“It’s urgent.” Barnham holds up the crinkled letter.
Casimir releases an angry breath before returning his attention to me. “Tomorrow night.” His words carry a quiet promise that we will continue from where we left off, as if we have unfinished business to attend to.
“Goodnight,” I reply softly, turning to walk in the opposite direction.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
I descendseveral winding staircases until I finally find the small room that houses the servants. They are busy washing and folding clothes, cleaning, and doing other small tasks. I scan the room for Serafina, but I'm unable to find her.
An older woman stops before me, bowing slightly. “How may I assist you, Highness?”
“Is Serafina here?” I ask. “I require her assistance.”
The Elvarran turns. “Serafina! At once!” she calls loudly across the room, her voice booming with authority.
Serafina dashes from around the corner, a dirty rag in her grip as she approaches us. Her eyes slightly widen at the sight of me, but she quickly curtsies.
“Thank you,” I reply softly. “I’ll be needing her for a few hours.”
“Of course,” the woman coos.
Turning, I stride out of the servant's quarters and back into the main halls. Serafina trails behind me like a shadow, gaze locked on the floor. She stays deadly silent the entire walk to my room, entering shortly behind me.
I close the door to my room and open my wardrobe. “I need you to help me dress.”
“Yes, Highness.”
“Thank you,” I say, sorting through Rowena’s gowns and picking the best one.
It’s not as grand as the one I wore to the ball, but it will do nicely. The dark navy fabric hugs my frame with quiet elegance, the high neck lending an air of poise while the long sleeves trail delicately to my wrists. Simple silver embroidery traces the cuffs and collar, catching the light.
Serafina helps me remove my day dress, leaving me in my chemise. She then bends down to guide the formal dress around my ankles as I pull it on. Sliding the thick fabric over my arms, she tightens the corset strings in the back.
“I asked for you specifically…” I break the silence, hoping she will speak to me. “Because of the other night.”
Serafina doesn’t reply.
“I wanted to make sure you were all right,” I say softly. “As someone who has also experienced that… my heart is heavy with you.”
What Olav nearly did to me in Avelisar left a permanent stain on my soul. I’d never felt such horror and dread as in that moment when he shoved me down into the bed. His hands are like a brand on my skin, and no matter how many times I scrub myself in the bath, I can’t shake the sensation of his forced touch.
The edges of Serafina’s eyes start to water as her composure wavers. “Thank you.”
“Does he hurt you?” I ask, treading a fragile line.
A tear rolls down her cheek. I can see her struggling to keep her composure, her breath ragged as she keeps her gaze pinned on the floor. Turmoil rumbles beneath the surface, moments away from erupting. Serafina stands, wiping away hertears. She refuses to look at me, her hands coiled so tightly that her knuckles turn white.
I place a hand over hers, causing her to lift her eyes.
“Nikolas killed my parents. He torments me every time he visits.” Serafina finally speaks, her voice filled with sorrow.
“You used to be a lady?” I ask in disbelief.
She nods. “My father used to be the duke of Thalvar.”
Her words stun me. Serafina was born into a lavish life, attending parties and social events; her only worry was catching the eye of some handsome lord. Now, her days consist of scrubbing floors and folding laundry, her back aching from labor.
“Would you like to hurt him back?” I say gently.
