Ch 006: Vile Consorts

[ Aysel ] 

Every morning since I arrived in Emberglade, I wake up expecting to be somewhere else.

Back in Lumiville. In my narrow room. Waiting for Valerie or one of my step-sisters to kick my door open and dump cold water over me, waking me up for a day of tedious chores and maltreatment.

But this morning, when my eyes open, warm sunlight brushes my face instead.

Soft sheets cradle my body in a wide bed and the walls do not close in on me.

My room in the packhouse.

I blink slowly, letting myself wake properly, and my mind drifts back to the night before.

The Lycan King sparing me. The relief that had crashed through me so hard it left me shaking.

I remember rushing back here, tearing out of my dress, and crawling into bed like someone who had barely escaped a storm. I remember smiling into my pillow, my chest light for the first time in years.

That same smile touches my lips now as I stare at the ceiling, recalling that I have a whole week to prepare myself before meeting him again. 

Phew. Thank heavens! 

At least, I’ve got some time to pretend just for a little while, that I belong here.

Still, as much as this place scares the shit out of me, I know that being thrown out of here wouldn’t mean freedom. It would mean something far worse. And I refuse to let that happen.

I will survive this place no matter what. I have to.

But not today. Today, I let myself be happy.

I slip out of bed and hurry to the window, pulling the curtains wide. The garden below explodes into color and movement. Birds sing from the trees. The scent of flowers and fresh leaves drifts up, filling my lungs and clearing my head in a way nothing ever has before.

“Ah. Paradise.” Temporary, maybe, but still paradise.

Servants move quietly through the garden, tending flowers, trimming shrubs, and plucking ripe fruit from low branches. 

For a few precious moments, I am just a girl at a window, enjoying the morning.

Eventually, I head into the bathroom for a quick shower. When I return, I open the wardrobe properly this time.

“Woah…” An awed gasp slips out of my lips. 

Rows of dresses in soft fabrics and rich colors stare back at me. Yesterday, I’d been super nervous, and hadn’t noticed the details. 

They’re all beautiful. And they’re all mine.

The thought feels unreal, almost like theft. But until whatever is coming finally arrives, I intend to enjoy it.

I choose a simple cream dress with thin straps and a soft skirt that brushes my knees. It slips easily over my skin.

I oil and brush my hair, pulling it into a loose ponytail, then turn to the mirror and spin once.

Ugh. Imagine Valerie and my precious step-sisters seeing me like this.

They’d lose their minds.

I laugh softly at the thought.

A knock interrupts me.

“Lady Aysel,” a gentle voice calls. “It’s us. Ria and Poppy. Your handmaidens.”

“Oh…” I step away from the mirror. “Come in.”

The door opens and the two girls enter, bowing politely. I recognize them immediately as the same girls who prepared me and escorted me to see the Lycan King yesterday.

At the thought of the Lycan King again, my body quivers. 

My mind slips back to the way his fingers had brushed over my nipple, as though he knew exactly what he was doing to me. 

The way those sharp, dark eyes had held mine without blinking, stripping me bare and setting something molten alight deep inside me, making me wish, shamefully, that he’d claimed me right then. That he’d given me a taste of him. 

My breath stutters, heat coiling low in my belly. I shake my head sharply, forcing the image away.

Get a grip, Aysel.

“We have a message from Consort Freya and Consort Raquel,” Ria says. “They ask that you join them for breakfast… and shopping.”

I freeze at once. 

Shopping? With Consort Freya and Consort Raquel?

The same women who had looked at me like dirt yesterday?

Disbelief turns quickly into suspicion. My chest clenches hard.

What if this is a trap?

Back in Lumiville, I’d experienced it too many times. Girls who smiled sweetly, invited you out, then cornered you and beat you bloody over some man who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

Men who lusted after me despite calling me cursed, then blamed me for their desire.

So, is that what this is? A punishment for dating to capture the Lycan King’s attention? 

But I know better than to refuse their requests. Turning them down would only invite trouble, and I have already learned how dangerous unwanted attention can be in this place.

Whatever they want, I cannot afford to offend them.

So I simply nod.

And I follow Ria and Poppy down the long corridors of the packhouse, until we reach an open courtyard.

Consort Freya and Consort Raquel sit across from each other at an elegant table, chatting and laughing softly, porcelain cups in hand. Breakfast is laid out neatly between them. 

The moment they notice me, the laughter dies. Their gaze assesses me slowly.

Ria and Poppy bow and retreat, leaving me alone under their gaze.

Unlike yesterday, there’s no open glares or barely veiled hostility. Today, pleasant smiles curve their lips as they sip their tea, dressed in immaculate, flowing, expensive gowns that cling to them perfectly. They look every inch the powerful, cherished consorts of a king.

