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"Just get through tonight," I tell myself, lifting the spoon to my lips again. "Smile, be polite, don’t break anything."
As I finish up my meager meal, I catch sight of myself in the cracked mirror hanging by the door. My hair's in its usual waves but needs taming, and there are dark circles under my eyes that no amount of rest seems to erase.
"You’ve got this," I whisper to my reflection before heading out.
Stepping into the street, I pull my shawl tighter around me against the chill evening air. The sun's setting behind a horizon littered with skeletal remains of buildings, casting long shadows that seem almost sentient.
The walk to Valen’s place isn't far, but every step feels heavy with anticipation and doubt. By the time I reach his estate—a stark contrast to everything around it—I’m almost too stunned by its opulence to move.
Two guards stand at attention by the gate. They eye me suspiciously as I approach.
"I’m here for work," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
One of them checks a list and nods reluctantly before letting me through.
Inside, everything is polished surfaces and muted luxury—an alien world compared to mine. Valen himself stands near a grand staircase, talking quietly with someone important-looking.
Our eyes meet briefly across the room. His intense green gaze holds mine for just a second too long before he turns back to his conversation.
The butler appears almost immediately, ushering me with brisk efficiency toward the servant's quarters. The stark contrast between the opulent halls and the narrow, dimly lit corridor we traverse makes me feel like I’m crossing into another world.
"Quickly now," he says, barely sparing me a glance. "You’re expected on the floor in five minutes."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and follow him into a small room filled with uniforms. He hands me one—a plain black dress with a white apron—and points to a partition for privacy.
I change quickly, feeling the rough fabric against my skin, and tie the apron around my waist. As I step out, he thrusts a tray of drinks into my hands.
"Serve these to the guests in the main hall," he instructs. "And remember, you're invisible."
Invisible. Right. I give a quick nod and head out, balancing the tray as I weave through the crowd. The clinking of glasses and murmur of conversations fill the air, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter.
As I move through the sea of finely dressed guests, snippets of their conversations catch my ear.
"—no one really knows where Valen’s wealth comes from," one woman says, her voice dripping with curiosity.
"Rumor has it he made his fortune during the Centuries War," another guest replies. "Selling weapons to both sides."
A man scoffs. "War profiteering? Please. He's probably just an accomplished con man."
"Well, if we're to know where his money came from, one would think you would start with where he comes from himself."
The words intrigue me, making my gaze drift toward Valen every chance I get. He's magnetic, standing there with an air of command that makes it impossible to look away for long.
His dark hair, golden skin, and twin horns make him stand out, even without the imposing yet somehow relaxed posture he exudes. Each stolen glance only fuels my curiosity about this enigmatic kilgari man.
Balancing the tray with one hand, I manage to offer drinks to a group of guests while keeping an ear on their conversation.
"—you'd think someone would have uncovered his secrets by now," one says.
"Secrets or not," another adds, "he's undeniably captivating."
I couldn’t agree more. Every time our eyes meet—even briefly—I feel a pull that’s hard to explain. It's more than just physicalattraction; there's something deeper that I can’t quite put my finger on.
Navigating through the crowd becomes second nature as I listen and observe. Valen’s presence looms large over the gathering, his green eyes flicking across the room like he’s always calculating something.
"You think he's dangerous?" a woman whispers to her companion as she takes a drink from my tray.
"Dangerous?" The man chuckles softly. "Perhaps. But who isn't in these times?"
