Valencia Esmeray

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 - III : The Unspoken Desire

Morning sunlight filtered through the heavy velvet curtains of the dining room, casting soft shadows on the richly adorned table where Valencia sat. The room was quiet except for the occasional clink of silverware as her butler, Henry, served her breakfast with meticulous care. His movements were smooth and practiced, a reflection of his years of service to her. The air smelled of fresh bread, roasted meats, and the faint aroma of honeyed tea.

Valencia, dressed in a sleek black gown, stared down at her plate, though her mind was far from the food in front of her. Her thoughts were still tangled in the events of the previous night— the royal party, the drunken kiss, and Cassian. But this morning, something deeper stirred within her, something that had been buried beneath centuries of immortality.

Henry noticed the distant look in her eyes as he placed a steaming cup of tea beside her plate. Clearing his throat, he ventured cautiously, “Is everything to your liking this morning, Miss Esmeray?”

Valencia blinked, her sharp gaze lifting to meet his, as if she had just remembered where she was. “It’s fine, Henry,” she said softly, taking a delicate sip of her tea. There was a pause as she set the cup down, her fingers lingering on the handle. She tilted her head slightly, as though a thought had just come to her, something she hadn’t spoken of in a very long time.

“Henry,” she began, her voice casual but carrying the weight of centuries. “Do you know what I’ve never had in my life before, even though I am a 206-year-old immortal?”

Henry, who had been preparing to serve the next course, paused mid-step. He was used to Valencia’s cryptic musings, but this question caught him off guard. He furrowed his brow, considering the possibilities. He knew of her wealth, her power, her endless pursuits of knowledge and beauty. What could she possibly have never experienced?

“Never had, Miss?” he repeated thoughtfully. “Could it be... contentment?” he guessed, his eyes flickering with uncertainty.

Valencia gave a soft, amused laugh, shaking her head. “No, Henry. Not contentment.”

He tried again. “Love, perhaps?”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a half-smile. “I’ve had enough of that to last several lifetimes.”

Henry hesitated, unsure of what to guess next. After a few moments, he shook his head in defeat. “I’m afraid I don’t know, Miss.”

Valencia leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting to the window as she spoke, her tone contemplative. “Children,” she said simply. “I’ve never had children.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the room fell completely silent. The maids who had been quietly attending to their duties nearby froze, exchanging puzzled glances. It wasn’t the sort of topic their mistress usually brought up, especially with such nonchalance. What could possibly have brought this on?

Henry blinked, clearly taken aback. He had served Valencia for decades, seen her go through countless phases and pursuits, but this...this was new.

“Children, Miss Esmeray?” he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “I didn’t realize...”

“Of course not,” Valencia interrupted smoothly, her voice cold and distant once more. “Why would you? I’ve never desired them before.” She sighed, her eyes narrowing as she gazed at the untouched food on her plate. “But now...things are different.”

The maids continued to glance at each other, unsure of what to make of their mistress’s sudden interest in motherhood. It was an odd, almost unsettling idea, especially coming from someone as detached as Valencia Esmeray. Yet, there was a certain resolve in her voice that left no room for doubt. She wasn’t merely musing—she was serious.

“I think,” she continued after a pause, “I would like to experience it. Parenthood. Raising a child.” Her fingers drummed lightly against the table, as though she was already planning her next move. “Yes... I will adopt.”

Henry, ever the dutiful servant, nodded despite his surprise. “I see, Miss Esmeray. And where do you plan to...?”

“I know of a place,” Valencia said, cutting him off. She stood up, her decision made. “Prepare the car. We leave shortly.”

Henry gave a quick bow, understanding that the conversation was over, and quickly made his way out of the room to ready the vehicle. The maids, still bewildered by the turn of events, busied themselves clearing the table as Valencia rose to her feet and left the dining room without another word.

As she stepped into the hallway, her heels clicking softly against the marble floors, her thoughts drifted back to the events of the previous night. The kiss, the prince’s shocked expression, the whispers of the nobles—it was all a blur now. But beneath the embarrassment of her drunken mistake, there was a darker thought that lingered. Cassian.

Cassian had once been everything to her, or at least he believed he was. But to Valencia, he had been nothing more than a slave. A devoted, obsessive man who had lost himself in his desire for her. At first, his devotion had been flattering, even useful. But as time went on, it became suffocating. His obsession grew to the point where it consumed him, making him sick when she wasn’t near. He’d become erratic, unstable, and eventually... dangerous.

Valencia had told him to leave. She had tried to push him away, for his sake and her own. But he had refused. He couldn’t bear to be apart from her, and she couldn’t bear to deal with him any longer. So, she had done the only thing she could—she ended his life. Temporarily, of course. It was the only way to rid herself of his madness until she could find the strength to deal with him again.

She would bring him back, yes. But not yet. Not until she was ready.

The car was waiting for her outside the mansion, its sleek black exterior gleaming in the morning light. Henry stood by the door, holding it open for her as she approached. Valencia stepped inside, her thoughts still on Cassian as the car began to move.

As they drove through the winding roads leading out of the city, her mind shifted from the past to the future. The adoption process would be simple enough. She had wealth, influence, and an ageless beauty that no one would question. There were plenty of children in the orphanages—too many, in fact. She would find one, perhaps two, to raise as her own.

It wasn’t that she desired love from them, or even companionship. It was the experience of it that she sought—the act of creating and molding a life. Something different from the eternal, stagnant existence she had lived for centuries. A new challenge.

As the car approached the tall gates of the orphanage, Valencia’s gaze hardened. She didn’t care about the judgment of others, the whispers of the maids, or even the lingering ghost of Cassian.

She was Valencia Esmeray, and she always got what she wanted.