LILY MEETS ASHER

Lily’s eyes fluttered open to the soft light of morning filtering through the curtains. She lay in a bed she didn’t recognize, in a room that was elegant yet unfamiliar. The walls were adorned with tapestries, and the air held a scent of lavender and old wood.

Her mind was a fog, memories of the previous night elusive and fragmented. She tried to sit up, her head spinning slightly as she did. The room was quiet, save for the distant sound of birdsong and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

As she gathered her bearings, the door creaked open, and a kind-faced woman entered, carrying a tray with a steaming teapot and a cup.

"Good morning miss," the maid greeted with a cautious smile. "I hope you slept well."

Lily's brows furrowed and her eyes blinked, trying to place the woman’s face. “I… I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I don’t remember how I got here.” "Where am I? How did I get here?" Her voice was a mix of fear and the remnants of a dream she couldn't quite remember.

The maid hesitated, her eyes darting to the floor before meeting Lily's gaze. "You were brought here last night," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "By Lord Asher."

"Lord Asher?" Lily echoed, the name stirring a distant memory of danger and dark eyes filled with concern. Flashes of the night before began to return—the broken door, the clash of swords, Asher’s strong arms carrying her to safety.

The maid nodded, setting the tray on a nearby table.

Lily took the cup, her hands steadying as the warmth seeped into her palms. “Thank you,” she said, her mind still racing. “What happened after… after he brought me here?”

The woman sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes kind. “You were exhausted and fainted. Lord Asher was injured, but he’s alright. He made sure you were cared for before he attended to anything else.”

Lily sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through her. “He did?” she asked, a mix of gratitude and disbelief in her voice.

“Yes,” the woman nodded. “He’s been asking about you since dawn. He cares a great deal, it seems.”

Lily’s cheeks flushed with a mixture of emotions—relief, embarrassment, and a budding sense of connection to Asher. She was safe, cared for, and it was all because of him.

“I need to thank him,” she said, more  to the woman.

The maid looked terrified ."Yes, but please, I shouldn't speak of him," she murmured, a tremble in her voice, and you should never try seeing him for he is never seen, no one has seen him till now. It's quiet impossible for the royal princesses only , we are just maids.

"What do you mean by maids"?Lily gives a surprising look

"Yes" you are chosen to be his maid. And saying this the maid departed,and then she keeps her maid uniform."Wear this and come, there's lots of work to do"

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The maid, with a quick glance back at Lily, hurried out of the room. Once in the hallway, she leaned close to a group of fellow servants, her voice a hushed whisper.

"Did you hear? The new girl in the guestroom, she's been brought here as a... as a blood bank for His Highness," she murmured, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and intrigue.

The other servants gasped, their whispers growing like a rising wind. "A blood bank? Are you sure?" one asked, her hands wringing the cloth she held.

"Yes, I heard it from the commander's own lips when I went to call him for the meeting," the maid replied, nodding solemnly. "She's to be kept here, under lock and key, for whenever His Highness requires... you know."

The servants exchanged uneasy glances, the reality of their empire's dark secrets settling in like a shadow. "Poor thing," another servant sighed. "To be used like that, and so far from home."

The maid shook her head, her expression one of pity. "We mustn't speak of this," she cautioned. "Walls have ears, and the punishment for gossip is severe."

With that, the group dispersed, each servant carrying the weight of the secret and the knowledge of Lily's fate within the Azenkial Empire. Meanwhile, Lily remained in the guestroom, unaware of the whispers and the role she was yet to play in the grand designs of the empire.

......................................

Lily descended the grand staircase of the Azenkial Empire hall, her eyes wide with wonder. The walls were adorned with majestic paintings, each telling a story of the empire's glorious past. The architecture was a marvel, with high vaulted ceilings and intricate carvings that spoke of skilled artisans.

As she entered the vast kitchen, a hush fell over the room. The maids, who were bustling about just moments ago, now stood still, their faces etched with tension. Lily caught snippets of their hushed tones, "...trapped by Lord Asher," "...will die giving blood to him every day." Her heart skipped a beat.

Curiosity piqued, Lily approached one of the maids. "Excuse me," she said gently, "I couldn't help but overhear. What do you mean by 'trapped by Lord Asher'?"

The maid glanced around nervously before leaning in. "Miss, it's said that Lord Asher, our savior, demands blood . And no one has ever seen him. He's like a ghost, a shadow that haunts these halls."

Lily's mind raced. The person who had saved her life, this Lord Asher, could he really be so dangerous? Fear mingled with her curiosity. She remembered the old man in the library, his voice grave as he spoke of Lord Asher.

Shaking off her unease, Lily donned an apron and set to work. She moved through the kitchen, cooking and sweeping, her thoughts never straying far from the enigmatic Lord Asher.

...........

The kitchen maids huddled together, their eyes darting nervously toward the door. One of them, an older woman with gnarled hands, leaned in and whispered, "I've seen him, you know. Lord Asher."

Lily's breath caught. "You've seen him? But they say no one has."

The maid nodded. "He comes at night, when the moon is high. His footsteps are silent, like a shadow gliding across the floor. His eyes..." She shuddered. "His eyes are as cold as ice, piercing through your very soul."

Another maid chimed in, her voice trembling. "He demands our blood, child. Not just any blood, but the life force itself. We give willingly, for he saved us from the plague that swept through the empire."

"But why?" Lily's curiosity burned. "Why would he need our blood?"

The older maid's gaze turned distant. "They say he's cursed, bound by ancient magic. His existence sustains the empire, keeps it thriving. But at a cost."

Lily's mind raced. The old man in the library had warned her, but she hadn't truly understood. "And what happens to those who give their blood?"

"They wither," the maid whispered. "Their youth drains away, their vitality fading. Until one day, they become mere husks, their life force consumed."

