Chapter 334: Century-Old Hate
Under Solaira’s cold gaze, Nyles’s body visibly shuddered.
Those who watched could almost taste the fear running down her spine.
However, they did not know that internally, she was burning with unbridled rage, hatred, and jealousy. Seeing Solaira standing so close to the man she wanted, while she herself knelt in such a humiliating way, was a harsh blow to her ego. From being a princess and a Dark Lord’s general, being reduced to a lowly beggar in enemy territory was nearly more than she could bear.
The humiliation only deepened when Solaira spoke. "Human, I understand your gratitude for Malakai saving your life. But do not make me reverse his efforts should I ever find you near him, or touching him so casually again. I will not overlook it a second time. Do you understand me?" she asked in a low, frigid voice.
Nyles felt the sting of the blatant threat but gritted her teeth to swallow the insult. She replied in a dolce manner, "Yes, My Lady. Forgive me for my imprudence. I was only-"
"That is all. There is no need for further explanation. You may leave now." Solaira cut her off brutally, her voice low and commanding.
Nyles just stared at her agape, unable to form a sentence to retort. Solaira did not give her a chance to recover. "Zevran, take her away from here."
Zevran was about to lead the woman out of the tent when she bent low and begged, "Wait, My Lady! Please, allow me to work here to repay the kindness. I promise I will not cause any trouble. I have nowhere else to go, My Lady. Please."
Solaira turned to meet Malakai’s ever-calm eyes, which clearly said, ’Decide whatever you want.’
Turning back to the woman once more, she looked toward Zevran. "Zevran, find her a job in the camp. But make sure she does not get in our way."
Zevran understood perfectly that Solaira wanted the woman as far from her and Malakai as possible, so he gave a firm nod in agreement.
Days passed, and Nyles was given odd jobs here and there.
She was always kept far away from the Lord’s tent.
Meanwhile, the news of her offering herself to him spread fast through the camp. She became nothing but a laughing stock to the other women, who had long since given up on the idea of serving Malakai. They knew better, especially since Solaira was his official and only true lover.
The other women passed snide comments whenever she walked by, calling her names like "desperate" or a "whore" who did not know her place. They mocked her for trying to climb too high.
This added fuel to the already raging fire within her, and her hatred burned hotter. Her rage reached a breaking point when she caught a glimpse of Malakai through the trees, kissing Solaira passionately.
In a fit of fury, she killed one of the mocking women in the woods and threw her body into a nearby stream before fleeing the scene.
However, another woman had seen the crime and confronted her about the use of magic.
Zafira was prepared to kill her as well until the woman knelt before her, pleading for power and a chance to fight against Solaira. She was the very woman who had dared to lie in Solaira’s bed in a state of undress, hoping Malakai would be seduced to take her.
Her name was Clair.
She explained the deep hatred she felt toward Solaira and swore her loyalty to Zafira, provided she was granted power by the Dark Lord. Zafira took the woman under her wing, if only to use her as a test subject.
Following this alliance, she tried countless times to get Malakai’s attention through sneaky tricks aided by Clair. Yet, they failed every time. Zevran was always there, blocking her efforts at every turn.
One day, the body of the woman Zafira had thrown into the stream, resurfaced. Upon closer inspection, it was discovered that she had died by the hand of dark magic.
Panic and suspicion began to ripple through the camp as the news spread that an infiltrator was among them. Zafira, still disguised as Nyles, decided it was time to end her game. Zevran’s suspicion had grown too heavy for her to ignore.
Before she could be brought in for questioning, she fled the camp. She took Clair with her, the accomplice who had helped her and guarded her secrets for so long.
Returning to her true form, Zafira begged Lord Azrath to help her claim Malakai. In return, she offered to perform a certain ancient magic. It was a ritual that would prevent the Dark Lord from ever losing his life, granting him a safeguard against the celestial beings, which would only make him unstoppable.
"So... what is this magic you speak of?"
A dark, heavy voice reverberated through the cavernous chamber. Within the dim, shadow-laden space, a man with long black hair sat with his chin resting against his knuckle, his legs crossed in a posture of effortless authority. His figure remained obscured by darkness.
