Should I knock?
Or should I just open the door and hope for the best?
My fingers hovered just above the doorknob, trembling. A cold sweat gathered at the back of my neck. Why did it feel like someone was already watching me from inside the room?
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the nervous hammering in my chest. This wasn't the end of the world. I was just delivering breakfast to a reclusive noble with a terrifying reputation. That's all.
I hesitated for a moment longer… then pushed the door open.
"I'm Evaline, your new caretaker," I began awkwardly. "I—um—I brought your breakfast—"
Before I could finish, a hand shot out of the darkness and clamped over my mouth. A strong weight crashed into me, slamming me against the heavy wooden door. My breath caught. The tray wobbled wildly in my hands as I tried desperately not to drop it. His grip was tight, and my back ached from the sudden impact.
I panicked.
I couldn't scream—his hand was pressing harder, muffling every sound. I couldn't even see his face clearly; the room was too dark, his silhouette hidden in shadow. Only the vague outline of broad shoulders and messy hair stood out against the faint sliver of light behind me.
Was this... Lord Caelvorn?
Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.
My heart raced as I repeated the words in my head like a prayer.
Slowly, as if realizing something, he pulled his hand back and stepped away, turning sharply to hide his face from me. I froze for a second, blinking in confusion and fear, then quickly placed the tray on a nearby desk cluttered with letters—dozens of them, maybe hundreds, all written in fancy inked script. My eyes lingered, curious. What did they say? Who wrote them? I couldn't read, but for the first time in my life, I wished I could.
The curtains were drawn tight, so I tugged them open to let in some light. The morning sun crept into the room, revealing a tall, pale figure leaning against the far wall—him.
The man who'd just attacked me.
The same man who had somehow thrown a book at my eye with perfect accuracy from the second floor.
Lord Caelvorn.
He was nothing like I imagined—and yet, somehow, exactly what I feared.
He stood only a few feet from me now, and I could see him clearly for the first time. His face was hauntingly beautiful, like something carved from marble. Flawless. Ethereal. Unreachable. His full lips were a soft, delicate pink, his cheekbones sharp and high. But his eyes… his eyes were what caught me.
Icy blue and rimmed in red.
He looked like he hadn't slept in days. Maybe longer. The dark circles under his eyes were bruised, hollow. His entire face screamed sorrow… or madness.
Something inside me stirred, a strange mix of awe and unease. I couldn't stop my hand from reaching up to brush the corner of his eye, as if I could wipe the pain away—but before I could touch him, he slapped my hand down hard.
The sting made me flinch.
He was fast, and his touch was rough—violent, even. But then, just as quickly, he reached for the same hand he had struck, gently bringing it to his chest and pressing it against his heart.
He looked... apologetic?
My breath hitched. What was this?
Confused and shaken, I yanked my hand back.
"Lord Caelvorn," I said, trying to keep my voice from trembling. "As I was saying, I've brought your breakfast."
He said nothing. Just nodded.
"I heard you don't eat much," I added, reaching for the tray again. "But… maybe you can try, just today?"
I held it out to him.
He didn't even glance at it.
Instead, he shoved it away. The entire tray crashed to the floor with a thunderous clang, sending golden plates and delicate pastries flying in all directions. My stomach dropped.
Those were the same damn plates I'd already gotten in trouble for.
I sighed and kneeled down, gathering what was left. Some of the food was still intact. Most of it wasn't.
He backed away as I approached with a salvaged plate in hand, like I was a threat—me, the girl with a black eye and a shaky voice. I kept moving forward until his back met the wall.
"Well," I said with a small, bitter laugh. "Looks like we switched places."
He didn't move.
I softened. "I'll go easy on you. Just eat something, okay?"
Still nothing.
"It's my birthday today," I added, voice quieter now. "And I'm spending it with you, so… the least you can do is follow my instructions, right?"
Something in his expression shifted. His eyes glassed over. For a moment, I thought he might cry.
I sat down on the floor and gestured for him to do the same.
"Come on," I said. "Please."
But instead of sitting, he moved toward me—and before I could react, his entire body slammed into mine. He pinned me down, straddling my waist, and the first punch landed hard on my right cheek.
Pain exploded through my head.
Stars. I was seeing stars.
"Wha—" I tried to scream, but the second punch cut me off.
And then a third.
And a fourth.
I cried out, twisting, trying to shove him off, but he was too strong. My fists pounded weakly against his chest, but they didn't matter. Nothing I did mattered. He was lost in something—rage, grief, madness—I didn't know.
"Please!" I begged, choking on tears, my voice hoarse. "Please stop!"
The blows kept coming.
My ribs, my back, my legs. My arms curled around my head instinctively, but even then, the pain found its way through.
Ten hits. Fourteen. Eighteen.
The world spun and blurred. My ears rang. My nose was bleeding. My limbs screamed in protest. I could barely breathe.
I had to stop this.
With all the strength I had left, I raised my elbow and slammed it into his calf. Hard. He staggered, his body falling partly on top of me, and I managed to shove him off.
I stumbled to my feet, barely able to stand.
"Will… you… stop?" I gasped, holding onto the wall to keep from falling. "Please…"
He stared at me, wide-eyed, like he didn't recognize me—like he didn't even recognize himself.
And then I saw the blood on his knuckles.
My blood.
I didn't have the strength to fight anymore.
So I let myself fall to the floor, everything hurting, everything broken.