At last, the brunette replied, "You are now our master's wife," anxiously adjusting her apron. "You have to always seem your best. It's... anticipated. The others nodded sombrely, their features a mix of sympathy and terror. Izora held herself more, the truth weighing down her chest. It had nothing whatsoever about her. It has to do with him. Her appearance mirrored back on him. She was only another item in this golden cage. She muttered, "I'm sorry." "I have nothing else." The tall maid shook her head fast, her expression gentle. "You don't have to apologize to us, my lady." With two fingers, she grabbed a basic white shirt and some jeans from Izora's baggage, as though worried the fabric could break at her touch. She said, gently, "Please wear these for now." "I shall go straight forward to advise the master that... suitable arrangements must be made." She bowed once more, excused herself, and rushed from the room with quick, silent strides, not waiting for a reply. Fo
The door opened with a cold click.Izora turned from the mirror instinctively, her heart jumping into her throat.Kaiser Eirian stepped in first, flanked by Enoch Alessi—silent as ever, a pale shadow in a black suit.Her breath caught.She still had on the plain white blouse and pants. Her hair was wet and disheveled after a shower she had taken hours ago in an effort at cleanliness once more. She appeared like a stain in an art gallery, not like the splendor of the space.Kaiser said nothing at first. Just stared.And then, with the most indifferent voice in the world, he said:“She looks ugly.”Izora froze.Not even an insult. Just a fact. Like he was commenting on the weather.Her throat tightened. Heat rose to her face, but she didn’t look down. Didn’t let herself flinch. Her fists tightly closed at her sides. “But that's not your fault,” he said, as though that would make things better. “You ought to have a haircut. And a proper stylist.”Izora said nothing. Her voice had abandon
Enoch walked Izora across the great hall of the mansion, his footfall softly echoing on the marble tiles; the late evening's thick quiet drowned them. From the salon, the aroma of lavender still lingered weakly, mixing with the fresh, crisp linen of the big coat he had put over her shoulders earlier. It was far too large—swallowing her slender frame—but in a manner that startled her, it was warm and reassuring. Enoch silently as always grabbed for the handle when they halted at her bedroom door. But Izora pivoted, her fingers curling on the coat's lapels just before he could go. She muttered, "Wait."He stopped, peering across his shoulder.She eased the coat off her shoulders with a little, nearly shy motion. She folded it carefully and held it out to him, the smooth cloth murmuring on her skin. "You might need this back," she advised.Enoch grinned, a slow curving mouth that hardly showed teeth. He nodded, grabbed the coat, brushed a little lint off the sleeve, then turned."Goodn
Early light slanted through Izora's bedroom's big windows, creating pale golden lines over the ivory walls. Distance, money, and layers of marble and security systems muffled the faint hum of the city beyond the high walls. Izora reclined at the brink of her velvet couch, her robe drenched elegantly around her. Made of ivory silk with subdued silver embroidery close to the cuffs, it was soft and elegant. She was supposed to be gifted. Like everything in this place—too soft, too flawless, too costly to touch without regard for shattering. Her bare feet pushed against the cool floor; for a time she just listened—to the silence, to the weight of her breath, to the awareness that this was now her life.Third day Still, she was not fit for this place. There was a knock disturbing the silence. "My lady," a quiet maid said with a hushed voice. "Time is running out." Pulling the ivory silk robe with subdued silver embroidery shimmered when it caught the light tighter around her figure. He
The east wing's silk curtains let the morning sun bleed softly, creating lovely patterns across the marble floor. Izora stood at her bedroom window, the cold polished floor touching her bare feet. The mansion was silent, far too quiet, the kind of quietness that made her skin tingle. With her fingers around the cool porcelain handle of her teacup, the pungent herbal smell filled her nose. It didn’t comfort her. Nothing has happened these days. Pulling the sky-blue garment over her head, she moved carefully. The fabric was thin, nearly painful to the touch, like the memory of someone brushing by you without apologies. She moved and it softly adhered to her skin and murmured about her legs. Though none of that existed here, the colour brought her images of calm waves and open sky. There was no horizon at this spot. Her hair hung free down her back, black waves like shadows, and she slid her feet into soft white flats. Not even a piece of jewelry. Not loud. Just her and the silent ec
The invitation came at dusk.Well—“invitation” wasn’t the word for it. It was more of a summons.A soft knock came through the door while Izora was in her room, carelessly rubbing the bottom of her sleeve. The quiet girl with ash-blonde hair and sad eyes spoke up. "Mr. Eirian would like you to be in the dining hall," she said in a low voice. “Dinner is served.”Izora didn’t know what she expected.Maybe a quiet meal with a few staff members, something light. Not… this.When she arrived, the grand dining room stretched before her like something out of a royal banquet. The chandelier above dripped with light, casting golden rays across a table that felt almost theatrical in size. It could seat thirty people—forty, even. And at the very end of it, like a ruler on a lonely throne, sat Kaiser.He didn’t stand.He didn’t need to.He sat, perfectly composed in a black buttoned-down shirt, his sleeves rolled up neatly to the elbow. No tie tonight. Just open power wrapped in quiet confidence.
