My steps grew heavier with each passing moment, the weight of exhaustion dragging me down.

I'd spent the entire night tailoring my uniform to make it fit just right, but the fatigue eating at my bones didn't give me the luxury of rest. I had duties to fulfill—duties I couldn't afford to mess up.

As I trudged through the mansion's dimly lit corridors, my eyelids felt like lead. Every step I took seemed to blur into the next, the shadows warping into weird shapes.

I fought to stay awake, to focus on what I was supposed to be doing. But the deeper I went into the mansion, the more the air seemed to thicken, the silence pressing in on me.

The walls seemed to stretch endlessly, corridors looping back on themselves in a way that made my head spin.

I turned another corner, only to find myself facing yet another identical door. I realized with a jolt that I had no idea where I was.

I had wandered too far into a part of the mansion I had never seen before. Unease twisted in my chest.

"This isn't where I need to be," I muttered under my breath, trying to calm the sudden spike of panic.

I retraced my steps, but each turn I made only seemed to draw me deeper into this unfamiliar section. The air felt colder here, oppressive, heavy with an unsettling silence.

The whole place seemed different—older, darker, as if it held secrets that were meant to stay buried.

I stopped, my breath catching in my throat as some inexplicable tension wrapped around me. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched.

I should turn back. I knew that much. But my curiosity, that relentless itch, urged me to keep going.

And then I saw it.

A hidden door, partially obscured by heavy curtains that matched the rest of the décor. It was so inconspicuous that I almost missed it, but something about it called to me.

The door was different, somehow. I couldn't explain why, but I felt drawn to it.

With hesitant hands, I reached for the handle and pulled. The door creaked open, and a rush of cool air hit my face.

The soft glow of light spilled out, and with it, the hauntingly beautiful sound of a piano's melody.

It was a delicate, sorrowful tune, the kind that reached inside your chest and squeezed. But there was something else—something that made my throat tighten and my eyes burn unexpectedly. The melody reminded me of something I couldn't quite place. Late nights when I was little, maybe? When Father would sit by the window after Mother died, staring out at nothing. That same hollow, aching sound.

I stood frozen for a moment, captivated by the sound. The music, so soft yet so powerful, seemed to seep into every part of me.

I couldn't tear myself away from it. It was like being pulled underwater, the melody clouding my thoughts.

Compelled, I stepped inside, the music guiding me deeper into the room. And that's when I saw him.

Cassius.

He sat before the piano, his fingers dancing across the keys with a fluidity that was almost hypnotic.

His eyes were closed, lost in the music, his expression relaxed in a way I'd never seen before. The sharp edges of his usual demeanor were gone, replaced by something softer, more... human.

The music he played was beautiful, but it was also raw—painful, even.

It was as though he was bleeding all his emotions into each note, showing something deeper than the cold mask he wore.

For a moment, I forgot myself entirely. The tension, the fear, the weight of his usual presence—all of it faded away as I watched him. He was... different. Almost vulnerable.

My breath caught in my throat, and I took a hesitant step forward. My heart raced, but I couldn't look away.

Cassius was like a magnet, drawing me in despite the fear that still lurked in the back of my mind.

But then, in an instant, my foot caught on the edge of a chair, sending it scraping loudly across the floor.

The noise shattered the fragile moment, and his fingers froze on the keys. My body went rigid, my heart leaping into my throat.

Before I could even move to escape, Cassius's eyes snapped open, his gaze locking onto mine. Time seemed to slow as his piercing stare pinned me in place, and my body betrayed me.

I spun around in a panic, intent on fleeing, but in my haste, my foot snagged on the edge of the carpet. I stumbled, crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

"Ah!" I yelped, my face flushing crimson with embarrassment. I scrambled to my hands and knees, desperate to get up, but it felt like every move I made only made things worse.

A voice, low and commanding, stopped me dead in my tracks.

"You've made quite the commotion, Lana."

I froze, my blood running cold. My heart pounded in my chest as I turned toward the sound.

Cassius stood just a few feet away, his presence towering over me. He had moved with a silence that was unsettling, as though he'd materialized from the shadows. His sharp smile twisted into something darker, more amused.

"So," he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery, "did you like what you saw?"

I stiffened, my mouth going dry. I couldn't form the words. I hadn't meant to invade his space, but the words got stuck in my throat, refusing to come out.

His eyes were fixed on me, sharp and knowing, as if he could see through every thought I had.

"I—I didn't mean to..." I faltered, my voice weak, barely a whisper. "I didn't..."

Cassius took a slow step closer, his gaze intense, unnervingly so. My pulse raced, and I had to fight to keep my legs from giving out beneath me.

There was something in the way he looked at me—something that went beyond curiosity. It was as if he was seeing right through me, into places I didn't even know existed.