Zafira began, "It is a magic that will-"
Clank!
A sudden crash shattered the stillness, as though something heavy had struck against stone.
Evelyn’s eyes flew open.
"Where!" She gasped sharply, her lungs struggling as if remembering how to breathe. Disorientation clouded her senses as she fought to comprehend the darkness surrounding her. It took several strained seconds before the crushing reality settled in.
She was no longer lost in the past.
She was back in the present.
Still bound and still imprisoned.
Before she could gather her thoughts, her attention shifted toward the disturbance outside her dark cell. It was night, and moonlight seeped through a single stony window, illuminating a portion of the heavy doors that kept her locked away.
She heard a voice outside, and her focus sharpened.
"I demand you let me in!" a man’s angry voice boomed through the door.
"We just told you, you are not allowed to enter. Master has prohibited you, and everyone else, from entering the chamber," someone hissed in a scratchy voice, and Evelyn could discern that it was a Darkrot.
"This is ridiculous! I have every right to be here! I told you all before leaving that I would return to claim her!" the man roared.
Eve stiffened as recognition struck.
Drake.
The same repulsive man who had clearly learned nothing from their previous encounter, when she had melted his lips.
Darkrots snickered at his outburst before one of them replied coldly, "If you have grievances, present them to the Master."
Before the exchange could escalate further, a familiar woman’s voice sliced through the tension.
"Drake, I would advise you not to create unnecessary trouble today. You are well aware of how significant tonight is."
"Dr. Zora," Eve whispered.
She recognised the voice immediately, and anger roared through her as she recalled how the woman had turned out to be a traitor, helping to orchestrate the very trap Eve was now caught in.
Zora continued to speak. "Now, be a good pet and go speak to the Master if you have concerns. You cannot be causing a scene today."
"And if I do, who will stop me? Will it be you... Clair?" Drake spat angrily.
Eve’s eyes widened at the mention of that name.
"Clair?" The name slipped faintly from Eve’s lips, barely a whisper within her haze-filled mind.
Her heart began to pound, slow at first, then violently against her ribs, and her thoughts began to spiral.
A crushing realisation struck with brutal force.
The visions she had witnessed, fragments of the distant past, suddenly sharpened with terrifying clarity.
Within those memories had been a woman.....Clair.
The same Clair who had vanished alongside Zafira, fleeing to the Dark Lord, never to be seen again.
Past and present collided.
Pain exploded behind Eve’s eyes as a vicious headache tore through her skull. Faces blurred and overlapped, echoes of history merging with the present until reality itself seemed to fracture.
Her breathing turned ragged. Her disoriented mind started to connect the dots between her scattered thoughts. The ugly reality hit her like heavy waves as she recalled everything that had happened before she lost consciousness.
She recalled her meeting with the "Master," the figure who wore the face of her long-deceased mother. A twisted work of fate.
Along with that image came the poison the woman had spat....the truth of who she really was.
Zafira.
The same shadow general who had served the Dark Lord. The same woman who had been pathologically obsessed with Malakai. The same sorceress who had slithered into their camp and fled into the night with a woman named Clair.
Then, the final piece of the jagged puzzle slotted into place, and Eve felt her soul recoil.
The woman named Clair.....the one Solaira had once seen leaving Malakai’s tent in a desperate bid for his bed, was no longer a stranger.
She was the same woman who had been Eve’s nanny in this life.
She was the handmaiden who had tucked her into bed, whispering lullabies while her "mother" still lived in the eyes of the world. The woman Eve had trusted above nearly everyone else, alongside Septimus.
The same woman who had gently applied medicine to her wounds after Queen Elara’s punishments.
The same woman who had held her, soothing her tears whenever she cried out for her mother or when her father cruelly shunned her.
The same woman who had spoken with warmth, with tenderness, with the affection of a motherly presence.
With each passing thought, something inside Evelyn began to fracture.
The truth tore through her with merciless clarity.
Clair had been there all along.
A serpent hidden within the nursery.
Watching Eve grow.
Waiting.
All the while carrying within her the weight of centuries-old hatred, festering silently beneath the mask of unwavering devotion.
