I arrive ten minutes late. Not dramatically. Not loudly. Just… precisely when I meant to. Not because I was careless. I am never careless. But because time is a mortal obsession, and I enjoy reminding them who truly commands it.
The high priest met me at the entrance, eyes wide, plastering on the kind of strained delight one wears for a wolf sniffing the door. Sweaty. Nervous. Overcompensating. What are you hiding, little toad? I didn't bother with a greeting. Just gestured for him to walk, hands in my pockets as I followed lazily, eyes roaming over the walls like a bored tourist. No sigils of power. No anchoring charms. Not a temple. A stage. A polished box dressed up as holiness. How fitting.
And then we reached the center of the room.
Her.
Chained to a marble pillar like a painting nailed to a wall. Beautiful. Displayed. Not free. For the briefest second, I hated the sight of it. White ceremonial robes. Tall. Poised. Not trembling. Not crying. Just standing. Watching. I stopped. Tilted my head.
She was beautiful, yes. Hair like fire. Skin kissed by candlelight. A body that begged poetry. But that wasn't what made me pause. Her eyes. She wasn't afraid. Not curious. Not hopeful. Just aware.
The priest cleared his throat, already swelling with his own voice. "My lord, this is Anastasia. She is the one we have chosen for sacrifice. She—"
I waved him off. "I'm not here for your dramatics. She's here. I'm here. Let's not drag this out."
He faltered, then bowed himself out with a simpering smile. Good riddance. I took a few slow steps forward, boots tapping against the stone. I didn't speak yet. Just looked. She didn't flinch. Calculating. Watching me the same way I was watching her. Not impressed. Not moved. Not playing.
I smiled. "So, this is it?" I said lightly. "The grand prize? The jewel of the temple?" I leaned in slightly. "I was expecting a little more… enthusiasm."
She blinked. Slowly. "Enthusiasm?" Her voice was calm. Cold. Measured. "Why would I be enthusiastic? I've done this before. A thousand times. You may think you're different, but you're not."
Sharp tongue. No heat behind it. No performance.She's not trying to survive me. She's already decided she will. I laughed quietly, circling her like a cat with no appetite."Fascinating. Most mortals beg. Flatter. A few even try seduction. You, though…" I tilted my head. "You're just enduring."
She didn't bother to follow me with her eyes. Kept looking straight ahead. "I'm not here for your entertainment," she said. "I belong to you. That's the arrangement. But don't expect me to pretend I enjoy it."
Not resigned. Not hopeless. Just… finished.That's worse. That's much worse. "You've done this before," I said, stepping back into her line of sight. "How many times?"
She stayed silent. I studied her posture, her deliberate stillness, the faint shimmer beneath her skin. Magic soaked into her bones. All twelve gods had touched her. But she wasn't marked by devotion. She was marked by survival.
"You've made a life out of this, haven't you?" My voice dropped softer. "Giving people what they think they want. Pretending to be what they need."
Her lips twitched. Almost a smile. "I don't pretend," she said. "I give them what they're paying for. I know the difference."
That wasn't bitterness. That was knowledge. Unflinching. She's been trained into a mirror, not a person. "You're not broken," I said before I could stop myself. The words slipped out. I hadn't meant to say that. Gods don't slip. I don't slip. That unsettled me. She didn't react.
"That's what bothers me," I muttered. "You should be shattered. A puppet. A shell. But you're not. You're intact."
I tilted my head. "Who taught you how to bleed without a sound?"
Her brow arched. "Disappointed?"
I grinned. "Not yet. You might surprise me."
With a flick of my fingers, the chains snapped and fell to the ground like dead snakes. She stepped away from the pillar, rolling her wrist, rubbing the skin where the iron had pressed. Then she looked at me.
"Thank you."
I blinked. Gratitude? Actual, unscripted gratitude? "You're thanking me for unchaining you?" I scoffed theatrically. "Not for claiming you? Not for sparing your life? No declarations of awe?"
She shrugged. "I didn't expect kindness. Even small ones deserve notice."
For a moment, I just stared. Then smirked. "I didn't do it for your gratitude, darling. I did it because you're mine now." I extended a hand, fingers splayed in exaggerated flourish. "Come. My realm awaits."
She took it. Steady. No resistance. No awe.Just acceptance.
In a blink, we stood at the heart of my realm. Sky bleeding red, violet, gold. Ground shifting like a living dream. Chaos spun into beauty. She didn't flinch. A tree grew upside down, roots tangled in clouds. Nothing obeyed logic here. Except me.
She looked around, calm as ever. "It's beautiful," she said. "But it doesn't change anything."
No awe. No performance. Just fact. I watched her. Waiting. Nothing. "I see you're not easily impressed," I muttered.
She shrugged. "I'm here because I have to be. It's not about your realm." Then her eyes locked on mine. Unblinking. "I know what you want. And it doesn't change a thing. You can play this like a game if you want…" Her voice was flat. Clear. "…But I'm just passing through."
I stared. No tantrum. No smirk. Just something unfamiliar flickering inside me. My smile came slower this time. Less smug. More curious."You think you've got me figured out?"
"I don't need to figure you out," she said. "You want something. I'm not here to deny you." Her chin lifted. Slightly. "But don't expect me to fall in line the way you think I will."
No fear. No false hope. No act. She wasn't here to win. She was here to survive. She wasn't playing at all. And that's going to be a problem.