Lily clenched her fists. "And you all willingly sacrifice yourselves?"

"We have no choice," the maid said. "He is our salvation and our doom."

"The Wine Festival," one began, her eyes wide with fear, "it's not what it seems."

Lily leaned in, her heart pounding. "What do you mean?"

"The red wine," another maid interjected, "it's not grape, it's... it's blood."

Lily's eyes widened in horror. "Blood?"

"Yes," the first maid continued. "Every year, maids are chosen as bloodbanks. We stand in line, trembling as Lord Asher's commander inspects us."

"And then?" Lily's voice was barely audible.

"If you're lucky," the maid said, "you're taken to Lord Asher's room. If not, you're sent to the rooms of the royals—old men and women. And sometimes, very rarely, to Lord Asher's brother."

"What happens there?" Lily asked, dreading the answer.

The maids exchanged glances. "If you please them, you're spared. If not..." The maid's voice trailed off, her expression grim.

Lily felt a chill run down her spine. "They... they slaughter you?"

The maids nodded solemnly. "Yes. And if you're fortunate, the royals might just let you live."

Lily staggered back, her mind reeling from the dark truth. She had heard tales of the empire's cruelty, but this was beyond anything she could have imagined. Her hands shook as she clutched the edge of the table for support.

"How can this be?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"It's the way of the empire," a maid said, her eyes filled with resignation. "The blood sustains them, gives them power."

Lily's heart raced as the desire to flee the Azenkial Empire's dark clutches consumed her. She turned to the maid, her voice urgent. "Is there a way out? Can I escape this place?"

The maid looked at Lily with sorrowful eyes. "Escape? There's no escape, child. The empire's reach is far and wide. Lord Asher... he has eyes everywhere."

"But there must be a way," Lily insisted, her hands clenched in determination.

The maid shook her head. "Even if you managed to slip past the guards, to evade the watchful eyes of the empire, Lord Asher would find you. He always does."

Lily's resolve wavered, but the spark of hope still flickered within her. "And if he catches me, will I see his face? Will I know the man who haunts my every step?"

"No one sees Lord Asher and lives to tell the tale," the maid whispered. "His face remains a mystery, shrouded in shadow. To look upon him is to gaze into the abyss."

A chill ran down Lily's spine. The thought of being so close to freedom, only to be pulled back into the depths of despair, was terrifying. Yet, the unknown face of Lord Asher haunted her, a puzzle she yearned to solve.

"I must try," Lily said, more to herself than to the maid. "I cannot live my life in chains, fearing the unseen."

The maid reached out, placing a gentle hand on Lily's shoulder. "Then be careful, child. The path to freedom is fraught with peril, and the price of failure is steep."

As Lily retreated to her quarters, her mind was ablaze with plans of escape. She knew the risks, the almost certain doom that awaited her should she fail. But the fire of rebellion had been lit, and she would not let it be extinguished—not by fear, not by Lord Asher, not by the empire itself.

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Lily's footsteps echoed through the empty corridors as she wandered, lost in the labyrinthine expanse of the Azenkial Empire's halls. "I should have turned left at the tapestry, or was it right at the armor?" she muttered to herself, her brow furrowed in confusion.

The vastness of the place overwhelmed her; every corner seemed to lead to another endless hallway. Determined to find her way, she took a hesitant step toward a less-traveled path, one that seemed untouched by the daily bustle of the empire's servants.

As she ventured deeper, the air grew colder, and the silence pressed in around her. She came to a stop before a door unlike any she had seen before. It towered above her, its wood dark and imposing, the intricate carvings on its surface telling tales of power and mystery.

Lily reached out, her fingers tracing the strange symbols etched into the wood. "This must lead somewhere important," she whispered, a mix of fear and curiosity in her voice.

With a deep breath, she pushed the door open. It creaked ominously, revealing a room shrouded in shadows. Lily stepped inside, her heart pounding. This was Lord Asher's room,(but she didn't knew that)the heart of the empire, and the source of all the chilling tales she had heard.

The room was vast, the walls lined with books and strange artifacts. In the center stood a desk, papers scattered across its surface, and a chair turned away from her. Lily's gaze was drawn to a painting that hung above the fireplace, a portrait of a figure with eyes that seemed to follow her every move.

Lily knew she should leave, that lingering in this place was dangerous, but her feet remained rooted to the spot. She had so many questions, and the answers felt just within reach.

...................................

Lord Asher was in his pool, the moon casting a pale light across the room. He could sense her—the girl who had unwittingly stumbled into his world. Lily, her name was a whisper in the darkness, a promise of something he hadn’t felt in centuries.

He closed his eyes, taking in the scent of her—a mix of fear and determination. It was intoxicating, a fragrance that stirred the depths of his being. A small smile played on his lips as he thought of her courage, her spirit. “She doesn’t know what she’s walked into,” he mused to himself.

He stood by the edge of the pool, the water still and dark as the night itself. He heard her before he saw her—the soft rustle of fabric, the hesitant footsteps approaching. He turned just in time to see Lily, her eyes wide with alarm, as she lost her footing on the curved path.

Time seemed to slow as she fell, a silent plea in her eyes. Without a thought, he stepped forward, catching her in his arms. She clung to him, her grip fierce, her breaths coming in short gasps. "I've got you," he murmured, and bit the soft part of her neck with his fangs, though she did not know him, not truly.

Lily looked up at him, tears in her eyes from the pain, her savior and her villain in the darkness, unaware that he was the very Lord Asher she sought to understand. "S-stop it," she whispered, her voice trembling.

He carried her effortlessly, moving through the shadows to his chamber. The door swung open at his approach, and he laid her gently upon the cushioned divan. "You're safe now," he assured her, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

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