Clara's POV
I laid in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, thoughts spiraling. Lila. I kept thinking about her—about all the little moments we shared. It had been brief, but… I realized I'd felt attached to her, in a way I hadn't expected.
And now? She was a spy. For me. Against me. My chest tightened at the thought. Could she have been working for him? That man… that nightmare. No… worse than a nightmare. Just the thought of him made my stomach churn, fear curling cold and sharp inside me.
A soft knock at the door pulled me from my spiraling thoughts.
"Your Majesty…"
The voice was gentle, unfamiliar. I looked up to see her again—the new handmaiden.
"I'm here to get you ready," she said calmly.
I blinked, realizing the sun was glaring bright through the window. How much time had passed? "Alright," I said, voice quiet, still trembling slightly.
She led me to the bathroom and helped me get dressed. The familiar ritual felt strange, grounding, and yet… comforting in a way I didn't expect.
"Where are we going?" I asked suddenly, realizing I had no idea.
"His Majesty didn't say," she replied evenly.
"Oh," I murmured, swallowing the lump in my throat. I had no choice but to follow, to discover the destination as it came.
"Oh! I forgot to ask—what's your name?" I added, needing something familiar in the sea of uncertainty.
"My name is Auriel, Your Majesty," she said politely.
"Alright," I said softly. So she was going to replace Lila from now on.
Once dressed, Auriel led me down the stairs, past the silent halls of the castle, and out to the waiting carriage. There he was—Ciel, standing tall, eyes unreadable. My heart skipped a beat. Fear, curiosity, and a strange, familiar pull twisted together inside me.
He saw me and then smiled—a warm, gentle smile that sent an unexpected warmth through my chest, washing away the fear and uncertainty I had felt just moments ago. I didn't know why, but he always made me feel… a certain way I couldn't put into words.
I walked toward him, and he pulled me into a tight, comforting hug. "How are you feeling, my love?" he asked softly when he let me go.
"I… I feel fine," I murmured, heat rising to my cheeks.
"Come on, let's go. I'm going to take you somewhere that'll make you feel better—a place you used to love," he said, gently guiding me toward the carriage.
I stepped inside, and he sat beside me, locking the door behind us. As the carriage rolled forward, the scenery blurred past—vibrant, alive, and beautiful. For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to relax.
After a while, the carriage stopped. He opened the door for me, holding out his hand as I stepped down slowly. But then I froze.
This was the exact place I had seen in the illusion—the marketplace, the same cobblestone paths, the same stalls, and that haunting vision of him with the woman who looked exactly like me.
A wave of painful memories I had tried so hard to bury came crashing back—dark, endless, suffocating. I felt myself being thrown into a bottomless pit: drowned, locked in a cold, dark prison, set ablaze, completely alone.
A scream tore from my throat, blood-curdling and raw, as my knees buckled beneath me.
"Serena!" I heard Ciel cry out.
"What's wrong, my love?" he asked, his voice tight with terror and worry.
He scooped me up, holding me close, and guided me back into the carriage. "Let's go… let's go," he urged, his grip firm but gentle.
I kept screaming, every memory stabbing through me, my head pounding, my heart aching. I didn't want to remember, but the pain was too vivid, too real, and it consumed me.
Finally, darkness overtook me. The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was Ciel's face—tear-streaked, helpless, unsure of what to do—as he held me tight, watching me fall into unconsciousness.
I slowly opened my eyes and felt warm arms wrapped around me. Turning slightly, I saw Ciel lying next to me on the bed. My chest tightened as I tried to sit up, but he gently held me down.
"My love… you're awake," he whispered, his voice trembling as he pulled me closer. "Are you alright? You suddenly screamed and passed out."
"I'm fine," I reassured him softly, brushing my fingers over his arms.
Glancing toward the window, I realized the sun had almost set. How long had I been asleep? "How long?" I asked.
"For a long while," he replied softly, his gaze fixed on me. "I was so worried. When you screamed like that… you looked like you were in pain, and I couldn't do anything. I felt so helpless."
I noticed the tear-streaked look on his face, and my heart twisted. Reaching out, I cupped his face in my hands. "I'm really fine," I murmured.
"No… you're not," he said, leaning into my palms. "If you were, you wouldn't have screamed like that. Don't worry, my love. I'll find a solution. I'll get any medicine, the best doctors…"
"No, it's alright, Ciel," I said, brushing my thumbs along his cheeks. "But we need to figure out what happened. I don't want something like that to happen to you again. I can't bear to see you in pain like that."
He pulled me closer, our bodies colliding under the sheets. "My love…" he said, voice trembling, "the thought of losing you… I… I can't…"
"I know," I whispered, holding him tight. "Ciel, the reason I screamed… it was that horrible cave. It felt like a living nightmare. I've tried to suppress every memory of it since I came back… but when you took me there, all the fear, the pain, the hurt… it came flooding back. That's why I reacted like that. I'm sorry I worried you, but I'm… I'm fine. I just… remembered everything awful."
He buried his face in my chest, muffled sobs escaping. "I'm so sorry, my love," he whispered. "If only I had protected you better… been there for you… I keep hurting you. I keep letting you face danger… No wonder you left me. I'm… I'm sorry, sorry."
I pressed my lips to the crown of his head. "No, it's okay, Ciel," I said, though a sharp pang of pain hit my chest at his words. "Don't blame yourself. You tried your best to protect me. You saved me from that horrible place. I'm so glad… so glad you're here, by my side."
He lifted his head, eyes glistening with tears and longing, and before I could even think, his lips crushed against mine. Raw. Hungry. All-consuming.
I trembled as he pulled me closer, his hands threading into my hair, holding me like he couldn't bear to let me go. My own hands gripped him, pressing into his chest, feeling the warmth, the tension, the ache of him that mirrored my own.
His mouth moved over mine with fire, desperate and aching, as if every suppressed emotion, every regret, every heartbreak flowed through this kiss. My heart raced, my chest burned, and tears stung my eyes—but I didn't care. I needed him.
Every ragged breath, every low, needy groan between us spoke of longing, guilt, and relief. It wasn't just desire—it was a lifeline, a confession.
And still… it wasn't enough.