Sienna Daelith
The looming doors of Lord Darius Daelith's private hall stood tall and menacing before Sienna, draped in ornate designs of serpentine figures and intricate, interlocking runes. They emanated an unspoken warning, a silent dare for anyone audacious enough to enter his domain uninvited. For most, even servants who'd spent years in the estate, crossing this threshold unbidden would have been an act of sheer recklessness.
But Sienna knew better. She knew the game and the calculated steps it required, the nuance of words and glances in the presence of Darius. Today, she had her reasons to see him. She reminded herself that, though she hadn't seen him often, each encounter was a performance check. Her pulse beat heavily against her chest as she waited to be admitted, but outwardly, her expression was an elegant mask of confidence. This was essential: her father was quick to sense weakness.
As the doors opened, Sienna walked through with a grace honed by years of practice, her silvery hair flowing like liquid moonlight behind her. Lord Darius Daelith stood near his chamber's high windows, his figure cast in shadows. It struck her how little he had changed, still bearing an appearance as cold as the rumors whispered. His frame was tall and imposing, his face sharp with intellect, eyes as cold and calculated as ice.
She curtsied, her voice laced with respectful deference. "Father."
Darius turned to look at her, his gaze intense and unyielding. "Sienna. What a surprise," he murmured, though his voice carried no warmth, only distant interest. He tilted his head ever so slightly, as though examining her for flaws.
Despite the chill in his tone, Sienna remained resolute, unwilling to flinch under his stare. It was always like this—he scrutinized her, weighed her worth and potential, calculating her usefulness to his ambitions. Though she'd spent most of her life perfecting her mask, standing in his presence was like balancing on a knife's edge.
Her mind flicked to her purpose here. She softened her tone slightly, aware that she needed to appeal to his intrigue. "I had a request," she said, as though the idea were an afterthought. "The prisoner in the dungeon… Emery Aelthar. I'd like him as my personal toy."
Darius's brow lifted in mild surprise. "And what use do you have for him, my dear?" he asked, his voice both curious and indifferent. "You have little need for amusement, never taken any toys in thus far." He stepped closer, his presence an oppressive wave pressing down on her as he studied her carefully. "But perhaps you have a purpose in mind?"
Sienna's smile was delicate. "Of course, Father. Given his ties to House Aelthar, I thought his knowledge of their inner workings might prove useful. Though he may require… a gentler touch to persuade him," she added with a calculated innocence.
The implication lingered in the air, and her father's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he considered her request. In truth, she was driven by more than mere curiosity. Emery Aelthar represented a piece on her personal chessboard, a pawn in her maneuvering against her father and Lucien's grip over the house. Gaining his trust—or at least keeping him alive for her purposes—was essential.
Darius regarded her with a quiet intensity, but after a moment, he gave a slight nod. "Very well," he said. "Consider it granted, for now, considering your work has been outstanding as of recent." His voice held an edge that promised she'd pay if her plans faltered.
Sienna dipped her head in assent. "Of course, Father."
The conversation came to an end as swiftly as it had begun, and Sienna took it as her cue to leave. With a final curtsy, she exited his chambers, a surge of relief flooding her as she returned to the cold stone corridors of the estate. Father had given her permission, which was one small victory in a larger, more sinister game.
As she returned to her wing, her thoughts weighed heavily on what lay ahead. Aelthar was one step, but the path was filled with more unknowns than certainties. She knew that her life depended on keeping Darius and Lucien's suspicions at bay, while securing the means to ultimately break free from House Daelith's clutches. If Emery was a pawn, then Lucien was a ruthless adversary, and she was acutely aware of the brutal lesson he'd made of her elder brother.
In the novel, Darius demanded that Lucien kill Sienna's older half-brother right before her eyes when she was only twelve. She remembers the cold expression Lucien wore as he carried out the brutal command, unmoved by the horror he inflicted. For Darius, this display was more than punishment; it was a cruel test to reinforce his dominion over his family and demonstrate what happened to anyone who failed him. Even family.
As Sienna stood watching, Darius forced her to confront the harsh reality of the Daelith legacy, embedding in her a fear and obedience he believed would ensure her loyalty. This moment left an indelible mark on her, teaching her that within House Daelith, even family ties were disposable when power and loyalty were at stake.
She recalled the blue eyes of her brother Aldric, looking up at her one last time before he was beheaded in front of her very own eyes, her mother sobbing behind her as the entire situation unfolded.
Sienna shook her head slightly, banishing the image. She had no room for fear or misgivings. Those are what made people weak.
Her steps led her down the long marble corridors and, eventually, toward the greenhouse at the far edge of the estate. The air grew thick with the smell of dark earth and damp moss as she approached the enclosed section, hidden from plain sight. The greenhouse is usually reserved for her father's private gatherings, but she had claimed a small part of it for herself, a secret refuge known to no one, except perhaps Lyra.
A quiet, mysterious energy hung in the air as she entered, drawn to the small, concealed alcove where she kept her own secret—a glistening egg nestled among black rose petals and thorny vines. Its delicate surface gleamed in the waning sunlight, iridescent and faintly pulsing, as though holding a heartbeat of its own. Poison fairies, rare demonic creatures with ties to dark magic, grew from these unusual eggs, a phenomenon she had carefully cultivated and concealed from her family. The greenhouse was the only place she could nurture them in, with poisonous plants and a hostile environment, the egg was more than happy. Even so, there was only a thirty percent success rate. The harder task is training the creature once it is out of its shell. When they hatched, they could serve her in ways no human ever could, a silent army of loyal, deadly creatures, feeding off of her blood and hers only.
Sienna knelt beside the egg, feeling a quiet reverence as she ran her fingers lightly over its shell. It was close—almost ready to hatch. If she timed things correctly, the fairies could act as both her protectors and her spies, moving unseen in the darkest shadows of the estate. In order to establish control over the poison fairy, the master must feed it his or her blood on a regular basis. In order to gain faster results, my poison dosage must be increased, Sienna thought.
In the book, one of the male leads, "The White Tamer" is the one who discovered the poison butterfly egg, with the power to tame all sorts of evil creatures.
After a few moments, she rose, brushing off her gown. She couldn't stay long, not with the web she had to weave and the dangers waiting at every corner. But there was a strange comfort in knowing that something in this estate belonged to her alone, something she'd nurtured in secret and that might one day help her escape the fate that had claimed every other member of her house.
As she turned to leave, her heart was heavy but resolute. This was a world woven from shadows and blood, but she was determined to twist it to her own design, to use every asset—be it a prisoner, an egg, or her own pretty charm—until her enemies were blind to the noose tightening around them.
Although, now that she was thinking about it, Lucien was not in Father's room at all. Despite always being by Father's side, his appearance wasn't detected at all within the confined area.
"Father must've sent him off somewhere," Sienna muttered under her breath as she makes her way out of the greenhouse. After all, no one under the house of Daelith can go against his words.
The moment Sienna enters the halls of the Daelith mansion, she is approached by Lyra.
"I've just received a report about the dungeon. A guard was found unconscious today." Lyra mentions as she shifts through various paperwork in her hands.
"Oh really? I think I might know who's responsible. . . "
I have a bad feeling about this.