Chapter 6: Regret, Butterflies, and Life

Anayla’s POV:

 

Anayla was currently laying in her bed in shock. What… What even happened? Her mind was in turmoil. Her face would burn every other second as she remembered the events that had transpired just a few minutes ago. Not to mention, as if entirely unbothered by all of this, Raven was now back quietly working at her desk. Damn you… At least if she was working she would be able to keep her mind off of what had just happened. She burrowed deeper into the bed, cocooning herself in the blanket and hiding from Raven’s sight. 

 

How do I talk to him now… She had tried making conversation with him, but every time their eyes met she blushed furiously and stuttered so bad she couldn't get a word out. Thankfully, Raven didn’t push her too hard, but that in itself caused a flurry of doubt in her mind. What if he doesn’t like me anymore… What if he thinks I’m a vulgar woman… She let out a long frustrated groan and rolled away from him again.

 

“Uh… Anayla? Are you alright?” 

 

“O-Oh, ummm, yes I’m fine.” I forgot… She wanted to cry. Raven wouldn’t leave the room for even a second. It was excruciatingly stressful. She couldn’t use any of her normal methods to destress, since they were all far too disgraceful. Usually she would hit herself, or sometimes, when that hurt too much, a pillow. There were times when she would throw things, smashing vases and pottery, making sure afterwards to get new ones, while feeling guilty about it. And there were the times when she became really stressed, she would cut herself, savoring the pain that cut through the crushing weight on her chest.  

 

That wasn’t even mentioning that she had openly cried like a child in front of him. Do I have any dignity left or has it abandoned me completely? Truly, there was nothing left. The image she had so desperately tried to project of a calm, rational, well-put together Duchess had crumbled entirely. No, it truly wasn’t fair to say it had crumbled. Anayla had been very used to putting up a facade, but only for short durations. After all, her interactions with her maids and servants were usually short, so there was never any need to put on a prolonged act. This, combined with the… unusual… circumstances meant that her ability to act composed had been wiped away. And Raven… Why is he so aggressive… It really wasn’t fair. Yes, life was never fair. She felt a trail of sweat begin to soak her clothing, which was, thankfully, a new ivory lace and silk nightgown of the proper size. 

 

Wait… am I stuck…? It seemed that all her rolling around had trapped her in her blanket. No, oh god please no. A horrific scene of Raven having to dislodge her from her blanket cocoon filled her mind. She squirmed violently, trying to unwrap herself, but it all seemed to be in vain as she could feel the blanket constrict even further. To top it off, a wave of dizziness hit her. This is too much physical exertion. And then the cherry on top… GROWL. Her stomach decided to make its status as empty known to everyone, loudly. 

 

“If… If you are hungry, Anayla… would you like to have lunch?”

 

“...”

 

“Sorry.”

 

She heard Raven open the door and request a servant to bring lunch. “Solid food this time, she’s awake so she can eat.”

 

She heard the muffled sounds of a chair being moved across the carpet and her table being rearranged. No, stop, leave, why! At least let me free myself in privacy! Tears started to gather in the corners of her eyes

 

She tried to free at least one of her hands, but it seemed to be going nowhere. There’s nothing left. She gave in to despair. It’s all over. It was either asking Raven for help or trying her best herself while Raven watched. In other words, there was no good option. Which is the greater evil. If she asked Raven, she was sure he would help, but what if he laughs at me… If she tried to free herself, there was a chance she would do it quickly and save herself the humiliation of needing help. But, if it took too long, she would have to end up asking Raven for help regardless, which meant even more humiliation. I’ve got to gamble everything on this!

 

She sucked in her gut as much as she could and hunched forward, creating a slight opening where the blanket wrapped tightly around her upper body. She wormed her hand through, and like a butterfly’s wings piercing through and feeling the fresh air, her hand was free! The cooler temperature of the room providing a refreshing feeling. She felt around, trying to grab a corner of the blanket. I can’t find anything! Although she could feel the creases in the blanket, there was nothing to pull on.

 

Rolling over again, she did everything she could to give her hand just another inch to work with. Finally, she felt a corner of the blanket near her back. She could reach it with just the tips of her fingers. “ARGGGHHH!” With fierce determination, she reached out and grabbed the corner. With all the strength left in her frail body, she pulled. 

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Narrator POV:

 

It was beautiful. The glory with which her hand pierced out of her burrito like state would leave spectators slack jawed with awe. It was like a very chubby caterpillar had finally finished transforming into a butterfly. The hand, as if it was a creature with a mind of its own, felt around for a fault in the impregnable fortress of fine wool and silk it had found itself trapped in. Yet it was all for nothing. The cocoon was like a stone wall, proving unbreakable and impenetrable for the freshly born butterfly. What could the poor thing do? It needed help. 

 

As one watched, the mysteries of life revealed themselves one by one in their infinite intricacies. A gasp of excitement echoed out from the depths of the fibrous cage as the hand seemed to have finally found a weakness. “ARGGGHHHH!” The cry of a soldier on the battlefield, one filled with power and determination. It was glorious! 

