Chapter 281: Poisoned Intentions
[Eleania’s POV—During the Hunt—Before Lavinia Found Her in Osric’s Arms]
I sat calmly, pretending to enjoy the peaceful forest breeze, when a knight from House Talvan leaned close to whisper something into Sirella’s ear.
Her lips curved into that knowing smirk—the kind that never meant anything good. "Good," she murmured, voice smooth as silk laced with venom. "Keep an eye on her."
The knight bowed and retreated.
Sirella lifted her teacup with elegance that could fool anyone, but I knew better. That smile of hers was a blade wrapped in honey.
"It’s your chance now," she said, voice low and deliberate.
My brow furrowed. "Chance? What chance?"
Her eyes met mine—cold, sharp, and utterly merciless. "Either win Lord Osric’s heart... or make sure to separate Princess from Lord Osric."
The words slithered into me like poison. Sweet. Deadly.
"Lord Osric’s equipment was damaged earlier," she went on, swirling her tea lazily. "He went to the western side to fix it. He should be finishing by now. And the princess..." — she smiled faintly — "seems rather bored of the hunt. She’s leaving the forest from the same direction."
She leaned closer, her tone turning silkier, darker. "You understand what I’m suggesting, don’t you?"
I swallowed hard but nodded. Of course I did. If I wanted Osric... I had to sever his ties with her first.
I stood, forcing a smile. "Alright. If I can’t have him, she won’t either."
"Good girl," Sirella said softly, setting her cup down with a delicate clink. Then her voice dropped, colder than steel. "I hope you succeed, Eleania. Because if you don’t..." Her smile returned—slow, deliberate, and terrifying. "You already know what happens to those who fail me."
My heart thudded in my chest. "Y-Yes, Lady Sirella."
Without another word, I turned and left, the weight of her threat—and my own desire—burning in my veins.
***
[Towards The West—Later—Irethene forest]
The forest seemed quieter than usual, as if holding its breath. I crouched behind a cluster of pines, waiting, heart thundering. And then I saw him.
Lord Osric stepped out of the tent, armor gleaming and brand-new equipment strapped perfectly. My pulse skipped. He looked... untouchable. Handsome. Commanding. And completely unaware of my presence.
I straightened instantly and made my way toward him, bowing low as etiquette demanded. "My lord," I said softly, hoping my voice sounded calm, refined... controlled.
He didn’t even glance at me. His eyes slid past, focused on something in the distance, and he took a measured step forward, as though I weren’t there at all.
A hot ache curled in my chest, twisting with something darker—frustration, need, hunger. I cannot let him go. Not like this. Not when my blood screamed for him, when every part of me throbbed with the thought of holding him, bending him into my orbit.
I quickened my steps, but I didn’t run—no, it had to look casual, innocent. Deliberate, I reminded myself. "My lord...hold on..."
Every movement a lure, a trap.
Then my eyes caught the low stone jutting from the path, jagged and cruel. And I smiled—just slightly, imperceptibly. A plan formed. A risky, delicious plan.
I moved in front of the stone and stumbled—carefully, perfectly timed. My body hit the unforgiving edge, and pain flared sharp and sweet through my feet and hands. Warm blood blossomed over my skin, and I gritted my teeth, forcing a soft gasp.
"Ah... forgive me, my lord," I whispered, voice trembling with feigned fear and weakness. "I... I lost my footing."
Osric’s stride faltered. Finally. His eyes flicked down to me — for the first time really seeing me. Relief? Annoyance? Something unreadable, something that made my heart leap and sink all at once.
I let myself linger on the ground, limbs splayed just enough to appear helpless, blood glinting faintly in the sunlight. Every ache, every sting was a thrill. Every second, a trap.
He will notice me. He cannot walk away now.
And yet, even as he paused, even as his gaze measured me, I felt the heat coil tighter in my chest, the dark, hungry desire that twisted every thought. I wanted him. I needed him. And I would do anything to make him mine, even if it meant bruising my body, wounding myself... even if it meant burning the line between accident and intent.
I lifted my eyes to his, letting the pain, the longing, and the desperation all bleed into them. See me, I willed silently.
Notice me. Want me. You will not leave.
