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As we continued down the long, snow-cleared path, I took in everything around me. It looked as though it had been freshly tended moments ago. A frozen pond shimmered to the right, completing the image of a winter palace.

When we reached the front doors, I realized just how massive they were. Twin entries, large enough to welcome entire crowds. The moment we stepped onto the porch, they swung inward. A woman appeared inside, dressed in a traditional maid’s uniform, a short white veil covering her face. “Greetings, Lady Corpus. I see you’ve returned early,” she said, not sparing me a glance.

“I have. I need to see my father. Is he in his study?” Valentina asked briskly.

“Yes. You’ve caught him at a good time—he was just resting before leaving to meet the King.”

“Good. Prepare dinner for when we return. Arianna will be joining us.”

She turned and motioned for me to follow. If the outside had impressed me, the inside surpassed it entirely. Marble floors stretched beneath a grand staircase that split toward the second level. Paintings and statues lined the halls as she guided me through.

We climbed, turned down several corridors, and finally stopped before a door.

She knocked gently. “May I come in, Father?”

A pause. “Yes, come in, darling. I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

Valentina turned slightly, her voice brushing through my mind.

You’ll do fine.

Then she opened the door.

The study was richly Victorian, an expansive desk at its center, a high-backed chair behind it. Towering shelves lined the walls, cluttered with potion bottles and ancient scrolls. A man stood with his back to us, cloaked in a long, dark coat that brushed the floor. His jet-black hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail. When he turned to face me… He didn’t speak. He just stared, like he was looking at a ghost from another life.

TAINTED| CHAPTER 10

Draco Cyrus Corpus

The room stood still between the three of us, Val standing a respectable distance away at the door, and him behind his desk. Time felt thin the moment our gazes connected, stretched tight and unmoving. I tried to push down the feeling rising beneath my chest, but it refused to settle. A shallow vibration overtook my nerves, pulsing downward until it knotted at the base of my stomach and rooted there.

There was unease about Lord Draco that stole the breath from my lungs. He didn’t exude warmth, but there was no direct threat in his stance either. That alone undid me. He was neither. He read more like a warning. My body seemed to understand that before my mind could and it rattled my nerves until even my own senses turned against me.

A sweet, floral scent drifted through the air, unfamiliar, heavy, almost oily as it bled into my awareness. My gaze flicked toward Valentina, searching for its origin. Her sugar-soft balm lingered beneath it, familiar and grounding, but this… this was different.

It deepened.

What had been light and floral shifted into a darker, richer, aroma I couldn’t fully name. It was clear in its presence but threaded with a softer perfume. Almost… careful. The realization hit all at once. It was me. The scent thickened on my tongue, spiced now, sharp beneath the sweetness, as my gaze returned to the man before me.

I forced myself to breathe, my shoulders squared despite the unease crawling beneath my skin. There was no time to slip into fear.

The corners of my mouth played with an uneased smile as I took in another steady breath.

As the flare of my own scent settled into the air, another pressed forward, familiar in its sharpness, but unmistakably different. The bright edge of citron struck first, I had come to recognize in Arianna, but this was steadier. Grounded. Paired with the quiet warmth of clove, it settled deeper in my lungs, less volatile, more controlled.

His stone face shifted into a smirk as the tension in the room cracked.

The way he held himself felt mythical, at first glance I couldn’t quite grasp his features how other worldly he was. I had to study him. His skin held an almost ethereal sheen, moonlit and smooth, but beneath the pale surface lived a golden undertone that felt… alive. Lord Draco’s nose was sharp, angular matching the clean line of his jaw. But his eyes disrupted that precision. They were round, deeper than anything else about him, carrying a weight of wisdom that didn’t match the rest of his face.

Even his hair stood in contrast to him, obsidian dark against his lighter complexion. Slicked back without a single strand out of place, it fell past his waist with an intentionality that couldn’t be ignored. Everything about Lord Draco felt constructed. Refined. Controlled.

He was everything I expected, and nothing at all.

I had imagined him taller than me, but Lord Draco stood a few inches shorter. What he lacked in height, he carried elsewhere. There was no confusion in his presence, none about where his authority began or ended. And that smirk on his face told me he knew it. Draco’s hand slid back through his hair, smoothing it into place with practiced ease. Then he moved.

Silent.

Deliberate.