Lilia's eyes fluttered open, the faint light filtering through the curtains casting soft streaks across the room. A long yawn escaped her lips as she stretched, her body unusually rested, as though she hadn't slept this peacefully in years.
For a fleeting moment, her mind was calm—a blissful reprieve from the chaos of her daily life.
Then, like a floodgate opening, the memories surged back.
Her breath hitched. She bolted upright, her eyes wide with panic.
"Oh no!" she muttered, hitting her forehead repeatedly with the palm of her hand, as if punishing herself could undo the events of the last day.
Her heart pounded in her chest, and her stomach churned with the weight of realization. The engagement ceremony. The one thing she couldn't afford to mess up. She had ruined everything.
"What have I done?" she whispered harshly, her voice trembling as guilt crashed over her like a wave. Her hands clutched at the sheets, her knuckles whitening under the pressure. How could she have let this happen?
Frantically, she grabbed her phone from the bed, the cold metal sharp against her fingertips. The screen flickered on, displaying the time. It was already evening.
A bitter smile twisted her lips as her shoulders sagged. "Of course," she murmured, her voice heavy with disbelief. "Of course, this would happen." She stared at the device as though willing it to rewind the hours she had lost.
She set the phone aside and looked at the bed accusingly. It mocked her, standing there in its plush, pristine glory. "What kind of spell is this?" she grumbled, swinging her bare feet onto the floor and kicking the mattress with a swift jab. Pain shot up her toes, sharp and immediate, but she barely winced. The sting was nothing compared to the frustration boiling inside her.
Her tantrum was interrupted by a soft knock at the door, followed by a voice.
"Good evening, Miss Lilia."
She froze mid-motion, her breath caught in her throat. Slowly turning, she spotted a young woman standing in the doorway, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Lilia recognized her: Evie, the assistant who had been assigned to her just yesterday.
"Miss Lilia, are you alright?" Evie's brows furrowed slightly, concern etched into her otherwise composed expression.
Lilia forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. "I'm fine," she lied, her voice unconvincing even to her own ears. She straightened her posture, trying to mask her inner turmoil.
Evie tilted her head, her skeptical gaze lingering for a moment longer than Lilia liked. "As I mentioned before, I'm your assistant. I'm here to wake you each morning and guide you through the day's activities."
Lilia blinked, her mind struggling to process the statement. Why hadn't she woken her this morning? Her lips parted, the question on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped herself. It wasn't Evie's fault. No, the blame rested solely on her own shoulders. Who knew that closing her eyes for "just five minutes" could spiral into a full day of sleep?
As if sensing her unspoken thoughts, Evie added, "Mr. Zethan instructed me not to disturb you. He said you needed your rest."
Lilia's breath hitched again. Zethan. The name sent a ripple of emotions through her—frustration, confusion, and something she couldn't quite place.
She opened her mouth to respond but found herself speechless. What was she supposed to say? Should she laugh at the irony? Cry out of sheer frustration?
Instead, she settled for a stiff nod, her emotions too tangled to untangle just yet.
"Your bath is ready," Evie continued, her voice softening. "I'll leave you to prepare. Dinner will be served shortly."
Lilia nodded again, her throat tight. She waited until the door clicked shut before exhaling sharply, the sound shaky and uneven. Alone once more, she allowed herself a moment to breathe, to let the storm in her mind rage unchecked.
Her gaze drifted back to the bed, the once-inviting mattress now an object of contempt. "You're the real culprit here," she muttered, her tone bitter. "A spell in disguise."
She dragged herself to the bathroom, her footsteps heavy against the tiled floor. The room, like the rest of the house, was immaculate. The air smelled faintly of lavender, and the gleaming bathtub sat in the center, filled with steaming water. The scene should have been calming, but to Lilia, it felt like another trap.
"I don't have time for this," she mumbled, glaring at the water as though it had personally offended her.
Still, she reluctantly stepped into the tub, the warmth wrapping around her like a reluctant embrace. Her mind refused to quiet. Her future felt like a puzzle she didn't have the pieces to complete.
After a quick soak and warm shower, she stepped out and reached for the light blue gown that Evie had left for her. The fabric was soft, flowing gently around her frame as she slipped it on. It was a beautiful dress, elegant and understated, but even its comforting touch did little to soothe her restless thoughts.
Standing before the mirror, she stared at her reflection. Loose waves of hair framed her face, cascading over her shoulders. Her golden brown eyes—once a source of pride—now looked back at her, filled with worry and regret. She barely recognized herself.
"This is what you've become," she murmured, her voice hollow. "A mess."
Shaking her head, she turned away and stepped into the hallway, where Evie was waiting.
"Miss Lilia, this way, please," Evie said, gesturing politely.
Lilia followed in silence, her gaze wandering to the grand surroundings. The house was impossibly luxurious, every corner a testament to wealth and taste. Ornate wallpaper lined the walls, intricate chandeliers hung from the ceilings, and marble floors stretched endlessly beneath her feet. It was beautiful, yes, but it felt wrong—cold and lifeless, as if the grandeur itself was mocking her.
They descended a sweeping staircase, the evening light casting long shadows across the marble steps. Lilia's breath hitched as they entered the dining room. The space was grand, too grand, with high ceilings and an air of detachment that made her skin prickle.
And there he was—Zethan.
Seated at the head of the long table, his posture was perfect, his movements precise as he ate. The air around him seemed to shift, heavy with authority. He looked up briefly, his piercing gaze meeting hers before returning to his plate.
Lilia swallowed hard. Zethan was undeniably handsome, his features sharp and refined, his presence commanding. But his demeanor was as cold as ever, an impenetrable wall she couldn't hope to breach.
She approached the table cautiously, the sound of her footsteps swallowed by the vastness of the room. Taking her seat, she forced herself to breathe evenly, though the silence between them felt suffocating.
"Good evening," she said softly, her voice barely audible.
Zethan didn't respond. His attention remained fixed on his plate, his expression unreadable. The lack of acknowledgment stung, though she had expected it.
Typical, she thought, rolling her eyes internally. Pride won't let him say a simple 'good evening.'
She turned her attention to the meal before her, a feast fit for royalty. Platters of food stretched across the table, far too much for just the two of them. The sight only added to the surrealness of the evening.
Does he live like this every day? she wondered, her thoughts drifting. The opulence was suffocating, each lavish detail a reminder of how far removed this world was from her own. She wasn't meant for this life.
The silence stretched on, broken only by the faint clink of silverware. Lilia tried to focus on the food, though she barely tasted it. Her thoughts were a whirlwind, her emotions too raw to ignore.
Then, Zethan's voice cut through the quiet like a knife.
"The engagement is canceled," he said flatly.