Ivelle remained standing before Zelos Mortum with her heart beating so violently that she feared the sound might somehow betray her, while the footsteps approaching through the underground corridor continued to grow louder behind the walls of stone and iron. Every instinct inside her urged her to turn around and run back toward the rows of cages, because somewhere within that terrible establishment Liriel might still be waiting for her, frightened and alone, but the sight of the prisoners behind those bars had forced a painful truth upon her that she could no longer ignore.
If she allowed herself to be captured, she would be no different from them.
She could not find Liriel from behind iron bars.
Her eyes moved toward the corridor where the guards were approaching before returning to Zelos, who remained standing before her with an almost unsettling calmness, his expression unchanged despite the growing commotion surrounding them. Ivelle could not understand how he managed to look so composed when she felt as though her entire world was collapsing around her, and the more she looked at him, the more she hated the fact that the choice she had been given was not truly a choice at all.
Come with him, or remain.
One path led into the unknown.
The other led directly into a cage.
Ivelle swallowed before gathering enough courage to look directly into his dark eyes, although doing so immediately made her regret it because Zelos possessed the unnerving ability to make her feel as though every thought she desperately wished to hide had somehow become visible to him.
"If I go with you," she began carefully, her voice quieter than she wanted it to be, "will you help me find my friend?"
For a brief moment, Zelos simply watched her, and although his expression remained almost entirely unreadable, Ivelle noticed the slight narrowing of his eyes as though he had not expected her to ask such a question.
"You are attempting to negotiate with me," he said in his usual quiet voice.
Ivelle’s lips pressed together as she lowered her gaze briefly. "I am asking you."
"You are in no position to ask for anything."
The words were cold, but they were not cruel, and somehow that made them more difficult for her to argue against because she knew he was right.
Still, she could not simply surrender without trying.
"I only came here because of Liriel," she said, lifting her eyes toward him again. "She disappeared, and I thought she might have been brought here. I cannot leave without knowing what happened to her."
Zelos remained silent for several moments, while the footsteps beyond the corridor continued growing closer and the sounds of guards speaking to one another became increasingly distinct. Ivelle began to wonder whether he intended to answer her at all when he finally glanced toward the passage behind her.
"If you want to continue searching for her," he said calmly, "then you should first make certain that you survive."
The words settled heavily over her.
Ivelle looked toward the cages again.
Her fingers slowly curled against the sides of her dress as guilt tightened painfully around her chest. She had promised herself that she would find Liriel, and the thought of walking away now felt almost like betrayal, yet she knew that remaining would accomplish nothing if Blackthorn Row decided to imprison her.
When she finally turned back to Zelos, she drew in a slow breath.
"I will go with you," she said.
Zelos studied her for another moment before giving a slight nod, as though he had already known what her answer would be.
"Good," he replied.
Ivelle stared at him for a second, almost offended by the simplicity of his response, because she had just agreed to follow a man she barely knew into an uncertain future, and Zelos had accepted the decision with nothing more than a single word.
Before she could decide whether she was irritated enough to say something about it, the sound of approaching footsteps finally reached them.
Zelos’s attention shifted toward the corridor.
"Stand properly," he instructed.
Ivelle frowned. "I am standing properly."
His gaze moved briefly over her posture.
"You look terrified."
Her face immediately tightened. "I am not terrified."
"You are."
Ivelle opened her mouth to argue, but the approaching voices prevented her from continuing, and she immediately straightened her shoulders instead, deciding that arguing with him while guards were rushing toward them was probably not the wisest thing she could do.
Corvin soon appeared at the end of the corridor with two guards behind him, his expression tense from the disturbance that had taken place throughout Blackthorn Row. His eyes immediately settled on Zelos, but as he approached, his steps gradually slowed and his expression changed.
The guard who had accompanied Lord Zelos was gone.
In his place stood a young woman with blonde hair.
Corvin’s gaze moved from Ivelle to Zelos and then back again, confusion becoming increasingly obvious on his face.
"My lord," he began cautiously, his eyes briefly scanning the corridor behind them, "where is the security officer who accompanied you?"
Ivelle felt her entire body tense.
Her heartbeat immediately accelerated as memories of the unconscious guard returned to her mind, and for one horrifying moment she imagined Corvin ordering the men behind him to seize her while someone searched the establishment and discovered exactly what she had done.
Before she could panic any further, Zelos spoke.
"I have made my selection," he said.
The words were delivered so calmly that Ivelle did not immediately understand them, but the moment Corvin’s eyes returned to her, she realized what Zelos was doing.
He was allowing Corvin to believe that she had been selected from the people inside Blackthorn Row.
Corvin’s expression changed immediately.
"Ah," he said, the confusion disappearing as he lowered his head respectfully. "I understand, my lord. I had not realized you had already made your decision."
