The Death of a Tyrant's Concubine

CHAPTER 38 - Intercept

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【𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄】

I didn't dream even once that night.

For the first time since my return, there were no glimpses of past deaths, no agonies from lives I couldn't recall. Every night before this one, sleep had been a torment. A reminder of just how many times I had failed.

I did not know the exact number.

Ryn had only ever given me vague answers. But I was beginning to suspect it was well over a hundred by now.

Yet last night, there was nothing.

I woke with a sharp inhale, my heart pounding in my chest as my eyes darted around the room.

The bed was empty, the blankets tucked over me, and a fire still burned in the hearth, embers crackling softly. Though the man who had held last night was nowhere to be seen.

Of course.

Sylvos never stayed in a concubine's chambers until morning.

Even in my first life, he would leave once his duty was done. Sometimes, he lingered a little longer, speaking with me in the dark. But before the sun could rise, he was gone.

I glanced at the frost creeping over the glass doors of the balcony. There wasn't any time for lazing around. I had to keep an eye on the letter office.

Just as I stood, pulling the thin purple gown tighter around me, a knock came at the door.

I frowned and moved to open it.

A young servant girl stood there, smiling up at me as she presented a tray of breakfast and tea. The scent of warm honey and bread curled into the air between us.

"His Majesty instructed us that you would be awake soon," she said brightly.

My body went rigid.

"Last night?" I asked slowly.

"This morning," she corrected, her smile widening. "He only just left. The Madam is very pleased. She wishes to see you when you're ready."

I could only stare.

Sylvos... had been here? Until morning?

I nodded absently as she entered, setting the tray on the small table near the balcony. She moved about the room calmly, collecting the remnants of last night's untouched snacks, before glancing toward the bed.

"Shall I prepare a bath?" she asked, her eyes flicking to the sheets. "And fresh linens?"

Heat rushed to my face.

"Yes, please."

She nodded and disappeared.

The moment the door shut behind her, I moved swiftly, grabbing the decanter of dark wine and returning to the bed. I tipped it over the sheets, watching as the deep berry stain spread across the fabric like spilled blood.

"What are you doing?"

I jumped at the voice, twisting around. Though the elf remained unseen.

A nervous feeling crawled up my back as my gaze settled on the hearth. Raincatcher still rested on the mantel, its polished blade gleaming in the firelight.

Reluctantly, I stepped forward and lifted it.

The reflection shimmered, revealing Ryn sitting at the bed's edge, one hand lazily inspecting the soiled sheets. His expression was utterly unimpressed.