Arianne Carrington’s back was turned toward me, but the second she heard my footsteps, she turned, her lips curling with smug satisfaction.
I made sure she heard me. Loud, clear steps.
I tied on my apron as if I hadn’t seen anything, and quietly entered the kitchen.
I began chopping vegetables, biding my time as they finished their affair. When the living room finally fell silent, I returned to clean up their mess like I always did.
Arianne, voice hoarse from exertion, reached for the honey water I had prepared.
I knelt and offered it with both hands.
I felt like a servant from another era, bound by invisible chains.
Alaric sat smoking, his expression unreadable.
Suddenly—splash!
Arianne “accidentally” let the cup fall. The hot honey water spilled onto me, burning my skin.
"Ouch—" I gasped.
She rushed to my side, all false concern.
"Sister, are you okay?"
As she spoke, she pinched my arm hard, the pain making me flinch.
She tilted her head sweetly, masking the threat in her eyes from Alaric.
"Sister, you’re so careless. If you don’t want to serve me, just say so. No need to make a scene."
I swallowed the pain and forced a smile.
"Why should I trouble you?"