Kalythra watched as Valaia exited the chamber, the servant’s defiance still lingering in the air like a challenge. Her smirk turned to a narrowed gaze as she pushed herself off the bed, her body aching but her mind sharper than ever. Slowly, she made her way to her closet, pulling the doors open to reveal a shimmering bronze mirror nestled among silks and jewels.

With a wave of her hand over its surface, the mirror glowed faintly before coming alive. “Show me that servant’s past,” Kalythra commanded, her voice laced with curiosity and venom.

The mirror pulsed, its surface rippling before it revealed Valaia’s face. She was masked, her sharp eyes piercing through the fabric. The scene unfolded—Valaia in the shadows, striking down noblemen one by one, each desperate and terrified. The chaos of blades and blood.

Kalythra tilted her head, a cruel smirk tugging at her lips. “Imbeciles,” she muttered, her tone dripping with disdain. “You thought you could rid yourselves of me? Pathetic. Watch how I turn the tables and send her to kill you instead.” Her laughter echoed softly in the chamber, chilling and full of malice.

The mirror shifted, now showing fragments of Valaia’s love life. A woman appeared—dark-haired, with a tender gaze reserved only for Valaia. The pair shared moments of intimacy and romance.

Kalythra’s expression darkened, her smirk twisting into something more sinister. “How touching,” she said mockingly, her golden eyes gleaming with malice. “A weakness. And I do so enjoy exploiting weaknesses.”

With a wave of her hand, the image in the mirror shifted again, showing the present life of Valaia’s lover. The woman sat in a sunlit courtyard, a smile on her face as she bit into a bright red apple. Kalythra’s eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a cruel grin. She snapped her fingers.

The woman gasped, clutching her throat as the apple fell from her hand. She struggled, her face turning pale as she choked, her life slipping away. Moments later, she collapsed, lifeless, onto the grass.

Kalythra leaned back, her laugh resonating with wicked delight. “Now you’re all mine,” she whispered, her voice triumphant.

She waved her hand again; the mirror went dark as she turned away. With one last glance toward the door where Valaia had exited, she murmured to herself, “Let’s see how long you can resist me when there’s no one left to ground you to your old life.”

*

Valaia woke up to a relentless pounding in her head, her temples throbbing with an ache that made her groan softly. She sat up, rubbing her temples as fragments of indistinct dreams lingered, teasing her mind but slipping away before she could grasp them.

“What now?” she muttered, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. “Why does it hurt?”

Pushing the discomfort aside, she dressed quickly and made her way to the servant's quarters. The routine helped to steady her, though something gnawed at the edge of her consciousness—a faint sense of deja vu she couldn’t shake.

One of the older servants approached her, bowing slightly. “The princess has requested tea. You are to bring it to her chambers immediately.”

Valaia nodded, taking the tray of tea and pastries. As she walked down the corridor toward Kalythra’s chambers, a strange sensation washed over her. Her steps faltered, clutching the tray tightly.

“Why does it feel like I’ve done this a thousand times?” she murmured, staring down at the steaming teapot. The weight of the moment pressed on her, but she couldn’t understand why.

Taking a deep breath, she shook off the feeling and continued to the chamber. She knocked lightly before entering, her heart suddenly hammering in her chest as her eyes fell upon the princess.

Kalythra was seated at the table, dressed in flowing silks that highlighted her regal presence. Her golden eyes gleamed with a familiar, predatory amusement, and her lips curled into a smirk as Valaia approached.

Setting the tray down carefully, Valaia’s hands trembled slightly, though she wasn’t sure why. The princess tilted her head, watching her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

“Kneel,” Kalythra commanded, her voice smooth and authoritative.

Valaia hesitated for only a moment before lowering herself to her knees, unable to resist the command. It wasn’t fear that drove her obedience, but something deeper—something she couldn’t yet name.

“Rub my feet,” she ordered, extending one delicate foot toward her.

Without a word, Valaia obeyed, her hands moving with uncharacteristic care as she worked to ease the tension from the princess’s feet. The action felt strangely natural, as if her hands already knew the outline of the princess’s skin.

Kalythra sighed contentedly, her smirk growing. “Good servant,” she purred, leaning back in her chair. “You’re learning your place.”

As Valaia continued, her thoughts churned. Why does this feel so familiar?

Why is my heart racing as if I’m supposed to do this?

She glanced up briefly, meeting Kalythra’s eyes. The princess’s gaze burned into her, and she felt an unspoken truth linger in the air—one she wasn’t ready to confront.

The longer her hands glided over the smooth, warm skin of the princess’s legs, the more a heat coiled deep within her. It was subtle at first, a flicker of warmth, but it grew with every passing moment, until it became an undeniable ache at her core.

Unconsciously, she leaned forward, pressing her lips softly against the princess’s calf. The taste of her skin sent a shiver through her, and before she could stop herself, she began to pepper gentle kisses along the length of her leg.

The kisses deepened, her lips lingering longer with each press, and soon she was sucking lightly at the princess’s skin, leaving faint marks as her desire grew. Her breath came in shallow gasps, the heat in her chest and lower belly now almost unbearable.

Kalythra tilted her head back slightly, watching Valaia with an amused, predatory smirk. Her golden eyes glinted with delight as she flicked her tongue over her lips, savouring the sight of her servant losing control.

“How eager you are,” Kalythra murmured, her voice a sultry purr.

The princess shifted her position, pressing her foot higher against Valaia’s trembling body. The tip of her toes grazed against Valaia’s core, still hidden beneath the fabric of her servant’s clothes, but the teasing pressure was enough to elicit a sharp gasp from Valaia.

Kalythra smirked wider, rubbing her foot deliberately against Valaia’s core, applying just enough pressure to tease but not satisfy. “Is this what you wanted, little servant?” she asked, her tone mocking yet dripping with seduction. “Tell me.”

Valaia shuddered, her hands gripping the princess’s thighs as she tried to stifle a moan. Her lips trembled as she struggled to find words, her mind a haze of pleasure and confusion.

“I...” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The princess laughed softly. “What a treasure you are,” she murmured. “So willing to serve, yet so helpless before me. Do you see now? You belong to me, Alia.”

The words sent a jolt through Valaia, but her body betrayed her, leaning into the teasing movements of Kalythra’s foot. Her breaths grew heavier, and the ache within her became a consuming fire as she fought against the pull of the princess’s dominance.