The carriage rolled forward with a gentle lurch, its wheels crunching softly over gravel before settling into a steady rhythm as the horses picked up speed. Inside, the space was warm and faintly perfumed.
The scent of polished wood mixed with something subtler—amber, or dried flowers sealed into the cushions long ago. Thick curtains framed the narrow windows, swaying slightly with each movement, while a dim crystal lamp overhead cast a mellow golden glow that softened every edge.
Euris sat quietly on one side of the carriage, his back straight, his hands folded tightly in his lap as though afraid they might tremble if left unattended. Across from him, Viscount Ethral reclined with effortless grace, one leg crossed over the other, her posture relaxed yet commanding, as though the carriage itself moved at her will.
The faint clatter of hooves and the whisper of night wind filled the spaces between them.
Moonlight slipped through the window beside Euris, and he turned his head slowly, gazing outside. Dark trees blurred past, their silhouettes tall and twisted, branches reaching like skeletal fingers toward the sky.
The forest thinned as they moved farther from the ruins, the oppressive shadows gradually giving way to open stretches of land. Somewhere in the distance, fireflies drifted lazily, their pale lights flickering like wandering stars.
For a moment, Euris allowed himself to breathe.
The tension in his chest loosened just slightly, though his mind remained sharp, alert, every sense strained. He knew better than to relax completely. This carriage, this warmth, this protection—it was all conditional. He was a guest, yes, but also something far more fragile.
Ethral watched him in silence for a time, her gaze lingering on the way the moonlight traced the sharp line of his jaw. The way his golden eyes reflected the pale glow outside.
Cleaned of blood and fear, stripped of the grime of the forest, he looked unreal—like something sculpted rather than born.
Finally, she spoke.
"You've been quiet," she said, her voice smooth, unhurried. "That is understandable, given what you've been through. But can you tell me your name?"
Euris stiffened almost imperceptibly.
Slowly, as if the movement itself required effort, he turned back to face her. His eyes dropped briefly before lifting again, hesitant, uncertain, his expression carefully shaped into something timid and unguarded.
"…Euris," he said softly. "My name is Euris."
Ethral repeated it once, testing the sound. "Euris." The name seemed to settle in the carriage, fitting the space more naturally than expected.
"It suits you," she said after a moment. "Simple and clean."
He nodded faintly, fingers tightening together.
"And… y-yours…?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he feared the answer.
A faint smile curved her lips. "I am Ethral Valencrest," she replied. "Viscount of the marches."
His eyes widened just enough to be convincing. "A… Viscount," he murmured, swallowing hard. "I—I didn't know."
"No," she said calmly. "You wouldn't."
The carriage rocked gently as it turned onto a smoother road, the motion almost soothing. Ethral leaned back slightly, studying him again, her sharp gaze missing nothing.
"Tell me, Euris," she continued, her tone shifting subtly, "how did you end up in Hales Forest? That place devours the unprepared. Even seasoned hunters avoid its deeper paths."
His breath caught. He shook his head slowly, as though the question itself caused pain. "I… I don't know," he said again, his voice trembling just enough. "I remember running in fear. Then… darkness. Everything before that is… empty."
She watched him closely, searching for cracks in his story, for hesitation that went beyond confusion.
But there was none. Only fear and uncertainty.
"…I see," Ethral said at last.
Silence returned, broken only by the sound of the wheels and the horses' steady breathing. The road stretched on, and gradually, the darkness beyond the windows softened. Lanterns appeared at intervals along the roadside, their yellow light glowing warmly, marking the approach to settled land.
Euris noticed it first.
The distant outline of towering white walls rose against the night sky, elegant and imposing even from afar. Soft golden light spilled from countless windows, bathing the estate in a gentle glow that made it seem less like a fortress and more like a dream carved from marble.
His breath hitched. Ethral followed his gaze and smiled faintly.
"We're almost there," she said.
He hesitated, then gathered his courage. "…May I-I…I ask something?" he said. His acting was truly on another level.
She inclined her head. "You may."
"…Why did you buy me?" he asked quietly.
The question lingered in the air, fragile and dangerous.
Ethral did not answer immediately. Instead, she leaned forward slightly, resting her elbow against the carriage wall, her chin propped on her hand. Her eyes gleamed in the lamplight, warm and sharp all at once.