And then there is me. In my simple dress.

For a brief, agonizing moment, I feel their gazes drift down my attire, lingering just long enough for self-consciousness to consume me whole. 

I suddenly feel painfully underdressed and out of place, as though the stone beneath me might swallow me whole if I wished hard enough. Instant regret dances in my stomach at my simple choice to outfit. 

But to my surprise, neither of them comments on it.

“Don’t just stand there, sweetie,” one of them lightly. “Come join us. Raquel, pour her some tea.”

Every instinct in me screams that this is anything but friendly. Still, I walk forward and sit, folding my hands neatly in my lap.

The table is filled with food—golden croissants, warm toast, fruit tarts glazed with honey. The smell hits me all at once.

And that’s when I realize how hungry I am.

My traitorous stomach chooses that exact moment to betray me. It growls loudly.

Heat floods my face instantly. 

At this point, I deserve an award for self-sabotage.

Freya and Raquel lean toward each other, sharing a quiet, amused laugh before turning back to me.

“Oh, dear,” Raquel says, clicking her tongue. “You must not eat things like this where you come from. No wonder you look so malnourished.”

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes as she adds sweetly, “ “Go on. Eat.”

I scoff in my head. Of course, I knew it. This is anything but friendly. They’re trying to remind me of my place here.

With food? Tck. How petty. 

I lift my chin, forcing the hunger down. “I’m alright. I’ll have my maids prepare something for me later. Thank you.”

For a heartbeat, displeasure flickers across their faces.

“Very well,” Raquel shrugs. “If you insist.”

Then, she stands. “Shall we skip breakfast and go straight to shopping?”

Before I can come up with an excuse, they’re already moving.

“Come on, dear. Let’s go.” Freya says briskly.

With no other choice, I follow them into the waiting car. As we pull away from the packhouse, I try my best to loosen the unease coiling tightly in my stomach.

Maybe this is good. Maybe if I cooperate, they’ll see I’m harmless and stop the pettiness.

Hopefully.

We arrive at the boutique in minutes. The moment we step inside, attendants swarm Freya and Raquel, grinning from ear to ear, eager to meet every of their requests.

No one spares me a second glance.

First, I’m grateful. Then I glance down at my simple dressing, and at the growing pile of clothes in my arms.

Oh. Right.

I don’t look like a guest. I look like a freaking maid.

Ah, fuck.

By the time we reach the counter, my arms are full, my shoulders burning.

“OMG, Aysel?”

I turn my head toward the source of the familiar, awed voice calling my name.

A sharp gasp escapes my lips when I see who it is.

Maelis. Dressed in rich fabrics, beautiful in a way that looks nothing like the woman I’d last seen. If I weren’t good at remembering faces, I might have doubted myself.

“Maelis?” I call, disbelief thick in my voice.

“Aysel!” She’s already rushing toward me, her face lit up with a bright, relieved smile. She reaches me in seconds and pulls me into a tight hug, like we’re old friends reunited after years apart.

And to my own surprise, I hug her back just as fiercely.

“Oh, thank heavens,” she breathes. “I honestly thought we’d never cross paths again.”

She pulls back, then pauses.

Her eyes drop to the pile of clothes stacked in my arms. Her brows knit together. Slowly, her gaze shifts past me, to Freya and Raquel.

Before she can say anything, Freya speaks, irritation sharp in her voice.

“Come drop the clothes at the counter already, Aysel. This is no time for chit-chat.”

Heat floods my face. Embarrassment burns, followed quickly by anger, hot in my gut. I clamp it down with effort.

Of all moments. She had to speak to me like this now, right in front of Maelis?

Gods, if I could claw her eyes out, I would. But sadly, I can’t. 

Maelis lets out a short, disbelieving scoff. She looks back at me, staring like I’ve completely lost my mind.

“Are you really letting your fellow consorts treat you this way?”

Raquel bristles instantly, snapping. “Excuse me? Who the fuck are you supposed to be?”

My stomach tightens. The last thing I want is a scene.

I lean closer to Maelis and whisper urgently, “Listen, Maelis, I’m just trying to get on their good side—”

I don’t get to finish.

Maelis suddenly grabs the entire heap of clothes from my arms and strides forward. 

Freya and Raquel freeze, eyes widening as she dumps the clothes straight into their hands.

“Here.” She says sharply.

They open their mouths to retort, but she cuts them off before a word can leave their lips.

“And for your information,” Maelis continues coldly, “I’ll be taking this straight to the Lycan King. Let’s hear what he thinks about his consorts treating a new consort like a fucking maid!”

Every color instantly drains off the duo’s faces.