At the palace, a long line of maidservants—each no older than fifteen—moved in quiet order. I was among them, silent, unnoticed.
Suddenly, a man in his early thirties approached, his eyes fixed on me.
"Come, little girl. come "his voice , almost coaxing
He wrapped his fingers gently around my hand, and without another word, we walked away from the queue.
It felt strange. Was I not meant to stay with the others? Why was I being led elsewhere?
We reached a quiet chamber—unusual in its silence. No guards, no servants, no presence but ours. It reminded me oddly of home… perhaps they were poor, I wondered.
The man seated himself in the center of the room, as though it were his rightful place—as though he were the head of the household.
I stood still, my gaze fixed on him, strangely drawn.
He began to write something, then paused and looked up, as though only now remembering I was there.
"Oh, right," he said softly, his tone both gentle and commanding. "I'm Ai Geo—a friend of your mother. She asked me to look after you, to guide you toward a brighter future."
He smiled.
My mother? The thought stung. She had cast me out so easily… how could she have arranged anything for me?
But I remained quiet, lost in my own thoughts.
I remained unspoken, wrapped in silence.
"I assumed your mother must have told you," the man said at last, hesitating.
"But… since I am often occupied with court matters, my son—" he gestured toward a seat to my left, one I hadn't noticed before, "—will help guide you from now on."
I turned my head.
There he was.
A younger man—quiet, yet intense—staring directly into me, as if into my soul. And my soul, startled, trembled.
From where he sat, his black eyes locked onto mine—unblinking, unreadable. Long, inky hair framed his face. His robes, too, were all black, making it seem as though a shadow had been given form.
No wonder I hadn't noticed him when I entered.
He was still staring.
Unease crept through me. I turned back to Ai Geo, seeking comfort in the familiarity of his presence.
"Chao Xing," Ai Geo called. "Show Zeitan to her room."
Chao Xing. So that was his name.
He rose—not merely stood, but rose like the warning wind before a storm.
And before the storm could break, I stepped out of the room first, refusing to let him lead.
He followed.
I didn't show my fear. But I felt it.
Why did I fear him? I couldn't say.
Then—
"Why?"
His voice, cold as winter steel, cut through the silence.
"Why didn't you question anything that happened to you?" he asked, curiosity laced with a strange emptiness.
I said nothing.
I didn't want to answer.
So I turned away and continued walking, quietly, as if silence could protect what I didn't yet understand.
"If you go that way,..." he warned, his voice eerily calm, "you'll find dead bodies."
I froze. A graveyard lay just beyond that path. My breath caught in my throat as I slowly turned to look at him. Fear gripped me.
He was smiling—casually, almost kindly—but it chilled me to the bone. That smile didn't feel safe. It felt like a silent threat. Like he might bury me there and never think twice.
I realized something then: he wasn't good for me. But what could I do? I was just an eleven-year-old girl.
He began walking down the path, and I followed—because he told me to. I watched him closely. He looked young, maybe eighteen or nineteen, but something about him was hardened. A long scar ran from his scalp down to his neck—a jagged line that spoke of violence, of war, of discipline. He looked like someone who had been trained young, someone who had seen too much.
Suddenly, he stopped. I halted behind him.
"This is your room. Open the gate."
I stepped inside.
Then—click. The gate slammed shut behind me. He locked it from the outside.
"What are you doing?" I called out, trying to sound braver than I felt.
His voice came faintly through the door. "Since I'm your master now, I'll teach you. The same way I was taught."
Then silence.
I beat on the door, fists pounding in the dark. No one came. No voice responded. The world beyond had disappeared.
And in here, there was only me. Alone.
No candles. No warmth. Just the dark.
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