Ivelle remained completely silent.
Corvin looked at her again, and his attention immediately made her uncomfortable as his eyes traveled over her appearance with the detached manner of someone inspecting something that belonged to an establishment rather than a person standing before him.
"She does not appear to be among the registered arrivals," Corvin continued after a moment, his brows drawing together slightly. "If she was brought in through another channel, then we will need to verify her identification before the transaction is completed."
Ivelle’s stomach dropped.
Identification.
Her fingers slowly curled against her dress.
Corvin continued speaking without realizing that every word was making her more terrified.
"We normally require the registration documents and verification of the branding number before someone is released from the establishment."
Ivelle felt the blood drain from her face.
Branding number?
She had nothing.
No documents.
No identification.
Nothing that proved she belonged there.
Her eyes immediately moved toward Zelos, but before Corvin could continue explaining the procedure, Zelos turned his gaze toward him.
"That will not be necessary," he said.
Corvin paused.
"My lord, it is simply the procedure."
"I know."
Zelos’s voice remained quiet, but something about the coldness beneath those two words immediately changed the atmosphere between them.
Corvin hesitated.
Ivelle could see that the man wanted to argue.
Perhaps he wanted to remind Zelos of the rules or he wanted to insist that such procedures existed for a reason.
But after looking into Zelos’s eyes for several seconds, Corvin finally lowered his head.
"As you wish, my lord."
Zelos gave no further explanation.
He simply turned toward Ivelle.
"Come."
Ivelle blinked.
She looked toward Corvin, who was still watching her with obvious curiosity, before returning her attention to Zelos.
"Where?" she asked before she could stop herself.
Zelos looked at her.
Ivelle immediately cleared her throat.
"I mean, yes, my lord."
She hurried after him.
As they walked away from Corvin and the guards, Ivelle could feel the man’s eyes following them, but she refused to turn around because she was afraid that if she looked back, she might see suspicion returning to his face.
They moved through the underground corridor and toward the staircase, while Ivelle’s thoughts became increasingly tangled.
Zelos had protected her.
He had stopped Corvin from asking questions.
He had prevented anyone from discovering that she had entered Blackthorn Row disguised as a guard.
Yet she still did not know why.
That question remained in her mind as they climbed the stairs and returned toward the respectable upper floors of the establishment. The sounds of prisoners gradually disappeared behind them, replaced once again by the ordinary noises of clerks, workers, merchants, and wealthy visitors moving through the building.
Ivelle looked around at the offices they passed and felt a strange sense of disgust settle inside her.
Everything looked so normal.
People carried documents.
Men discussed business.
Workers hurried through corridors.
And beneath their feet, human beings were locked inside cages.
The thought made her chest tighten.
Liriel could still be somewhere within that nightmare.
Ivelle lowered her eyes.
She had not found her.
The guilt was beginning to hurt more than the fear.
Zelos, walking beside her, suddenly spoke without turning his head.
"You are thinking too much."
Ivelle immediately looked at him.
"What?"
"You make strange expressions when you think."
Her brows drew together. "I do not."
"You do."
"I am simply worried."
"Hmmmn." His answer was so immediate that Ivelle stared at him for a moment.
She could not tell whether he was attempting to comfort her or merely stating an observation, and because Zelos’s expression revealed absolutely nothing, she eventually decided that asking would probably be pointless.
When they finally emerged from the building, the warmth of the sunlight struck her face, and Ivelle found herself taking a deeper breath than she had expected. The underground chamber had left a heaviness inside her chest, and even standing beneath the open sky did not completely remove it.
Zelos’s carriage was waiting.
The coachman immediately straightened when he saw him approaching.
Ivelle stopped several steps behind.
Her eyes moved toward the carriage.
Then toward Zelos.
Then back again.
Zelos noticed.
"What is it?"
Ivelle shook her head quickly. "Nothing."
Zelos entered the carriage.
Ivelle remained standing outside.
After several seconds, his voice came from within.
"Are you coming?"
Ivelle blinked before quickly climbing inside.
The moment the carriage door closed behind her, she realized just how strange her situation had become.
Only a short time ago, she had been inside Blackthorn Row searching desperately for Liriel.
Now she was sitting inside an expensive carriage with Lord Zelos Mortum, a man she had met only hours earlier and who had just claimed, in front of everyone, that he had chosen to purchase her.
Ivelle sat on one side of the carriage while Zelos occupied the opposite seat, his attention turned toward the window as though nothing unusual had happened.
She looked at him.
Then quickly looked away.
But the questions inside her mind refused to disappear.
Who exactly was he?
Why did everyone know him?
Why did Corvin immediately obey him?
And perhaps most importantly, why had Zelos been inside Blackthorn Row in the first place?
Ivelle’s gaze slowly returned to him.
