Surrendered To The Lord Of Sin-Chapter 23: A ride with the monster

The pyre’s light still danced somewhere beyond her window when Lucrezia stumbled back into her chambers, and the night dragged on relentlessly. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

Her skirts were clean already, and now she dressed in a simple night gown of mild blue. The fabric clung softly to her skin, cool against the faint lingering heat of the flames outside.

Though the darkness clawed into the room, she didn’t light a single candle even when the moonlight bled through the window. As expected, the doors were locked and only allowed entrance to her handmaidens whenever necessary.

She sat near the window for the whole day until finally, stiff and utterly drained of color, until finally, she moved when the night seemed to grow deeper.

Lucrezia moved without thinking as if in a dream she couldn’t wake up from, and sank onto the edge of the bed. Her body was still, however inside, something writhed like a storm of grief and disbelief which left her hollow.

Gods, she felt hollow... and a lone tear slipped free from an eye.

The silence pressed against her ears until she thought the night might shatter her mind and ever so often, Lucrezia thought she heard the fire cackle and the faint whimper that Maddie’s used to make when she nudged her for attention.

Or was it the warm voice, the bedtime stories, the gossip from the city, the warm chocolates she brought from town whenever she visited? What of that voice of comfort, the one that always reminded her of how strong she was despite the criticism of her kind?

To others, she was the wolf-blood witch, but to Madelyn... she was her friend. Her only true friend.

A quiet sob escaped her lips before she could prevent it. Now there was nothing, only the still air heavy with the scent of ash.

Lucrezia drew her knees to her chest, bringing her face to her arms. Her throat burned from the screams she had already spent and yet more kept clawing her throat to escape but no sound came.

It felt like time lost its meaning.

When Edhira entered softly and cautiously, as though afraid the sound of the door might shatter her mistress entirely, the first blush of dawn was already breaking across the gray sky.

She carried a tray: bread still warm, honey, and a small jug of watered wine. The clink of the dishes echoed far too loudly in that suffocating quiet.

"Milady," Edhira whispered, bowing low, but even her voice held a tinge of exhaustion. "You must eat."

Though numb, Lucrezia couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty for the young woman who had come to check on her nearly three times now, only to be met each time with the same silent, distant return.

Lucrezia did not lift her head. Her hair, undone and tangled, spilled like brown ink around her shoulders. It was only the faint tremor of her breath that was the only sign that she still lived.

"Milady," she tried again, setting the tray down on the small table near the bed. "It’s been all night. Please, you must eat. You haven’t eaten since the afternoon. You’ll make yourself ill."

Something in Lucrezia’s chest twisted painfully at the word ’ill’’, as though she wasn’t already rotting from the inside out.

"If there’s anything you want me to do for you, I’ll be two steps away," Edhira said, hoping it would at least get a reaction from the young mistress.

But it didn’t.

Knowing fully well she’ll get nothing in response, Edhira lowered her gaze and obeyed the untold command, backing toward the door.

Her eyes held genuine pity for the Lady, and she couldn’t help but feel sad also. Before she slipped out, she paused, watching her mistress’s still form, the way she sat unmoving as if carved from marble.

The young maid’s eyes shone with sympathy she dared not speak. She knew she should leave, and her presence wouldn’t change the fact that the mistress was emotionally damaged but she couldn’t help but question if this was also part of her plan.

She had heard so much about the second Princess of Veximoor, and this trait... this wasn’t among. Yet at the same time, it felt so real she couldn’t judge.

Realizing now was the imperfect time to reason a very inconsiderate thought, Edhira took in a deep breath before leaving.

And when the door closed, silence reclaimed the room once more. The tray remained untouched as time wore away. The bread cooled and the wine lost its warmth.

Hours crawled by until the light outside shifted, dulled, brightened, and still Lucrezia did not move. At some point, she rose from the bed only when her handmaidens returned to dress her for the morning’s journey.

They were surprised, shocked at least, to find her in the position they last saw her. Although they moved with precision and duty, there was still lingering pity for their poor mistress.

They moved around her carefully, like attendants tending to a corpse. The air smelled faintly of lavender and rosemary water along with polished silver as they began their work.

They bathed her hands, brushed her hair, and dressed her as supposed. She wore something thick to keep her warm, a fur-necked line cloak woven in intricate embroideries sweeping the heels of her feet. Her brown hair was woven into her usual crown, sharing her soft features.

