered a nonsensical conclusion, he beat him to it.

"I know what you're thinking," he pointed out, "but you left her alone, first of all. If you're really concerned about her safety, maybe you should have been with her as her older brother, you're basically all she has, and the only one she can possibly rely on. She got drunk, but she's asleep now, and no, I never tried anything inappropriate with her." He dropped as a matter-of-fact.

Cyrus's parted lips closed, and he swallowed repeatedly. He couldn't say anything in defense, not when he just got humbled by the same person he suspected the most in the house. He knew he shouldn't have left his sister like that, she did what she thought was right at the moment in order to save him, and he got angry because of that.

He was literally here to apologize and make sure she was fine, and for some reason, he believed this stranger too.

"I'm not here for you," Cyrus stated, and it was a half-lie. "I'm here to ensure that bastard Caden doesn't show up at her doorstep, not when I'm around." His hands curled into fist at what would have happened if he ran into Caden and not Lysander, his voice dripping with repugnance, but his hostile gaze suddenly softened.

"She probably still hasn't tucked herself in yet, I'll go take a look and see–"

"I… already did that." Lysander admitted as he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing askance, and it caught Cyrus off-guard, "it will be wise if you stay with her through the night, cause I don't trust anyone within these walls either."

Not even himself.

Dropping that last advice, he strolled off in the opposite direction, heading towards the downstairs staircase.

—--

'SPLASH!'

"Did you intend to burn my tongue with this? I asked for hot water, not boiling water, you incompetent little rat!" The princess kept the empty porcelain kettle back on the tray, her eyes glinting with pure malice after watching the silent eighteen-year-old servant drop to her knees, her body trembling from the pain after having hot water splashed on her face.

"If you fail to learn to do things right, I can promise you that your punishment in the future will be more severe." She warned, stirring her cup gently with the spoon and taking a sip from her hot, delicious tea.

That cool, summer night in the royal palace of Rivendell, the princess had requested for some hot tea in her chamber and assigned a maid to do it, but unfortunately enough, Renee became a victim to the princess's rage, because in the end, the servants who sent her on this errand intentionally made the water reach its boiling point on purpose, just so she would get into trouble and face the psychotic princess.

"What a waste to be born pretty if you ended up as nothing but a petty little servant," came the princess's sympathetic mocking, "do you know why? It's because no one would look in your direction. If your whole family could sell you to the Palace, as a slave, for mere silver coins, it depreciates your worth, darling. I can almost say I feel sad for you now."

Renee dared not raise her head up, but her victimized face turned red from the burning pain, her crimson eyes watering in agony as she stayed low. She bit her lower lips till they bled, struggling to maintain her sobs, and that was all she could do. She hoped the witch of a princess would let her go, but instead, she kept lecturing her about how she was sold and how her existence held not a single value to anyone.

What's the use of defending words that were true?

"If I was born into the likes of you, I would climb the Palace terrace and drop to my death." The princess stopped stirring her tea, and her malicious eyes returned to the trembling body bowing in front of her.

"You're dismissed, if I have to see that face of yours I will lose my appetite for the night. Now, off you go." Dismissing her presence with a wave of her hand, Renee bowed once more to the princess before exiting the chamber as quickly as she could.

With her hand still clutching the side of her burning face, Renee picked her dress with the other hand and ran straight to her only sanctuary in the palace; the garden.

Reaching the little stream that shimmered with the moonlight's reflection, she slowly peered into the water, and she gasped in shock when the left side of her face looked totally disfigured. The scalding water left an angry red imprint on her face, the burns, resembling a fierce sunburn. Blisters formed, hinting at the intensity of the scorching liquid impact, and her skin felt tenderly discomforting to the touch, asides the burning pain.

"My face!" Renee's voice croaked with grief, unable to believe what she was currently gazing at. The painful words of the princess echoed like a haunting melody in her head, and it was true. If her own parents could sell her off to these devils in the royal palace, then her existence meant nothing.

She had no one to run to, not a single person. She was utterly alone in this cruel world.