Surrendered To The Lord Of Sin

Greed looked toward the library again. "Tell me something, Lady Anastasia," Something was unsettling in the way he acknowledged her, almost as though he were aware that the name did not truly belong to her and was merely indulging the pretence, reminding her that he knew exactly who she was while allowing her to believe otherwise.

"If you found two accounts of the same war, written by opposing sides, which would you believe?"

The question caught her off guard.

Lucrezia thought for a moment. At last, "Neither." She responded, and his brows lifted in question. "I would look for what both accounts refuse to mention."

A quiet beat passed before Greed laughed under his breath. That is a much more troublesome answer than I expected."

Lucrezia frowned faintly. "Was there a wrong one?"

"No," His amber eyes settled on her again. "Just an unexpected one."

Something about the way he looked at her made her shift uncomfortably.

His amber eyes lingered on her for a moment before he finally reached into the inner pocket of his coat.

"Here." He extended something toward her, and Lucrezia stared at it.

A book.

It was bound in dark leather, old enough that the edges softened with age. A thin silver emblem was pressed into its cover, though she couldn’t quite make out what it depicted beneath the faint layer of wear.

She looked from the book to him, confusion evident in her expression. "What is this?"

"A book," he answered.

She gave him a look, and Greed’s mouth twitched. "I can see that," She murmured. "I meant—why are you giving it to me?"

He tilted his head slightly, studying her as though considering how much of an answer she deserved.

"Consider it a gift."

Lucrezia hesitated before slowly accepting it. The leather felt cool beneath her fingers. "A gift?"

"Do you always question gifts?"

"When they come from someone I barely know."

That earned a quiet laugh from him. "Then perhaps you should start getting to know me."

Something about the way he said it made her pause. She lowered her gaze to the book instead, turning it over in her hands. "What is it about?"

"You wanted to know about Blackvale," His gaze dropped briefly to the book in her hands before returning to hers. "Consider that a place to begin."

She looked down at the cover again, curiosity stirring despite the caution that remained firmly in place.

Greed stepped back, his expression settling into that familiar, effortless amusement. He straightened, brushing a few flakes of snow from his sleeve. "Perhaps you should come riding with me when the weather clears."

Lucrezia blinked. "Riding?"

"Someday."

He said it so casually that she almost wondered whether she had imagined the invitation.

"The western grounds are considerably larger than the little portion you’ve been allowed to see. If you’re going to remain in Blackvale, you might as well learn something about the place,"

Lucrezia glanced toward the castle.

For weeks, she had seen little beyond the same chamber and the corridors surrounding it. Even now, standing outside, she realized how little she truly knew about the land she had been brought into.

And there were questions. So many questions. Questions about the Sins. About Blackvale. About the strange laws governing this place. About what had happened at the fair.

Yet there was also a quiet restriction she had been reminded of countless times since arriving.

She was a Punishment.

There were places she could not simply wander into, things she could not touch, and matters that were never meant to concern her. Even being allowed beyond the chamber had required an escort.

The thought made her hesitate. "I doubt I would be permitted to go very far," she said carefully, reminiscing about the little exchange at the breakfast table before the fair.

Greed’s expression barely changed. "Wouldn’t you?"

Lucrezia looked at him.

He seemed to understand the question beneath her words without requiring her to explain it. "You’re a Punishment," he said. "Not a prisoner. There’s a difference,"

The words settled something inside her that she hadn’t realized was troubling her. Lucrezia lowered her gaze, though the reassurance did little to quiet her doubts. She had felt the weight of countless eyes following her ever since she had stepped beyond the chamber—some curious, others openly disdainful.

If she truly wasn’t a prisoner, then why did she feel as though every step she took required permission?

"Even so, I do imagine there are boundaries."

"Of course," he said. There was no mockery in his voice this time. "Blackvale has enough rules to suffocate a mortal before they’ve even learned half of them." His gaze moved briefly toward the castle. "But I know which doors are closed to you,"

Lucrezia looked back at him. "And which aren’t?"

