Chapter 8

ELYRA.

Eventually, I forced myself to calm down.

My chest still felt tight, and my fingers trembled as if they wanted to grip something—anything—and crush it. But I had learned, long before this mansion and its cold walls, how to pull myself back from the edge. Losing control never ended well. Especially not here, in this kind of place.

I decided to go to the kitchen and fix myself something small. After breakfast, though, I didn’t want to see another maid. The thought of crossing paths with any of them made my jaw tighten. I knew myself well enough to admit that if one more sharp comment or mocking look came my way, I might do something I would regret.

I rarely had altercations with people. I avoided them, actually. Silence had always been my shield. But these people—the people here at Radiel's mansion—had found a way to poke at me from every angle since I got here. I'd had enough of the quiet jabs and the direct rude comments—little reminders that I wasn't so welcome here.

I moved through the kitchen carefully, keeping my head down, choosing simple things that wouldn’t have anyone coming to ask me why I chose this instead of that. I settled for bread and tea, settling on the kitchen island as I sipped slowly from the mug of tea before me. When I finally returned to my room, I locked the door behind me and leaned against it for a second, breathing out slowly.

After a few seconds, I moved and sat at the desk by the window.

From there, I could see almost the entire mansion grounds—its perfectly trimmed lawns, stone paths that curved like they were designed for leisure walks and idle thoughts. Everything looked calm and beautiful. It felt unfair that something so lovely could hold so much quiet hostility.

I stared out the window, the silence in the room thick and heavy.

I was already miserable, and the day wasn’t even halfway through. And the worst part? I hadn’t even spent a full day with Radiel yet.

The thought of him alone made my stomach twist.

I scoffed softly. “So this is how it starts,” I thought. “This is the game.”

I had been so bold last night. Too bold, maybe. I had been so sure that two could play whatever game he was trying to start. I had said it with my chin lifted and my voice steady, like I believed every word.

Now, sitting alone in my room, I wondered if I could really hold on to that confidence, because from the moment the day began, it already felt like I was losing.

I pressed my lips together and looked away from the window, my gaze dropping to the polished surface of the desk. My reflection stared back faintly, warped by the light. I looked tired. Older than I should. My eyes held a heaviness I didn’t remember carrying before I came here.

A bitter laugh slipped out of me. Of course this was Radiel’s doing. I was sure of it. He must have been the one who told the maids to treat me this way. To look down on me. To remind me, in a hundred small ways, that I was beneath him. 

He’s trying to humble me, I thought darkly.

The idea settled in my mind and burned there. He wanted to break me down, little by little. There was no shouting, no open insults. Just enough pressure to make me bow my head and accept whatever scraps of respect he decided to offer.

My fingers curled into fists on my lap.

If he thought this was enough to make me bend, he was wrong. Very wrong.

The anger that had been simmering earlier flared up again, hotter this time. It cut through the doubt and pushed my spine straight. I sat up, my shoulders squaring as if Radiel himself stood in front of me.

“Nice try,” I muttered under my breath.

The stakes were too high for me to crumble now. This wasn’t just about pride. It wasn’t even just about him. My father’s face flashed in my mind—tired eyes, forced smiles, the weight he tried so hard to hide from me. The company. Everything he had built. Everything he was fighting to protect.

I couldn’t afford weakness. I wouldn’t afford it.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s too early to give up,” I told myself. “You haven’t even started yet.”

If Radiel wanted a game, then fine. I would play. But I would play smart.

I reached for a notebook on the desk and flipped it open. The blank page stared back at me, waiting. Planning had always been my strength. When things spiraled, I planned. When fear crept in, I wrote it down and turned it into steps.

“What do you want, Elyra?” I whispered to myself.

The answer came easily. I wanted survival. Control. A way out.

I began to jot down thoughts—small, messy notes. Who to avoid. What to observe. What I knew about Radiel so far. His cold tone. His calculating eyes. The confident way he carried himself.

“He thinks I’m predictable,” I said quietly. “That’s his mistake.”

I was just starting to feel steadier, just beginning to see a path forward, when a sharp knock echoed through the room.

My pen froze mid-word.

I slowly lifted my head and stared at the door. My heart thudded once, then again.

Anger bubbled up inside me, slow and thick, wrapping around my ribs. I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. I just watched the door like it might burst open on its own.

Another knock followed, just as controlled as the first.

I stood up, my chair scraping softly against the floor. I kept my hands steady, though my pulse wasn’t. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. A maid, sent to provoke me again? A message? Or worse, Radiel himself.

I stopped inches away from it, my hand hovering over the handle.

“Who is it?” I called out, my voice calm despite everything churning inside me.

Silence answered. I clenched my jaw, my eyes fixed on the wood separating me from whoever waited outside, anger and resolve twisting together in my chest.