Chapter 3

"That's an illness! Give me your hand. Let me have a check," Elara insisted.

I ignored her and glanced up at my master's bedroom.

The lights had been out for about half an hour.

I pushed myself up, brushed the dust off my body, and headed toward my master's bedroom.

Elara trailed after me, keeping her voice low,

"Hey, where are you going? You're not even done with your punishment yet!" she shouted.

"Got something to take care of," I replied.

Elara grabbed my sleeve, frowning at me.

"What could be so important that you have to run off in the middle of the night?" she asked.

"Just forget it. Come with me, and I'll massage your body with some essence," she said, trying to win me over.

But I couldn't. This was something I could only do at night.

My master wouldn't allow it during the day.

I quickened my steps, ditching Elara.

"It's urgent," I said.

After being punished tonight, I hadn't had a chance to slip him any nightshade dust at bedtime.

Just to be safe, before entering his bedroom, I blew a half-hour's worth of sleeping vapor through the gap in the door.

Once I was certain Master was deeply asleep, I finally opened the door and slipped inside.

He looked almost otherworldly in his sleep, hands folded over his stomach, thick hair fanned out behind him, his face pale and serene.

From a distance, he was like a seductive phantom, hauntingly beautiful.

I straddled him, my gaze lingering on the rosy peak of his pale chest.

The urge to pick up a paintbrush and leave my mark on him, to adorn his flawless skin, grew stronger with every heartbeat.

Bit by bit, I imagined tracing him with pigments.

Plain white, jet black, and vivid red, together, they'd be breathtaking, so beautiful it felt unreal.

But I didn't dare. The risk of getting caught was just too high.

So instead, I nipped and kissed his throat, grinding and sucking until I left a faint mark, then finally let go.

Maybe the ache in my knees had me feeling restless, so I got a bit carried away compared to last night.

After I cleaned him up, I carefully dabbed some alabaster concealing powder over the mark, covering it up before slipping out.

The next morning, just as I expected, Master exploded in fury.

Scalding water flew everywhere as the cup shattered in his hand, the hot liquid seeping through my clothes and burning into my skin.

"Scarlett, you didn't keep watch last night?" he demanded.

"I was on duty, Master," I replied.

His gaze was sharp as a knife, like it was carving straight into my flesh.

"Did anything seem off?" he pressed.

I thought for a moment. "No."

His presence grew more oppressive, but he just kept that cold expression and said nothing.

Master was paranoid by nature, but he never doubted me.

I was the one he'd saved, his most loyal dog.

That's why there were no guards in his courtyard; only I was allowed to keep watch at night.

But after last night, he'd started to have doubts.

"Get some people to keep watch in the courtyard tonight," he said.

I blinked, confused. "Master, is something up?"

He ignored my question.

Instead, he said, "Have them cover a few entrances, but don't let anyone near my door. You guard it yourself."

"Yes, Master," I said.

Later that afternoon, Elara quietly poked her head around the doorway, scanning the room.

"He's not here?" she whispered.

I stood guard at the inner chamber, sword in hand. "He's inside, cultivating."

Elara immediately hushed up, tiptoed over, and tugged me aside, slipping two bottles of medicine into my hands.

"The white bottle's for your knees. The red one you take by mouth.

"Looks like you've got some old injuries, so use it to help you heal up," she said.

I didn't take the medicine. "Do you still hate me for capturing you?" I asked.

Elara's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and annoyance.

"Why are you acting all innocent after getting your way? Just take it already!

"You were just following orders. I should be mad at the guy inside, not you," she shot back.

I slipped the medicine into my pocket and said, "Thanks."

"So, can you let me go? Just let me slip out and pretend you didn't see me," Elara tried to bargain.

I took the medicine back out and handed it to her. "No."

Elara shot me a nasty glare, refused to take the medicine, and stormed off.

That night, I stationed a few people at the courtyard entrance.

I stood by the bedroom door, clutching my sword.

After the fifth owl hoot, the guards outside were all nodding off.

I opened the door and went in.

My master's brow was furrowed. He was clearly trying to stay awake.

But he just couldn't fight off the effects of the strong drug I'd given him.

I reached out and smoothed out the furrow in his brow, letting my fingers linger for a moment.

Then I bent down and pressed my lips to his, savoring the warmth.

"Well, well, someone's getting pretty steamy," a stranger's voice suddenly broke the silence.

I whipped out my blade, eyes snapping up toward the rafters.

Up on the rafter crouched a young man, his dark hair cropped short and sharp.

He was sharp and clean, brows straight as carved stone, eyes tilting faintly at the corners.

His tight-fitting gear made him look tall, lean, and light on his feet, quick as a blade.

I hadn't sensed a single trace of him. His skills were way out of my league.

I watched him warily, keeping my guard up.