Ariana's eyes shifted to them, devoid of any warmth. Her lips moved into a sweet smile as she slightly tilted her head, her eyebrow raising softly. Their eyes widened in shock.
Did she just…?
Ariana moved her fingers, slowly examining them. Softly, she finally shifted her gaze back to them and opened her mouth, mouthing softly,
"Oh, really?"
Her lips moved slowly, though no sound escaped. The maid's face paled slightly as she struggled to maintain her composure, but her legs gave way, and she collapsed to the floor her hands clasping toothed as he begged trembling.
S…she had heard… them. They were all doomed…
Ariana's eyes stretched wide. Was this the kind of fear Zavren inspired?
Just who was this man to make people tremble like this?
What didn't she know?
She moved on, ignoring them as she continued toward her door.
She could hear thier silent plea behind her, but the maid's reaction alone had already revealed enough—Zavren was truly feared here her father was not joking when he warned them about him.
Her chest tightened slightly as the word 'twins' echoed in her mind.
Did Zavren have someone he was planning to marry?
Then why had he arranged their wedding?
Why had he… made her stay?
He already had a child with someone else—probably someone better. A princess,. And she… she was just a poor woman who happened to meet him during a one-night stand at a local motel.
She pushed the large door open, her hands clutching the fabric of her gown as she tightened her fists—
as if that could ease the pain in her chest.
But it only grew worse.
She sank onto the edge of the bed, her lips trembling slightly as her hands moved to her tummy, gently caressing it with a soft, protective touch.
She had made up her mind.
She needed to escape.
"I will protect my child at all costs," she said inwardly to herself, caressing her tummy gently—even though there was no sign of a bump yet.
She stood slowly, as she walked.
"If I'm going to escape… maybe I should explore the castle first."
Her eyes fell on a pen and a book resting on the nearby table. For some reason she couldn't explain, she picked them up. A slow smile curved her lips, and she swayed her body lightly in a little dance moving her hips to each side like a chicken who had just layed its egg—something she used to do back at home whenever she figured something out. She called it her lucky dance. It always seemed to bring her fortune.
"You didn't look this joyous at the ball, sweetheart."
A deep voice shattered the calm silence.
Ariana froze.
Her pupils dilated as her face burned in embarrassment.
'Oh heavens' at that point she wished the ground will swallow her whole.
Her mouth fell open in shock.
H-how did he…?
Zavren sat by her window.
Her room wasn't on the ground floor. It wasn't even close. Anyone who dared sit on that ledge was tempting death itself. And yet… there he was. His legs were crossed, the wind blowing strands of his hair wildly around his face like he was the king of death itself.
And then—he moved.
"I had no idea little Snowflake was a dancer too" His voice so low his amusement lingered.
Ariana's heart thundered in her chest her face flushing deep.
What i..is he doing here?
He stepped down from the window and walked toward her. She stood frozen, her body refusing to move, her pulse pounding.
"Why that look? Do I dim your joy, you had been dancing so happily, what changed darling?" he asked huskily, stopping in front of her.
The maid's earlier words came crashing back to her in a wave, making her heart lurch.
Zavren's sharp gaze swept over her. Something was off. He could feel it.
Then, to his surprise, Ariana dipped into a soft curtsy.
'Strange'
Zavren stiffened.
"Snowflake… what's with the attitude?" he asked quietly.
Ariana said nothing. Instead, she picked up the pen and opened the book. The only sound in the room was the gentle scratch of ink against paper.
…Your Majesty, my apologies for the late reply. I had not expected to see you…
Zavren's eyes darkened as he read.
"Snowflake… what's wrong?" he asked, his voice suddenly raw and dangerously low.
Ariana's body trembled. She stepped back slightly, her hands shaking as she wrote again.
Zavren watched her, noting the elegance of her cursive handwriting. It was the kind of script typically taught in high society—certainly not something he expected from someone of her background. That small detail made him pause.
She hesitated for a moment, then slowly turned the book toward him.
…Are you engaged?..
Zavren was silent, his eyes fixed on the words she had written. Then slowly, his gaze lifted and locked with hers.
"Tell me, Aria… where did you hear this from?"
A cold chill ran down her spine.
Ariana immediately regretted writing it. She had been so overwhelmed by emotion that she hadn't thought it through. Quickly, she pulled the book back toward herself and began scribbling in haste.
…Your Highness, you don't have to bother… Please, forget about this…
But it was too late.
Zavren had already read it.
Before she could move again, his hand was under her chin, lifting it gently but firmly. His grey eyes glinted with something dark—deadly—as he studied her.
"Tell me who you heard that from…" he said softly, pausing as a slow, wicked smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"I don't mind bringing only their heads. You just have to do the deed by pointing. That sounds more interesting, don't you think?"
D..Did he just say he would bring the heads, meaning he would kill them and just bring their heads for her to point at? But why did he not just answer her? Does this mean it was true?
Just as she began to turn the book to write once more, Zavren moved toward the door.
Ariana's heart leapt.
Without thinking, she rushed forward—her hand tugging lightly at his garment just as he reached for the door.
He stopped.
Turning slowly, his eyes landed on hers. The pleading in her gaze—the raw fear—held him still.
She quickly grabbed the pen again, her fingers trembling slightly as she bit her lower lip. Her eyes were focused, her hand moving swiftly across the page. For some reason, that alone stirred something deep within him… something primal.
His wolf growled low.
..I was just curious. No one said anything. Please, don't be angry…
Zavren read the words.
Then he laughed—a low, cold chuckle that sliced through the air.
Ariana's breath caught.
"Angry?" he echoed, his voice calm and chilling. "Oh, darling… there's a big difference between being angry and being bored. I'm simply bored. And this"—his gaze lingered on her—"this is starting to sound quite interesting."
He turned away from the door and walked back into the room.
Ariana exhaled quietly in relief. The last thing she wanted was to see blood spilled because of her. She had already seen more than enough.
Zavren sat on the edge of her bed, his legs crossed elegantly.
"I'll be leaving tomorrow," he said casually.
To his surprise, Ariana's face lit up with a wide smile.
He blinked.
She smiled—genuinely.
What the…?
"Come here," he said, his voice sharp with curiosity.
Ariana's lips parted slightly in alarm, but inside, her mind danced with glee at the earlier news.
"Oh, Ariana… your plan is going smoother than you thought. Just hold it in… oh yes…"
She nearly smiled again but bit her lip instead to stop herself.
Zavren's mouth opened slightly, then closed.
That spark in her eyes—he wasn't imagining it.
She walked slowly toward him, stopping just inches away.
"Closer," he said.
Her eyes widened a fraction before he gently pulled her to him.
Now, she stood between his legs, his hands resting on her waist.
Her heart thundered in her chest.
"Tell me, Ariana," he murmured, voice low but menacingly deep, "what made you so… excited?"
She looked away quickly.
"Is it because I'm leaving… sweetheart?"
Ariana shook her head quickly.
But it was too late.
Zavren's lips curled into a sinful grin.
"Planning to escape?"