Long shadows from the sun sank below the horizon across the estate grounds. Izora stood before the full-length mirror in her room, fingers quivering slightly as she changed the fabric of her outfit. They had most definitely delivered as the maid had promised to make her look her best tonight. The light pink mermaid gown embraced her curves, the silky silk glistening under the low light. At the rear, just below her shoulders, a big, delicate bow tie caught the light like a mirror reflecting her fragile condition. It was way too large for someone like her, lovely and costly. She put her hair up in a soft bun with curls pinned just above her neck. The rest of her hair fell in soft waves. She felt out of place in her skin because of the difference between how beautiful the dress was and how scared she was. It felt like she was being dressed for a place she didn't belong. Not for a party. Not for this life. The door squeaked open, and Enoch walked in. As he looked around the room, his s
As the black Phantom excused me, the White Phantom directed Izora down the marble steps, and the city skyline sparkled like a jeweled crown. Above them, the moon cut glittering pathways across the reflecting pool's water. Lanterns dotting the path danced across Izora's light-pink gown in golden glory.Though tonight it felt like armour, it was the kind of clothes that should have felt like a warm hug. They strolled up to the large wrought-iron gates of the Savoy Estate, where a collection of elegant black cars already waited. Men in tuxedos shined cigars under the elaborate arches, clutched crystal flutes, and polished guns. Women in emerald and ruby robes passed, laughing floating on the mild breeze. Kaiser moved forward, a living silhouette of quiet authority in midnight-blue velvet, and the guests went silent. Even the chandeliers seemed to darken in respect when he reached a white-gloved hand to Izora. Izora dropped her hand into his. His cool, comforting fingertips She raised he
Back at the Office – East Wing Surveillance RoomThrough the tinted glass, the men watched Kaiser carry Izora like a prize claimed in battle. Silent for a beat, the tension in the room shifted from surprise to something murkier.Otis whistled low, propping his legs casually on the table's edge strewn with surveillance feeds and files. “I think I’m starting to like the boss’s wife,” he said, grinning. “Girl’s got fire.”Claude didn’t look away from the screen, his dark eyes narrowed. “The boss is changing because of that girl,” he muttered. “I don’t like the sound of it.”Otis kicked his foot once in amusement. “And how’s that any of your business? That’s his wife you’re calling ‘that girl,’ remember?”Claude scoffed. “A wife for two months, and one’s almost up. Don’t romanticize it.”Otis tilted his head. “You think he’s gonna let her go in a month?” He smirked. “He said he wouldn’t release her until everything is ‘solved.’ You think that’ll wrap up with a bow in four weeks?”Enoch sa
The huge trees framing the mansion hummed with the wind outside, their leaves brushing against stone walls like restless murmurs. Spring had at last released the grip of winter, and sunshine sloppily poured through Izora's bedroom's tall windows, bathing the velvet drapes in golden warmth over the polished marble floor. Still, a hollow frost hung on her bones despite their modest beauty.Izora stood at the balcony door, her reflection blurred in the glass. Her skin, once pale and drawn, had taken on a soft glow again. A few pounds had returned to her frame; her cheeks were fuller, her collarbone less stark, her curves no longer hidden beneath layers of fatigue. She had healed, at least physically.But her soul—her soul still hovered in limbo.“It’s almost a month now,” she whispered, her breath fogging the glass slightly. “Does he not want me to play his wife anymore?”She turned from the window, securely encircling her waist with the satin ribbon of her robe. Under the correct light,
Claude turned his head.Otis looked up.Kaiser didn’t blink.“She signed her name next to mine.” He lifted his gaze, and his gray eyes were dark, storm-churned. “They branded her as my kin. That makes her bait. And the target.”“And you plan to just keep her locked in the mansion forever?” Claude asked quietly.Kaiser looked down at the crown etched on the screen. Acid-burned. Split in two.“No,” he said.“I plan to make sure no one lives long enough to try touching her.”A sharp silence fell again, heavier this time.Otis’s finger twitched against the tablet.Claude raised a brow. “That sounds personal.”Kaiser didn’t respond. But the look in his eyes was answer enough.Personal didn’t even begin to cover it.---**Back at the mansion**Even though it hadn't rained in hours, the air still felt heavy and cool like it did. Izora sat on the edge of her bed with a wool throw around her shoulders. Her breath made the windows in her room slightly foggy. The silk robe she had worn was now t