"No need to panic, Lana," he said softly, his tone somehow more menacing despite the reassurance in his words. "I won't bite...unless, of course, I decide to." He paused, letting his words hang in the air like a threat. "But you should tread more carefully next time, hmmm?"

Something about the way he said 'bite' made my skin crawl. Not in a completely bad way, which was somehow worse.

I swallowed hard, the anxiety clawing at me, choking me. "I...I apologize, Your Grace," I stammered, my voice trembling. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

Cassius didn't move, his gaze unblinking as he regarded me. The amusement was still there, but now it had a darker edge to it—an unspoken warning.

"This time, I'll let it slide," he said casually, though the undertone in his voice was anything but. "But next time, be more cautious. Not every place in this mansion is safe for someone like you."

The way he said 'someone like you' made my stomach twist. What did that mean? Someone like me... what?

I nodded quickly, my face burning with shame. "Of course, Your Grace. Thank you," I whispered, unable to meet his eyes any longer.

Without another word, I turned and fled, the sound of my footsteps echoing down the cold, empty hallway. My heart was still racing, my mind spinning with the weight of what had just happened.

*

Ever since that incident in the hidden room, a heavy, crushing anxiety had taken root in me.

Every time I so much as glimpsed Cassius, whether from across the mansion's grand hallways or from the corner of my eye, my pulse would quicken, my chest would tighten, and my feet would move faster, always trying to avoid him.

I couldn't escape the feeling that his presence always hovered just at the edge of my awareness, like a shadow that never fully disappeared.

It was as if his gaze, even from a distance, weighed on me, and every encounter was like walking on the edge of a cliff.

I couldn't bear the thought of facing him again. Not after what happened. Not after the way he had looked at me.

But then, one day, I was summoned by Madam Veronica. Her voice carried a strange edge to it that sent a fresh wave of dread over me.

"Lana, please take these documents and deliver them to Duke Cassius," she instructed, her words carrying an air of finality.

My stomach dropped. I fought to keep my expression neutral, to hide the storm of anxiety that had just erupted inside me. Madam Veronica had no idea how hard I'd been trying to avoid him.

No idea how much dread surged through me at the mere thought of crossing paths with Cassius.

How could I tell her? How could I explain that just the sight of him made my heart race with terror?

I nodded reluctantly, trying to steady my breath. "Of course, Madam," I replied, forcing calmness into my voice despite the hammering of my heart.

Gripping the documents tightly, I made my way down the corridor leading to Cassius's study. My palms grew sweaty with each step, and the closer I got to the door, the heavier my legs felt. Stopping before it, I hesitated briefly, but the fear of Madam Veronica's reprimand pushed me to raise my hand and knock.

"Wait a moment," came Cassius's cold, clipped voice from inside. I held my breath as the door creaked open, revealing him seated behind his desk, his piercing gaze locking onto mine.

I stepped inside cautiously, praying I could leave as quickly as possible without causing any trouble. "I... I was instructed by Madam Veronica to deliver this to you," I said softly, extending the documents without daring to meet his eyes.

Cassius glanced at me briefly, his expression unreadable. "You again," he muttered, his tone flat yet unsettling.

I nodded quickly, eager to retreat. "Thank you, Your Grace. I'll take my leave," I stammered, turning to leave before my nerves completely unraveled.

But as I moved to exit, my trembling hand accidentally knocked over one of the glass figurines displayed on his desk. It fell with a horrible crash, shattering into countless pieces on the floor.

For a moment, I froze, my face draining of color. "Oh no..." I whispered in panic, dropping to my knees to gather the shards. In my haste, I didn't realize I'd cut my hand. "Ow!"

Cassius's head snapped up at the sound, his face darkening with fury. "What have you done?!" he bellowed, his voice reverberating through the room.

Shaking, I bowed my head low. "I'm so sorry, Your Grace! It was an accident—" My words faltered under the weight of his anger.

He strode toward me, his sharp gaze like a blade. But as his eyes fell on my bleeding hand, his rage wavered, replaced by something harder to read.

Something almost... hungry.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked, his voice lower but still commanding. There was something different in his tone now, something that made my skin prickle.

I glanced down at the crimson streaks on my skin, the sight making my panic worse. "I... I didn't mean to, Duke Valtier," I stuttered, my voice trembling. "I'll clean this up right away! Please forgive me..."

"Stop," he ordered, the single word silencing me instantly.

He crouched in front of me, sweeping the broken shards away with one swift motion. "Don't move," he instructed firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

"But I need to—"

"I said, don't move." His voice was colder now, though there was an undercurrent of something else—something that made my breath catch. Without waiting for my response, he took my injured hand in his, inspecting it closely.

His touch was ice-cold. Unnaturally cold. And the way he stared at the blood... it wasn't normal. It wasn't the way someone should look at a cut.