Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The morning bell rang, echoing through stone and staircases. Ciana stood in front of the small basin, washing her face with cold water, trying to erase the nightmare from her skin. But the dream lingered—like smoke on her clothes. She had barely slept after waking from it.

Lea noticed and casually said, “Rough night?” she asked, stretching out from bed.

Ciana hesitated. “You ever feel like a dream is more than a dream?”. Lea blinked, “If it’s about the Duke again, maybe it’s a sign you should stay far away.” Ciana gave a tired smile, but said nothing more, she just calmly stared at her reflection in the water while lost in thoughts again.

A knock came at the door.

Another servant girl peeked in. “Ciana, the Lady of the Mansion wants you, Immediately.”

Lea raised an eyebrow. “Oh no. What does that witch want with you now?”

Ciana didn’t answer, she simply followed the other servant behind thinking what was her new fate behind those golden doors. Ciana stood in silence outside the gilded doors of Aurora’s private wing.

The hallway smelled of perfume and polished marble, the air heavier here, tainted by something more than rose oil. Two guards stood at either side, impassive. One finally knocked once, then opened the door.

“You may enter,” came a voice like silk draped over steel.

Ciana stepped inside, she was surprised it was just Lady Aurora and no signs of lily.

The room was a cathedral of wealth and precision. Walls lined in imported silk. Mirrors so clean they shone like moonlight. A fireplace crackled gently, scenting the air with cedarwood and rare spices.

At the center, Lady Aurora sat, legs crossed, chin lifted—as if she were royalty seated on her throne rather than merely the mistress of the Duke’s estate. Her robe was ice-blue velvet trimmed with silver fox fur, her lips painted deep pink. She did not look up from the glass she swirled lazily.

“You took your time,” Aurora said lazily, though Ciana had arrived within moments of being summoned.

“My apologies, Lady Aurora.” Ciana said softly avoiding the intensive gaze of Lady Aurora. She stood straight, eyes lowered.

Aurora rose slowly, her every movement precise, deliberate. A walking sculpture of elegance.

“I had no interest in keeping you,” she said with quiet disdain, walking toward her wardrobe. “But His Grace, in his charming detachment, gave you over to me like a broken trinket he didn’t want to fix. And I don’t throw away gifts, Even cheap ones.”

She turned sharply. “You’ll serve me from now on. Not because I need you, but because I don’t like clutter. You’ll keep my rooms immaculate. You’ll dress me when I call. You will not speak unless I address you, and you will never—never—mention His Grace in my presence.”

A small smile curled her lips as she said that statement, though it didn’t warm her face.

“I see the way the girls look at him, wide-eyed, starved like lambs drawn to wolves but con’t be foolish enough to think you’re the exception.” Then she stepped closer to Ciana with a menacing look and tone.

“The Duke gave you to me, which means you are beneath even his notice. So don’t look at him ,don’t speak to him and don’t even think of catching his eye.”

“Yes, my lady.” Ciana muttered softly.

“You may start by scrubbing the balcony rail. I expect it to shine like silver by sunset.”

Ciana slowly bowed down and proceeded to do the given task immediately, she didn't want add more problems to the lady's silent wrath.

Aurora turned and sank back into her velvet chaise, opening a letter sealed in violet wax—already dismissing Ciana as if she were no more than a fly near her wineglass.

………..

At the top floor of the mansion, the grand window display everything happening outside, thick silence hung in the study chamber of the Duke. Papers lay strewn across the Duke’s desk—maps, letters, coded reports. The only sound was the scratching of his pen… until a soft bootfall interrupted it.

“I thought I told you not to hover, Selena.”

Selena, his personal bodyguard—didn’t flinch. Tall, lean, and dressed in matte black armor woven with threads of steel silk, she stood near the window, arms crossed. Her hair was cropped at her jawline, dark and wind-tousled, her expression unreadable as she looked out across the estate.

“I don’t hover my Lord. I observe.”

Zain sighed and placed his pen down. “Then say what you came to say.”

Selena turned slightly. “My Lord, you really told Aurora she could do whatever she wanted with the new girl?” Zain coldly answered, “I have to use for her.” She turned sharply towards his direction and muttered,

“She’s already flaunting it. Dragging the maid around like a pet on display. That girl—Ciana, is it?, she’s different. She walks like she’s shrinking herself.”

“And?” Zain said coldly, as he continues his work, having no interest in whatever Selena had to say next.

“She doesn’t belong here.” Selena said calmly as if she could understand the maid from her perspective.

“No one does,” he murmured, then glanced sideways then back at his papers. Selena continued, voice quieter. “I saw your face this morning. You were rattled, you don’t get rattled, Zain. But you woke up looking like you’d stared at death and found it familiar.”

He stood up, walked to the window and looked down at the courtyard and below, Aurora was lounging while Ciana scrubbed the railing near her.

Selena watched him carefully. “You’re playing with fate, Zain. That girl doesn’t belong in Aurora’s claws, and you know it, stop playing games that won't end well.”

“She’s safer with Aurora than near me.” He said calmly.

“My Lord, No one is safe near Aurora,” Selena muttered. “Especially not when she’s bored.”

He didn’t answer, with a slight smile, he calmly returned to his table like nothing more had just happened awhile ago. Immediately selena left his chamber, something in Zain's chest twisted as he thought of selena last words.

By mid-afternoon, Ciana’s hands were raw, she had scrubbed the marble balcony railing until the silver polish had bitten into her skin. The sun bore down, and Aurora reclined in the shade beneath a parasol, idly flipping through a velvet-bound novel she was reading, while sipping her tea.

Lily, the silent shadow, stood nearby, watching her mistress like a hawk awaiting commands.

“Still dull,” Aurora said without looking up.

Ciana didn’t pause. She wiped the spot again.

A bead of sweat slipped down her temple, and her fingers throbbed, but she swallowed the ache.bThis wasn’t the first time she’d served cruel nobility, she was already pretty used to it.

The sun had dipped low by the time Ciana returned inside, carrying the basin she’d just rinsed from the back courtyard.

Her shoulders ached. Her hands were red and raw. Her mouth was dry.

She turned a corner too quickly—and collided into him. The basin slipped from her hand, clattering to the floor with a sharp echo. Duke Zain stood before her, unmoved, unbothered, terrifying in stillness.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she fell into a deep bow. “Forgive me, Your Grace—I didn’t see—”

“Stand,” he said coldly.

She obeyed, rising slowly.

His eyes lingered on her face—not cruelly, not curiously. Precisely, like he was trying to remember her from somewhere that didn’t exist in this world.

“Have we met before?” he asked, more to himself than to her.

Ciana hesitated avoiding his gaze at all cost. “Only… when you saved me, my lord.”

He said nothing, then slowly, he stepped closer. She didn’t flinch, but her body tensed. A silence fell, not awkward—but heavy. As if something deeper lingered beneath it.

He looked at her face, really looked, and she finally lifted her gaze—just once, their eyes met, for a moment, the world tilted.

She saw him beneath the burning tree as she stare his cold eyes, tryingto understand. Then it was gone, he stepped past her, “Be careful what you dream of,” he said quietly, without turning.

And then he was gone again.

“What if he also had a stranger dream too?.”

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