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Chapter Twelve

  Like the night before, Lumi was escorted to the bathhouse. A mixture of heady aromas greeted her as she stepped into the chamber—lavender, rose, chrysanthemum—but they did little to soothe her.

  She was hollow. Moving through the motions as servants prepared her for the emperor. Cold water cascaded over her, but the frigid bite barely registered. Even the strangling cinch of the corset around her ribs felt distant. She felt as though she'd left her body.

  By the time they finished, it wasn't relief that filled her. It was doom—thick and impending, like a hand around her throat.

  Standing before a polished bronze mirror, her reflection stared back at her. No paint today. No kohl to sharpen her gaze, no rose tint to soften her lips. Her hair was left to dry in loose, untamed tendrils. She looked raw, real.

  Completely and utterly Lumi.

  She didn't know which was worse—being primed into a perfect doll, or sent as herself. She felt more exposed like this, more vulnerable.

  Before she knew it, she was led back to her room. The walls closed in on her, the shadows deeper. She sat on the edge of her bed, her hands clenched in her lap, until the sound of the door handle turning wrenched her out of her paralysis.

  The door creaked open. Rico stood on the other side.

  It was time.

  She rose, feeling his stare sweeping over her. There was something in his expression she knew well, something harsh and rotten.

  "There must be something wrong with him," he said, tone flat.

  Lumi's brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

  He gestured towards her, upper lip curling. "He must be disturbed to prefer you like this. Most would find it insulting to have you presented this way, but he wants this. He asked for it."

  Rico's expression remained tense, his shoulders rigid as he gestured for her to follow. He offered no further explanation, and she did not ask for one.

  She followed him through the establishment, the familiar sights of the hallways and dimly lit corridors blurring together. She braced herself for the inevitable climb to one of the lavish suites, but they didn't turn towards the stairs.

  Instead, they stepped outside.

  The night air struck her like a whip, the chill seeping into her bones. She shivered, hugging herself as her breath fogged in front of her.

  "Where are we going?"

  Rico didn't meet her stare, his expression bored, "The emperor has requested your presence on his ship."

  Lumi's steps faltered.

  "His ship...?" she echoed.

  "Keep walking." Rico urged

  When she didn't, his long strides ceased, too. He turned to face her, irritation flashing across his features. He looked at her like she was a stain on his time, no more than an inconvenience.

  "Let's go," he said, voice clipped.

  Lumi couldn't move. Her legs felt like lead, rooted to the ground as her mind spiraled. The thought of spending the night on the emperor's ship overwhelmed her.

  It wasn't just his ship—it was his domain, his fortress, his kingdom.

  She wouldn't have the fragile familiarity of the pleasurehouse to cling to, wouldn't have the illusion of safety within its walls. She would be in his world, under his control.

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  She couldn't breathe.

  Rico sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. Without warning, he stepped forward and delivered a slap across her face.

  The sharp crack broke through the fog in her mind. Her hand flew to her cheek, her flesh pulsing with the imprint of his hand.

  "Get a move on," he snapped.

  Don't worry, Lumi.

  The voice startled her. It hadn't made an appearance since she'd left her room earlier. She'd hoped it had disappeared entirely, hoped it had been nothing more than a fevered hallucination.

  But, no.

  It was still present. Smooth and serpentine as it curled through her thoughts.

  He'll pay for that.

  Terror bloomed in her chest, winding its way up her throat like poison ivy. She forced herself to swallow it down, forced her legs to move her forward. Her nails dug into her palms as the pier came into view.

  Soon, the cobbles beneath her feet gave way to the creak of wooden planks. The dock stretched on, a path into an abyss of black water. A row of moored vessels rocked gently in the waves. Lanterns swayed in the breeze, their warm glow casting long shadows. Lumi caught a glimpse of her reflection on the water's surface, distorted and fleeting.

  Rico came to a halt, gesturing towards the ship with a flick of his hand.

  The sloop loomed before them, smaller than she expected, but no less imposing. Its hull was blackened and scarred, the wood pitted and cracked. It appeared to have weathered a thousand tempests and emerged worse for wear. The name etched into the prow had been worn down by salt and time, barely readable beneath a layer of barnacles. A faint mist curled around the ship's base, blurring the lines where the vessel ended and the water began. It made it look as though the ship floated on shadows instead of waves.

  "This is it," Rico said.

  Then came the clash of steel. A brutal symphony shattering the stillness of the night. Rico paused, his hand falling to the hilt of his blade.

  Lumi's heart hammered, each beat a sick, hollow thud. Her dagger was strapped to her thigh, the leather sheath suddenly too tight, too hot against her skin.

  A scream tore through the air, high-pitched and frantic. Abruptly, it was cut short. The silence that followed was heavier than the bellow itself. Lumi exchanged a glance with Rico, but his expression gave nothing away.

  "Climb," he barked, tone colder than the night.

  Her fingers trembled as she gripped the rope ladder. The coarse fibers bit into her palm as she hoisted herself up. Rico followed close behind, his presence an unspoken threat.

  When Lumi swung herself over the edge and onto the deck, her breath caught in her throat.

  It was carnage.

  Blood slicked the planks, pooling in jagged grooves and spilling over the edged, into the black waters below. Three bodies lay scattered, their shapes grotesque and wrong.

  Lumi's stare caught on one figure. A girl. Her hair once a halo of wild, defiant curls was matted with blood, her dark skin pale beneath the gore. Lumi's belly flipped as recognition pierced her.

  The girl from the market.

  The one with the sharp tongue and the defiant look in her eyes. The one who had been flanked by her ever-loyal friends as they discussed cashing in on the emperor's bounty.

  All three of them were here, and all three of them were dead.

  Not just dead.

  This was worse.

  They were ruined. Bodies torn apart in ways no human should endure. Limbs severed with vicious precision. Gashes split skin and muscle to reveal jagged shards of bone.

  This wasn't a fight.

  This was slaughter.

  And then she saw him.

  Rook stood at the center of the chaos, the architect of the destruction. He was drenched in blood. His coat clung to his body, heavy with it. Dark streams smeared across his face, dripping from his chin. His sword hung loose in his hand, crimson droplets sliding from its edge to join the pool at his feet. He was breathing hard, his broad shoulders rising and falling like the tides.

  Then his eyes found hers.

  Wild. Feral. Darker than the night

  It was the look of a man still teetering on the edge of bloodlust. The world narrowed to the space between them. Her heart seized as she thought he might turn his fury on her.

  But then something shifted.

  Recognition softened the hard lines of his face. His sword slipped from his hand, hitting the blood-soaked deck with a heavy clang. The sound echoed in the silence that followed, louder than the screams had been.

  Rico landed beside her, his boots thudding against the bloodied wood. "Ah, looks like you've handled it."

  Handled it.

  Lumi's throat tightened as the iron tang of blood filled her senses. Her eyes fell back to the bodies. They were like her—survivors, clawing their way through every inch of their existence. They didn't deserve a fate so cruel.

  Nobody did.

  Bile threatened to rise. She was going to vomit, or pass out, or both.

  Rook's jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her—truly looked at her. In his gaze she saw not just violence, but something deeper. Something darker.

  It terrified her more than the blood.

  The world tilted. Her legs buckled beneath her. She hit the blood-slicked deck, knees crashing against the wood as darkness crept into the edges of her vision.

  "Lumi!" Rook's voice sounded distant, like it was underwater.

  The last thing she saw was the emperor's crimson-soaked figure moving towards her. Then everything went black.

  a/n: if you read this far and enjoyed this chapter, don't forget to let me know! 33 chapters are up on patreon, so if you'd like to catch up, find me there (:

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