The next morning, Ivory woke up to an empty bed, feeling a sense of unease. Lucien was nowhere to be found, but instead, she was surrounded by maids who helped her get ready for the day. As she rushed downstairs to join the others for breakfast, she caught snippets of hushed conversations among the servants.
"I heard the bed was clean," one of them whispered. "Not a single speck of blood."
"That means the master didn't finish what he started," another servant replied, their voice barely audible.
"It seems that way," a third servant chimed in. "But if that's the case, what's the point of this arrangement?"
"I overheard the boss saying last night that this is just a business deal," another servant added, their tone laced with skepticism.
Ivory's confusion deepened as she tried to make sense of the cryptic conversation. She felt like she was missing a crucial piece of information. The atmosphere at breakfast was tense and quiet, with no one daring to break the silence. The usual chatter and clinking of utensils were noticeably absent, leaving only an uncomfortable stillness.
As Ivory took her seat, she couldn't help but wonder what was really going on. What did the servants mean by "the master" and "the work"? And what kind of deal had Lucien made? The questions swirled in her mind, but she had no answers.
As the morning wore on, the men of the house departed for their daily pursuits, leaving Ivory feeling uncertain and alone. She noticed her mother-in-law, Catherine, retreating to the study room with her two daughters, and Ivory's curiosity got the better of her. She began to follow them, hoping to find some clarity or connection.
However, Sophia, the sternly intercepted her. "Don't follow them, Ivory," Sophia warned, her voice low and serious. "They prefer to work undisturbed. Instead, make a list of your interests and hobbies, and seek Lucien's approval. The longer you delay, the more difficulties you'll face."
Ivory's confusion deepened. "What do you mean?" she started to ask, but Sophia had already turned and disappeared, leaving Ivory with more questions than answers.
Undeterred, Ivory entered the room, hoping to find some solace or guidance. However, she found herself at a loss, unsure of what to do or how to occupy herself. She spent hours organizing her belongings in the spacious walk-in closet, but the silence and isolation only added to her growing unease.
As the day drew to a close, the distant sounds of wild animals echoed through the night air, and Ivory's worry for Lucien's safety began to gnaw at her. She ventured to the hall, seeking someone to ask about Lucien's return, but the eerie silence and empty corridors only added to her disquiet.
Disappointed and concerned, Ivory retreated to her room, where Catherine had thoughtfully sent a tray of food. Yet, this small kindness only sparked more questions. Why was everyone eating in their rooms tonight, when the usual custom was to dine together? The rules and routines of this mysterious household seemed to shift like the shadows, leaving Ivory feeling lost and alone.
Ivory's tranquil slumber was shattered by the faint sound of shattering glass, like the delicate tinkling of a crystal vase dropped on marble. She hastily threw off her covers, the soft fabric rustling as she stepped out into the darkness, adjusting her nightgown to conceal her trembling body. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the distant, mournful hooting of owls outside, their haunting melodies echoing through the stillness like restless spirits.
As her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, the moon's silvery glow cast an ethereal light on the scene before her. Sophia and Dylan were entwined in a passionate, forbidden embrace by the window, their bodies swaying like dancers in a macabre waltz. Ivory's feet seemed rooted to the spot, her gaze transfixed by the intensity of the moment, as if mesmerized by a serpent's hypnotic gaze.
Sophia's bare skin was illuminated by the moonbeams, her curves glowing like alabaster in the soft light. Dylan's hands were roaming her body with reckless abandon, his fingers tracing paths of desire on her skin. The air was heavy with the scent of passion, the musky aroma of forbidden fruit, and Ivory felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation stir within her, like a dormant flame flickering to life.
She knew she should look away, but her gaze was ensnared by the primal intensity of the moment. Sophia's sighs and Dylan's urgent kisses seemed to draw her in, like a moth helpless against the allure of a flame. Ivory's own body began to respond, her heart racing like a wild animal, her breath catching in her throat like a trapped bird.
Just as she was frozen in a mix of shock, fascination, and burgeoning desire, Lucien appeared behind her, his arms wrapping around her like a vice, his grip tightening like a steel trap. He swept her away from the scene, his face taut with restraint, his eyes blazing like embers from a fire barely contained. Ivory's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she realized what she had been witnessing – and what she had been feeling.
Lucien's voice was low and husky, his words barely above a whisper as he spoke against Ivory's ear. "What are you doing, Ivory? You shouldn't have seen that. It's not for your eyes."
He paused, his chest heaving with restrained emotion, his arms still wrapped tightly around her. "You're so innocent, so pure. I don't want you tainted by this darkness."
Ivory felt a shiver run down her spine as Lucien's breath caressed her skin. She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat.
Lucien's grip tightened, his fingers digging into her arms. "I know you're curious, but trust me, you don't want to know the secrets that lurk in this house. Just forget what you saw, and let's pretend it never happened."
He released her, his eyes burning with an inner intensity as he gazed at her. "Can you do that for me, Ivory? Can you forget?"
Ivory nodded, still trying to process the tumultuous emotions swirling within her. But as she looked into Lucien's eyes, she wondered if she could ever truly forget the forbidden scene she had witnessed, or the strange, thrilling sensations it had awakened within her.