You were starting to grow sick of this ridiculous charade, the facade of servitude felt deeming, insulting of someone of your caliber. God's, if your clan members could see you now, they would surely make fun of you. A Valeska is supposed to be a figure of victory not a man playing pretend.

But all was for the mission something that needed to be done without fail. To kill the kings prized possession. So with precision, you attended to the royal concubine's quarters, meticulously folding linens and plumping silk pillows, burdened by the title of 'butler' under Lord Xandros's command. As you completed your tasks, the doors to the lord's chambers swung open abruptly, revealing Xandros in a state of anguish. Tears traced down his ethereal visage as he collapsed onto his bed.

His muffled sobs' made worry infest your heart. Like roaches, the feeling swarmed your being, and you've tried so hard to prevent such things from occurring, but with the tear ridden concubine, it was impossible.

Slowly, approaching and settling at the edge of the bed. His gaze met yours, revealing a face marred by a swollen cheek and a split lip—yet another consequence of the emperor's unchecked rage, inflicted upon his supposed favorite concubine. Without words, your hand sought his cheek, letting the tips of your fingers caress the bruised skin. Xandros flinched uncertain at first by such gentle touch, then he yielded to your caress, seeking solace in your embrace.

As his tears subsided, exhaustion claimed him, and he drifted into unconsciousness, cradled in your lap. And as the moon rose the moment you had awaited arrived, your mission just moments away from completion. Reaching for your concealed blade and resting it onto his throat. Your hand froze. The reason? Far beyond your knowledge. After so much effort, is this how it ended? And if things couldn't get worse.

Xandros awakened, his delicate hand gently holding your own. Awareness flickered in his eyes as he whispered, "Do not be afraid, if you must, then my life is yours…”