A faint smile touched his lips. "Exactly."

Something about the certainty in his answer eased her hesitation. Although he wasn’t promising her freedom, he was promising her access within the limits already placed upon her. Perhaps that was precisely what she needed if she was gathering information.

"I suppose that would make things easier."

"I thought it might."

Greed stepped aside, allowing her passage toward the castle.

Lucrezia hesitated before adding, "I might have... questions."

"I assumed you would," he said, and glanced toward the castle once more before looking back at her. "You’re welcome to ask."

Lucrezia studied him carefully.

There was something strangely reassuring about having someone offer her knowledge so freely. At the same time, some quiet instinct warned her not to become too comfortable.

Still, she needed information. And perhaps Greed knew more about Blackvale than anyone she had encountered so far.

Lucrezia didn’t notice the faint satisfaction that passed through his expression before it disappeared behind that familiar, effortless smile. "Then when the weather clears, I’ll show you the western grounds."

She nodded. Still, something about Greed made her cautious. "I’ll... think about it."

"Very well," Greed stepped aside. "Until then, Lady Anastasia."

His tone was almost reassuring.

Almost.

And somehow, that was what made Lucrezia wonder whether accepting his invitation would be a mistake.

Lucrezia gave him a small nod before continuing with her attendants.

She had only taken a few steps when his voice reached her again. "And next time..." She glanced over her shoulder.

His amber eyes dropped briefly toward her thin gown. "Wear something warmer."

Lucrezia couldn’t tell whether it was genuine concern or a subtle warning disguised as advice. Either way, she nodded. "I will."

Greed watched her disappear through the castle doors. Only once she was gone did his smile fade.

***

By the time Lucrezia finally returned to the castle, the snow had thickened. She hurried through the corridors with her attendants close behind, occasionally glancing down at the book still held securely against her chest.

She hadn’t expected anything like this. What she had expected perhaps was a brief walk, a little fresh air, maybe the chance to search for Vespera. But instead, she had been given a book, and an invitation, neither of which she quite knew what to make of.

The moment she crossed back into Vaeron’s wing, the familiar cold seemed to settle over her again, and she rubbed her shoulders for warmth. However this time, Lucrezia noticed something she didn’t before.

In the pale daylight, she saw the chamber in an entirely different way. The doors opened, and Lucrezia stepped inside, but stopped at the third step.

The room looked... different, although not because anything had changed, but because she could finally see it properly. The dim candlelight she had grown accustomed to had concealed much of it. In daylight, there was nowhere for the emptiness to hide.

The chamber was enormous, and utterly devoid of life. Dark stone stretched across the walls, its surface almost swallowing the pale winter light that filtered through the tall windows.

The furniture was sparse, each piece carefully placed but seemingly untouched. There were no flowers, no decorative ornaments, no little signs of comfort that might have suggested someone actually lived there.

Even the shelves were strangely bare. The room didn’t feel neglected, as that would have implied someone had once cared enough to let it deteriorate.

It felt deliberately empty, as though its owner had stripped the chamber of everything unnecessary and left only what he could tolerate.

Lucrezia slowly stepped farther inside, sensing the peculiar void in the place and a silence that went deeper than ordinary quiet. Even the fire burning low within the hearth couldn’t entirely dispel it.

’Vaeron has always preferred the cold,’ She remembered what Rheonara had said.

Now, standing there beneath the pale daylight, Lucrezia understood exactly what she meant. The chamber felt like Vaeron. Cold. Distant. Uninviting.

And yet, strangely, there were those small traces of warmth now—the fire, the softened curtains, the faint scent of cedar and woodsmoke lingering in the air, things that hadn’t seemed to belong here, and the ones that hadn’t existed before her.

Her eyes slowly moved toward the chair where he had sat that morning. For some reason, her heart gave a small, traitorous flutter.

She immediately looked away. Ridiculous.

She had barely known the man, and yet somehow, the emptiness of the room made his absence feel far more noticeable than it should have.