𝔅𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔫

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶

𝕶𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖆'𝖘 𝖕𝖔𝖛

Walking downstairs, I raise my arms over my head, stretching them. A breathy yawn escapes my lips as the muscles in my arms stretch. Walking down the rug-covered steps of the large staircase that leads down to the main dining area, I see Rhysand and some of the knights gathered, enjoying breakfast around a table large enough to serve twenty. An assortment of foods from fruits and cakes to meats sit atop the table, ready to be enjoyed. The sight makes my mouth water.

When Rhysand sees me coming down the large staircase, he smiles at me, back to his usual happy self as if last night never happened. I don't know if he is doing that for me or himself, but whatever the reason, I am grateful.

"And how was your sleep?" Rhysand smiles. "The best I ever had," I answer, walking over to the large table covered in food. I grab a teapot and pour some coffee into a teacup before bringing the glass teacup to my lips. I was never allowed coffee at Kholmance, but since I've been at Hogwarts, I've developed a love for the drink, so much so that if I don't have at least one cup in the morning, it's difficult for me to function properly.

Grabbing a plate, I pile on some bacon and ham as well as a singular chocolate chip muffin. "I see you like meat," a familiar voice jokes. I glare at Kier as he walks down one of the large staircases, stretching his arms above him. His long, black hair falls in soft waves over his forehead and ears as usual. Though the rest of the men in Tom Riddle's group keep their hair kempt, Keir allows his to fall naturally around his face, never gelling it back. I quite like that about him. Glancing down, I notice that he isn't wearing anything other than a pair of pajama pants. "Do you not own a shirt?" I ask, raising a brow.

"Not when you're around," he smiles, and I roll my eyes, though I can't help the smile that makes its way onto my face. Kier and his inappropriateness are refreshing. Unlike the other knights, he speaks his mind without reserve. I find that interesting.

Pouring some milk into a glass, I take a seat at the end of the table. Observing those who sit at the table, I notice that Abraxas and Tom are not eating or even in the dining room. I make a note of that. Abraxas is Tom's right hand. If anyone were to be missing from breakfast with Tom Riddle, it would be him.

They're speaking about something. Or planning something.

I don't like that. Especially after the mind games he tried to play last night. Did he honestly think I had feelings for him? He must have been out of his mind. The only thing that he has going for him is his looks, and they are greatly shadowed by his arrogance and psychotic tendencies.

If he wasn't such a cruel bastard with such baleful and insidious intentions, then perhaps his plan to exploit me would have worked.

Euphoria is the perpetual anguish that plagues the psyche of anyone unfortunate enough to fall for the charisma of Tom Riddle. Like so many others, maybe I would have fallen for his manipulation. Perhaps he would have been able to break down the walls of my mind and heart by using his beauty and charisma. Perhaps he would have been able to use his tactics of manipulation to get me to fall for him, allowing him to manipulate my mind and heart into doing whatever he desired.