Page 31

My nails dig into my palms. If they brand me as a corruption of his domain, the council can punish us both. A flicker of rage stirs in me at how unjust it is. We haven’t harmed anyone, yet they cling to some archaic notion that a human who shares more than chores with a naga is an offense.

As I stand there, uncertain, the door cracks open. I dart behind a broad pillar, peering around to see two scouts exit. They speak in low voices: “—no direct proof, but the rumors?—”

“—the warlord is cagey. We might have to return with official sanction?—”

They move on, footsteps fading. My insides twist. Official sanction suggests a harsher response if they deem Vahziryn guilty of harboring a forbidden relationship. I fight the urge to barge into the hall and defend him. That would only confirm their suspicions. Instead, I slip away, heart pounding.

Night falls quickly, bringing a hush that crackles with unease. I drift to my chamber, each step weighted by the knowledge that tomorrow or the next day, they might tear us apart under some twisted notion of law. The door closes behind me with a hollow thud. My small bed offers cold comfort.

Crouching by the room’s single window, I watch the moon rise over the estate’s walls.

The memories of Vahziryn’s warmth flood back, tightening my throat.

I recall his vow that we’d face this together, but it’s hard to cling to that promise while the council lurks.

The thought of losing him, or seeing him stripped of his lands because of me, gnaws at my mind like a relentless rat.

I press my forehead to the windowsill, breathing in the night air.

A flurry of emotions swirl: longing, fear, anger at a world that wants to crush any bond we share.

My nails rake the sill as I wrestle with my frustration.

If I vanish, maybe they’ll leave him in peace.

But I know he’d blame himself. And part of me refuses to run, unwilling to let them define my fate again.

Eventually, exhaustion claims me, and I slump onto the bed.

Sleep is uneasy, haunted by nightmares of being dragged before a council of sneering naga, bound in chains while Vahziryn watches in powerless fury.

I jolt awake repeatedly, heart racing, until the first rays of dawn creep through my window.

Morning arrives, and the tension in the manor intensifies.

Servants whisper that the scouts plan to finalize their inspection today.

I half-expect them to summon me for further questioning, but the morning passes without confrontation.

I see them fleetingly in a hallway, conferring with each other.

They cast me cold glances yet don’t approach.

The entire estate hangs in a breathless pause, waiting for a verdict.

At midday, Sahrine corners me near the kitchens. “I heard the scouts might depart tomorrow,” she says, voice low. “They claim they found no overt violation, but they remain unconvinced. They’ll file a report to the council.”

A cold pit forms in my stomach. “So it isn’t over.”

She shakes her head. “They want more evidence, I suspect. They might return with greater authority or attempt to intercept you beyond these walls.”

I grip a dish towel, knuckles whitening. “I don’t know how much longer I can live like this, waiting for them to pounce.”

Her expression softens. “Stay close to those who’ll protect you. That’s all I can advise.”

I bow my head, fighting tears I refuse to shed in front of her.

This dread is suffocating me, a reminder of how fragile my place is.

The hours creep by, and dusk finds me in the greenhouse again, seeking solace among the plants.

My hands tremble as I trim dead leaves from a vine, trying to channel my energy into something constructive.

A faint shuffle of scales against stone signals Vahziryn’s arrival. I glance up to see him in the greenhouse doorway. He stands tall, black scales glinting in the lamplight, hair loose around his shoulders. His face is drawn, lines of strain framing his slitted gold eyes.

I lower the shears, heart twisting at his obvious fatigue. “You look exhausted.”

He steps inside, tail coiling behind him. “I’ve been contending with their demands all day. They claim they found no direct proof of wrongdoing, but they remain suspicious.”

I set aside the vine, crossing the greenhouse floor to him. “So they’ll leave?”

He runs a hand through his hair, sighing. “Yes. But they’re filing an official report to the council. They’ll likely return, or worse, the council might summon me. We have a reprieve, not a pardon.”

Fear surges, but I mask it. “What does that mean for us?”

His jaw tightens. “It means we must remain discreet until I figure out a permanent solution. The council’s interest in you is no longer rumor. They want an excuse to brand you as a threat or brand me a heretic.”

I exhale shakily. “How do we fight that?”

He closes the distance, lowering his voice. “By refusing to give them ammunition. For now, we pretend you are just a capable servant. Nothing more.”

Anguish flashes through me. “I know it’s necessary, but it hurts.”

His tail shifts in a slow arc, brushing my calf in a comforting gesture. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice raw with regret. “I hate it, too. But I won’t let them destroy us.”

My heart clenches at the promise in his eyes. Despite the fear, an ember of resolve warms my chest. “Then I’ll endure whatever charade is needed, as long as we remain united.”

He hesitates, tail looping around my leg a fraction tighter, a wordless reassurance. “We will. I vow it.” He glances around the greenhouse, speaking in a low hush. “But for the next few weeks or months, keep your distance in public. If they return, let me handle them. No slip-ups.”

I bite my lip, recalling the easy closeness we once had exploring these plants, the fierce intimacy we shared. Now we must bury it behind a facade of cold politeness. “I understand.”

He studies me, longing and sorrow swirling in his eyes. Then he steps back, tail sliding from my calf. “Until this threat recedes, that’s our only choice.”

A hush settles between us, heavy with unspoken wishes for a life not ruled by archaic laws. My chest aches. “You’ll let me know if anything changes?”

He nods, voice hushed. “Always. Keep faith in that, and in us.”

I watch him leave, a swirl of dread and determination gripping me.

The scouts may depart, but the specter of the council remains.

Threats loom in every corner, waiting to pounce on any sign of our bond.

Yet I feel a flicker of defiance. If they mean to label me tainted property, let them see that I won’t surrender easily.

Returning to the vine, I prune the dead leaves with careful motions. Each snip echoes my internal vow: I refuse to be caged by their laws or used to break the man I care for. One day, we might stand openly, but until then, we’ll navigate the shadows of a domain that punishes forbidden ties.

By the time night covers the estate, the scouts have departed, leaving an uneasy silence in their wake.

I wander to my small room, alone with the knowledge that I remain a target of their suspicion.

As I lie awake, listening to the distant hum of insects and the drip of water from the courtyard fountain, I remind myself that defiance can exist even in hushed corridors.

I will wait, and I will endure. For Vahziryn, for myself, for the fragile, precious connection we built beneath the watchful eyes of a world that insists it must not be.

If the council wants a reason to strike, I won’t hand it to them easily.

And if they come for me, I’ll face them standing, not cowering.

Sleep eventually takes me, but it’s shallow, haunted by images of scaled figures dragging me away and Vahziryn forced to watch.

Yet beneath the fear, determination glows.

We’ve survived the first strike, but the battle is only beginning.

They may label me “tainted,” but I’ll prove there’s more to me than a mere human pet.

And with Vahziryn by my side, I might just weather the storm.