"What do you think?" she asked.
Euris swallowed, his voice barely audible. "…To make me… a servant?"
Her lips curved upward slowly, deliberately.
"Yes," she said. Then, after a pause, she added, her tone dropping into something smoother, more intimate, "A very special kind of servant."
His eyes flickered. "A… s-special… servant?"
She leaned closer, her presence filling the small space between them, her voice lowering into a seductive murmur that sent a strange heat through the air.
"A servant who belongs to me," she said. "Who stays at my side. Who obeys my commands. Who understands that his place… is with me."
His cheeks flushed faintly, and he looked away, his fingers clenching tighter.
"I… I understand," he murmured.
Her gaze lingered on him a moment longer before she leaned back again, satisfied.
The carriage slowed.
Through the window, the gates of the Valencrest manor swung open, revealing a long, lantern-lit path leading toward the estate. The mansion itself loomed ahead—massive yet elegant, its white-painted walls glowing softly under rows of golden lights embedded along its edges. Tall pillars framed the entrance, and carefully manicured gardens flanked the path, their flowers closed for the night but still fragrant in the cool air.
The carriage came to a smooth halt before the front steps. Servants were already waiting.
The door opened, and Ethral stepped out first, her boots touching the stone with practiced grace. She turned and extended a hand toward Euris.
"Come," she said in a slow soft voice.
He hesitated only a second before taking it.
Her grip was steady, reassuring, as she helped him down. The night air was cool against his skin, carrying the scent of flowers and clean stone, so different from the rot and blood of the forest.
As they entered the manor, the grandeur unfolded around him.
The entrance hall soared upward, its ceiling painted with intricate designs, chandeliers hanging like captured constellations. Polished marble floors reflected the golden light, and tall arches led deeper into the estate.
Servants lined the sides, bowing respectfully as Ethral passed, their eyes flicking curiously toward the young man at her side. Whispers followed him.
Ethral guided him toward the central staircase, its banister carved with delicate patterns, when she stopped before a maid standing near the steps.
The maid was young, her figure slim yet curvy beneath a traditional black-and-white uniform, the fabric tailored to accentuate her shape. Her brown hair was neatly tied, a few loose strands framing a pretty, expressive face. Her eyes widened briefly when she saw Euris, a faint flush coloring her cheeks before she lowered her gaze respectfully.
"Prepare the upper room beside mine," Ethral instructed calmly. "See that he is bathed, dressed, and brought to the dining room afterward."
"Yes, my lady," the maid replied quickly.
Ethral turned to Euris. "Follow her. You will do as she says."
He nodded. "…Yes."
The maid led him up the stairs and along a quiet corridor lined with tall windows and elegant tapestries. She stopped before a large door and opened it for him.
Inside, the room was breathtaking.
A wide bed draped in fine linens dominated the space, flanked by polished wooden furniture and a fireplace carved with noble sigils. Soft light glowed from crystal lamps, and a balcony door stood open, curtains fluttering gently in the night breeze.
"This will be your room," the maid said, trying—and failing—to hide her awe. "Please bathe. Your clothes are on the bed. When you're finished, I'll be waiting outside."
She left quietly. Euris stood alone, absorbing it all.
The bathroom was even more luxurious, steam already rising from a wide stone tub filled with warm water. He undressed slowly, stepping in and letting the heat seep into his muscles. The water washed away the last remnants of the forest, of blood and fear, leaving behind only warmth and quiet.
When he emerged, towel wrapped around him, the room felt different—softer, almost unreal.
The clothes laid out on the bed were noble garments, finely tailored, yellowish-white fabric edged with gold. He dressed carefully, the fit perfect, as though made for him.
When he descended again, escorted by the maid, they entered a grand dining room where a long table was already set. Ethral sat at her chair, her eyes lighting up subtly when she saw him.
He froze for a heartbeat, surprised. He was meant to sit with her.
During the meal, servants watched him with open curiosity, impressed by his appearance, while Ethral observed him with unmistakable satisfaction.
Afterward, she rose. "Come," she said simply. "You will accompany me to my room."
And with that, Euris followed, knowing his path forward had been sealed.