Zelos noticed immediately.
"What?"
She looked away.
"Nothing."
Several moments passed.
Then she looked again.
This time, Zelos was already watching her.
Ivelle immediately lowered her eyes.
"Do you have something to say?" he asked.
Her fingers twisted together in her lap.
"No."
"You have been staring at me."
"I was not staring."
Ivelle frowned.
There was no point arguing because, unfortunately, she had been staring.
Zelos leaned back slightly.
"Speak."
She hesitated.
The question that had been growing inside her mind suddenly seemed impossible to ignore.
"Do you buy women often?"
The silence that followed made her immediately regret asking.
Zelos looked at her.
Ivelle’s eyes widened slightly.
Perhaps she should have kept her thoughts to herself.
"What kind of question is that?" he asked.
Ivelle cleared her throat.
"I was only wondering."
"Why?"
Because I am sitting inside your carriage after you purchased me from a slave establishment, and I have absolutely no idea what kind of man you are.
She could not say that.
Instead, she lowered her eyes.
"No reason."
Zelos continued looking at her.
Ivelle could feel his attention and became increasingly uncomfortable.
Then her imagination began creating possibilities she desperately wished it would stop creating.
If Zelos purchased women...
How many had there been?
How many women had entered this carriage before her?
Where were they now?
Her eyes slowly widened.
What if they were dead?
She looked at Zelos again.
The man’s expression remained completely calm.
That somehow made the thought worse.
What if he had a place where he kept them?
What if—
"You are afraid again."
Ivelle immediately straightened.
"I am not."
Zelos’s brows lifted slightly.
"You are."
"I am simply thinking."
"About what?"
She froze.
Zelos waited.
Ivelle looked toward the window.
"Nothing."
His expression remained unchanged, but she could tell from his eyes that he did not believe her.
The carriage continued moving.
Ivelle pressed her lips together and tried to stop thinking.
Unfortunately, her mind had never been particularly obedient.
By the time the carriage finally slowed to a stop, she had already imagined several terrible things that Zelos might possibly do with the women he purchased, and none of them made her feel any better about sitting across from him.
The door opened.
Zelos stepped outside.
Ivelle remained where she was.
A moment later, Zelos looked back inside the carriage.
"Get down."
Ivelle hesitated.
"Where are we?"
"Outside."
She stared at him.
Zelos stared back.
Ivelle sighed quietly before stepping down from the carriage.
The building before her immediately caught her attention.
It was not a mansion.
It was not an estate.
Instead, it resembled the establishment of a physician, although the place possessed a distinctly unfamiliar appearance that reminded her that she was living in a world where healing involved far more than ordinary medicine. Strange symbols had been carved above the entrance, while shelves visible through the windows were filled with jars, bottles, dried herbs, and substances she could not identify.
The air smelled strongly of medicinal plants.
Ivelle slowly turned toward Zelos.
"A physician?" she asked cautiously.
Zelos nodded once.
"Go inside."
Her brows immediately drew together.
"Why?"
"Inside, Ivelle."
She froze.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Zelos had called her by her name.
For a moment, she wondered whether she had ever told him.
Then she remembered.
Of course she had.
No.
She had not.
Her heartbeat immediately changed.
How did he—
Zelos was already walking toward the entrance.
Ivelle stood there for another moment before reluctantly following him.
The moment they entered, the smell of herbs became stronger.
A man standing behind a large wooden table lifted his head, and the moment his eyes settled on Zelos, recognition immediately appeared on his face.
"Lord Mortum," the physician greeted respectfully as he stepped forward. "I was beginning to wonder when I would see you again."
Zelos gave him a small nod.
The physician’s eyes moved toward Ivelle.
She immediately became uncomfortable beneath his attention.
The man looked at her carefully.
Then he turned back toward Zelos.
"Are you here for her?" he asked.
Ivelle froze.
Zelos answered without hesitation.
"Yes."
The physician nodded.
"Then bring her over."
Ivelle’s heartbeat immediately accelerated.
Her eyes moved toward the wooden table.
Several unfamiliar instruments had been arranged upon it.
She stared.
Then she looked at the physician.
Then at Zelos.
Then back at the instruments.
A terrible thought slowly entered her mind.
Zelos had purchased her.
He had brought her away from Blackthorn Row.
And now he had brought her to a physician.
The physician was examining her.
Preparing instruments.
And Zelos was standing beside him without giving her a single explanation.
Ivelle slowly took a step backward.
Her face began losing colour as another horrifying possibility formed inside her mind.
Dear gods.
She stared at Zelos.
Then at the physician.
And suddenly, with every terrible thought she had entertained during the carriage journey returning to her all at once, Ivelle wondered whether Lord Zelos Mortum had brought her to the physician for something far worse than she had imagined.
Were they planning to sell her body parts?