For the first time, the faintest flicker of hesitation passed across his face—and I knew I had him. Even if he didn’t know it yet.
***
[Osric’s POV — Same Time]
I stared at Eleania, blood streaking her skin, the carefully calculated stumble, and the way she lingered on the stone like prey waiting to be claimed. It was obvious—she had done this on purpose. Every wince, every hesitant moan, and every angle of her gaze screamed desire.
Even in a past life, she had treated me as nothing more than a prize to grasp. A possession. And here she was again, lowering herself... deliberately, shamelessly.
"My lord... it hurts..." she murmured, voice trembling, eyes glistening with something I couldn’t name.
I clenched my jaw. Unbelievable. She had gone this low, all to ensnare me. And yet... why did a part of me hesitate? I had work to do—Lavinia awaited. The hunt could not wait for her manipulations. I had to leave.
I turned.
Her small, bloodied hand shot out, gripping mine with alarming strength. "My lord... are you going to leave me like this?"
I froze. That desperate, unyielding tone, that silent command hidden beneath her suffering—it cut sharper than any blade. I exhaled slowly.
I cannot leave her here.
No matter her intentions, no matter her venom or her schemes, she was a lady injured, bleeding. And as a gentleman... as much as it disgusted me... I had a responsibility.
"I shall take you to the medical camp, Lady Eleania," I said, voice low and controlled, hiding everything I truly felt.
Her entire face lit up in triumph, radiant and infuriating all at once. She practically melted into my arms, and though I held her carefully, a dark coil of revulsion tightened in my chest.
Disgusting... I reminded myself. Do not be swayed. She is a manipulator, nothing more.
And yet, her warmth pressed against me, her calculated vulnerability in my arms... I could feel her intent, burning and undeniable. Every instinct screamed at me to throw her off, to leave her to the forest floor.
But I could not.
Then, suddenly, she pressed herself against me, voice trembling yet sharp: "My lord... it hurts a lot!"
The words, the closeness... it was almost too much. I could feel my patience snap, the raw urge to fling her away, to crush her audacity. My jaw tightened. I forced my voice into a dangerous calm:
"Lady Eleania... do not cross the line here. One more step, and I may instinctively... harm you."
Her body stiffened, her eyes flicking up at mine. "I was just... in pain, my lord. I did not mean... to cross the line."
I ground my teeth, forcing myself to hold back the tide of frustration and disgust. Every fiber of me wanted to throw her to the ground and leave her there.
Then—a sound. Deep, primal, impossible to ignore.
ROARRRRRRR!!!!!!!!
I froze. My heart leapt.
No... no... please not now.
I turned slowly, and the forest seemed to darken in that instant. Lavi appeared on horseback, riding her horse like a force of nature, eyes blazing, every muscle taut with barely restrained fury. Behind her, Sir Haldor loomed, a shadow of disciplined menace and Marshi...glaring at me with anger.
"Lavi..." I whispered, my body tensing.
Her gaze locked on me, cold and lethal. The air around her seemed to shiver under her presence. Then her eyes flicked to Eleania—sharp, piercing, almost predatory—before curling into a slow, venomous smirk.
"Ah..." Lavi’s voice was ice wrapped in silk, deadly and indulgent all at once. "I see someone thinks she can play... games." Her smirk widened. "How quaint. I suppose... I have more to hunt."
Every hair on my body bristled. I tightened my hold on Eleania, not out of protection, but out of instinct —that a storm is coming. A very dangerous Storm.
Eleania swallowed hard, and even her dark, calculating eyes flickered with fear. But Lavi... Lavi’s stare didn’t waver. It was as if the forest itself bowed to her wrath, and I felt every ounce of my control being tested.
She dismounted from her horse with terrifying grace, every movement precise, deliberate, and lethal. Her boots sank slightly into the forest floor, yet she seemed to dominate everything around her.
With a slow, almost lazy motion, she drew her sword. The sunlight glinted off the blade, sharp as the promise in her eyes.
"Osric... my love..." Her voice was ice and fire combined, soft yet lethal. "...put her down. I shall handle the rest from here."
The forest held its breath.
And in that moment, every ounce of tension, every hidden desire, and every threat hung in the air like a storm about to break.