The air smelt sterile, antiseptic hanging thickly mixing with the muffled hum of medical equipment. The low lighting creates shadows on the ivory walls from which the monitor's reflection blinks red and green in constant rhythm.But then—the monitor's tone shifted. Two rapid beeps broke through the hush like gunfire.All four turned at once.Kaiser stirred.His throat opened to a low, guttural groan. His fingers quitched next to the immaculate white sheet, nails delicately brushing the mattress's edge. Although the boom was hardly discernible, Izora may as well have heard thunder. "Kaiser? Her voice was a whisper, shaking as she hurried to be by his side. Her silk robe hung on her body, moist at the neck with sweat, and she realised she was still barefoot. Her heart hurt because it was hammering so fiercely. Every bit of her felt stretched, like a violin string just about breaking. Blinking gently, he fluttered on pale skin. His eyes—still that sharp, stormy gray beneath a haze of pa
The rain had slowed, but thunder still grumbled across the night sky like a warning that refused to die down.Izora stood frozen by the open window, her breath fogging the cold glass. The blood-drawn "B" stared back at her like a mocking whisper, daring her to look deeper.Enoch was already barking orders through a comm on his wrist. “Lock the east wing. Sweep for intruders. No one gets out. No one gets in.”His usual calm was cracked—just slightly—but Izora could feel it. The mansion, once suffocatingly quiet, now buzzed with hidden movement. Men in dark suits swept through the hallways, guns drawn, voices clipped.She reached up and pulled the velvet curtain across the bloodstained window. Her hands were shaking again."What does 'B' mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.Enoch turned, his pale blue eyes calculating. “It’s a message.”She raised a brow. “I gathered that.”“It could mean many things,” he replied curtly, walking back toward the breached wall safe. “Could
A sharp gasp sliced through the air as Kaiser stumbled forward, his hand clutching his left arm. The fine fabric of his black tailored shirt darkened with blood, and the rich scent of it hit Izora’s nose before the sight fully registered. A second later, his legs gave out beneath him.“Kaiser!” Izora shrieked.His body collapsed to the marble floor of the great hall, his fall sounding like a gunshot across the estate. Her bare feet skidded slightly on the glossy floor as she sank to her knees and ran towards him. The once-controlled man now looked human. Pale is it. precarious. As he battled the agony, his jaw tightened; nevertheless, she could sense something was off in his eyes.Something deeper than the wound.“Kaiser,” she whispered, reaching for his face. “Kaiser, what happened? You said it was nothing—”He was not able to talk though. His breaths were short bursts, and his brow already glistened with sweat. Izora murmured, "oh No," her heart thumping against her ribs. " Where th
The door shut with a weight that echoed too loud in the stillness.Izora didn’t move.Kaiser stood there, hardly inside the room, his breathing low and harsh, as if he struggled to remain calm. Blood hung on his skin like battle paint, shimmering in spots down his arms, absorbing into the hem of his shirt. Certain of it had dried and cracked at the knuckles' curvature.He was terrifying in that moment—not because of the blood, but because of the silence.She had expected shouting. A sharp command. Even rage.But he said nothing.His gray eyes locked onto hers, but they weren’t searching—they were measuring. As if trying to decide who she was now that she had seen this version of him.Izora sat motionless on the velvet couch, her breath caught somewhere between her throat and chest. When her voice did show up at last, it was little above a whisper.“…What happened?”No answer.His look stayed the same, but his jaw tightened—just enough for her to feel.“Is it yours?” she asked, softer
Not loud. Not angry. But something in the way he said it made her stomach twist.Izora looked up at him, guilt painting her features. “I just didn’t want people to think she still had a place beside you. I thought... you wanted them to believe we were real.”His arms tightened slightly around her.And for a long moment, he didn’t answer.Then, finally, he whispered, “You did what a wife would do.”Her breath caught.It wasn’t praise.It wasn’t punishment either.It was something else entirely.Something dangerously close to approval.Half-expecting, half-hoping, Izora was still waiting for Kaiser to drop her now they were alone. Her fingers hung uneasily close to his chest, unsure whether she should continue to cling on or wriggle to the floor. Rather than releasing her, though, he changed his grip slightly one arm under her legs, the other around her rear, and began to walk once more.Her eyes widened. “What… what are you doing?”“You look tired,” he replied smoothly, his tone unread
Izora lowered her head slightly, her voice soft and clear. “Greetings, Your Highness.”Peter Eirian blinked, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. He turned to his son, His eyes narrowed in imitation contempt. “You did not tell her, did you?” He said, the words more of a statement than a query.Kaiser didn’t respond.Peter exhaled through his nose, a short huff that carried both annoyance and affection. Without warning, he slapped his son on the back—not hard, but firm enough that Kaiser’s shoulders barely moved under the tailored cut of his suit.“She’s greeting me like we’re still in the bloody Victorian era,” Peter muttered. “We don’t bow and scrape anymore. And you—'" With a smile that lessened the chill in his gaze only a degree, he turned back at Izora. “You're not really obliged to be so courteous. Enough of that for a lifetime has gone by”. Izora gave a little, reluctant smile, but her heart skipped beats in her chest. Peter looked at her a second more. Then his