Lucrezia allowed them to move her limbs as though she were made of porcelain. Her eyes remained fixed on nothing and her lips parted but were voiceless.

When Edhira fastened the last clasp at her throat, she paused. "You look... beautiful, Milady."

It was a lie. Lucrezia looked spectral like a ghost in royal silk. But how dare they make such a comment to their mistress?

Lucrezia’s knees trembled when she rose from the stool, but she did not falter. She turned toward the mirror, a tall, gilded one by the window, and for a heartbeat, she didn’t recognize the reflection that stared back.

The woman in the glass was pale as bone, her eyes rimmed red, her expression void of all softness. There was a crack somewhere inside her, and it showed not on her skin, but in the way her shoulders no longer bent beneath grief. They straightened beneath something else. Something shocked.

Beneath the cloak was a blend of red and silver dress, the skirt elaborated in flowers from the hem to the lining at her ankle. The bodice—pushing out her full breast— was decorated in the design, and her elbow-length glove exposed her arms to view.

With her hair held tightly by pins and ivory, neck claded in expensive pearl necklaces, real pearls of great worth, and perfectly sized heels, all fitting the compliment of the fashion.

Although Lucrezia would’ve preferred the convenience of her boots. Back then, she never wore heels. She walked barefoot or wore the boots Madelyn brought her.

And her heart shattered at the thought of that name.

Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but she forced them away. She had cried the entire night, but crying never seemed to be just enough.

A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. "Milady?" A soft voice came through from the other end, interrupting the busy hands. "A message from His Reign,"

But Lucrezia never answered. She hadn’t even spoken a single word since yesterday, tasted water, or eaten any food.

Edhira had begged her countless times, but her effort had been fruitless. Although the makeup made her stand out, she looked sick within. Like a body lost without a soul.

Edhira looked between the silent Lady—who didn’t look like she was going to respond or acknowledge the presence anytime soon—and the door. After much contemplation, "Come in," she said.

The door opened with a soft creak, revealing a woman who looked in her late twenties. As she neared, Lucrezia recognized her for a fleeting moment as the one from the dining yesterday—her auburn hair tied into a rough bun, approaching with a small trunk resting on both hands.

With her head still lowered, "His Reign instructs you to put on these, Milady. The apparel is inside the box."

At the mention of his reign, her eyes widened—not in awe, but in the brittle terror of someone who had only just begun to understand the depth of the world she had been thrust into, and fell on the plain brown trunk.

For a moment, she didn’t feel the urge to question but didn’t he mention wearing something warm?

"Leave it on the bed," Edhira instructed, following the urgent movement of the auburn-haired, looking desperate to disappear. It was obvious she was only frightened, and she wondered for the nth time what horrors—perhaps every eye present—had witnessed.

At that moment, Lucrezia wanted to believe she might not have gone through almost half of what these people had passed through. The lingering fear, terror, pain... it all seemed to point to the hands of one creature— the one known as her husband.

She had never felt this feeling—such tremor and fear for someone apart from her father, until yesterday. Until last night. Her poor self seemed to shiver at the thought of his brutality when that blade cut through the neck of...

Lucrezia shut her eyes, taking in a deep breath to stabilize the rapid rate of her beating heart and indirectly fighting the burn of tears at the back of her eyes.

The thought she was never going to see her again only seemed to reopen that shallowness buried deep within her chest, clawing its way like a poison in her entire body.

And truly this time, Lucrezia felt fear—real fear. When she looked at Madelyn’s... severed body, for a fleeting moment, she thought about her mother.

The body lying cold and dead, slain in a manner so ruthless that no one could ever deserve—that was when the feeling came. Madelyn had been so close to her more than her mother ever did, not by choice but a must.

Her mother didn’t abort or kill the baby when she wasn’t due for two years still. Instead, she let her stay, hoping and believing, even when the world already saw the coming of the child as cursed.

Anyone in her shoes would’ve shunned the child to death, but her mother didn’t. But the cost of that love led her into the laughing stock of the Feywn’s and to House Bathory.

To her entire clan.

Same with Madelyn. She laid her life down to save her but it ended at a cost. A cost she’ll leave her life feeling the guilt of her death, and one person to look after.

As much as Lucrezia felt a pang of ache in her heart to admit; she was indeed cursed. But wallowing in silence wouldn’t only take her mother’s life but also destroy her before five months had elapsed.