 

This… this is the glory of life… A violent jerk and a shout. It was chock full of hope, perhaps the same hope a broken man has when praying for a miracle. But it seemed that the butterfly, blinded by emotion, had fallen into a trap. Indeed, anyone would shed a tear. All the butterfly had done was tighten the net around itself. There was no escape. The fall from hope to despair… Oh pitiful creature… oh how pitiful… This sweet child is not destined for freedom…

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Anayla’s POV:

 

But the corner she grabbed promoted a false hope, it too was trapped. NOOOOOO! WHY! She let out a frustrated cry and gave in to her emotions, thrashing around on the bed with a strength unbefitting of someone who had recently been bedridden. She bit down into the sheets like a dog and tried to tear them apart. She lashed out with her limbs at her confines as anger overtook her. She threw her body around to and fro without a care in the world, doing anything she could to free herself. It’s all over… She could feel it fading, her strength, her life. It was draining from her body. 

 

“...would you like some help?” DAMN YOU RAVEN! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! She wanted to scream at him. Just a simple question had sent blood rushing to her face and her knees weak. Spell! He cursed me! That’s why I feel like this! That’s why I let him… I let him… that’s why I let him touch me there… That’s right! He cursed me! As she thought back, memories of the way Raven’s hand had pleasured her, the hypnotic feel of his hand between her thighs flooded back to her. Her pale face had now become tomato red, and a familiar throbbing began from in between her legs. 

 

Unfortunately for Anayla, during her thrashing, her body had ended up precariously close to the other edge of the bed from him. It was not far enough for her to feel it, but a single roll in the wrong direction would be enough to send her toppling over. She was upset, and understandably so, and in her heightened emotional state, she rolled away from the direction of the voice as a form of revenge. In other words, she rolled off of her bed. 

 

THUD. “owwwww.” Another pitiful cry echoed through the room. As Anayla lay there, with a single hand sticking outside of her blanket/cocoon, she contemplated the decisions she made that lead to her current situation. Where did it all go wrong…

 

She felt herself being lifted on the ground and put back onto the bed. She felt Raven sit down on the bed beside her. “Would you like some help now?” 

 

“...” 

 

“...listen…Anayla, I’m truly sorry about what I did, I… I didn’t mean to take advantage of you like that.” A pause. “So… mmmm… sorry Anayla. The food is here, and I was hoping, I was hoping you’d eat with me… if it is… alright… with you.” 

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Raven’s POV:

 

“Mm… so… how are you feeling right now.” Raven grimaced, hiding as he leaned down to take a bite of the steak in front of him. It was a simple slab of meat, cooked medium rare, with a light sauce around it and a smattering of vegetables. The seasoning was a bit off, but it was fine considering the situation. 

 

“I’m feeling fine.” This was pretty much the maximum number of words he could get out of her. She had stared vacantly at the plate of food in front of her, only eating after Raven had asked her what she was doing. She made no reaction as she ate either, leaving Raven wondering if the food was not up to her standards.

 

“So… about the servants… Do you intend on keeping them?”

 

“...”

 

“Anayla?”

 

“...di- did you say something? So- sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

 

“No, no it’s fine.” He flinched as the knife he was using to cut into the meat screeched against the plate. He gave a sigh and felt himself drifting into thought. The funds had arrived, it would last the Duchy a few weeks at most, as most of it would be be spent making much needed repairs to the degraded manor. Of course, he was not stupid. He knew the wisest option was to pay off as much debt as possible before interest compounded again, but really the mansion was falling apart. 

 

He cleared his throat. He was in a difficult situation. Anayla was most likely not physically stable enough to manage the new servants or the mansion yet, but Raven also had his work from the Blackheart Duchy to do as well. After all, he had only cleared his schedule long enough for a month-long absence. The journey here took slightly over a week after he had run his horses into the ground, and he had already lost almost another week. Factoring in the time back, which was another week ideally, he would have roughly only a week to help Anayla. The problem that arose was the fact that Anayla wouldn’t recover for at least another month on account of all the blood she’d lost. 

 

He watched her spindly arms tremble from fatigue as she tried cutting her steak. It looked like she was sawing through a brick. Raven tried cutting a piece from his own, only to find it glide through like it was butter. He popped a piece into his mouth and chewed, paying more attention to Anayla who had finally gotten the knife through hers. The sweat that beaded on her forehead proved that this was no act on her part. 

 

After just a few bites, she pushed her plate away. The vegetables on her plate lay untouched. The only thing it seemed she finished was the glass of water that the servants had poured when setting the table. 

 

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She’s too thin, and she doesn’t have the luxury of taking it slowly. The problems would only begin to pile up once the new servants arrived. Raven stood up and moved his chair around the table so that he sat perpendicularly to Anayla. She glanced at him, but then quickly averted her eyes to the other side of the room. Raven said nothing, even though he felt a little hurt at how openly she avoided him. 

 

After cutting a bite-sized piece from Anayla’s steak, he held it up to her mouth. Her eyes flitted to the fork and then to his and then back to the fork. “Eat.”

 

“I- I’m not hungry.”

 

“...”

 

“I told you I’m not hungry.”

 

“...”

 

“...” They locked eyes in a battle of wills. Anayla and Raven’s faces remained like stones. Neither blinked. However, although Raven had won all previous encounters (a fact of which he was not aware of), he was currently at a disadvantage as the fork he was holding out near her mouth began to strain his shoulder. It also seemed that Anayla had no intention of budging on this matter. She could see the realization of it in his eyes, as a shy yet confident smile emerged on her face. Perhaps if it were one of his brothers, they would have bowed their heads down in defeat and surrendered valuing the honor in a battle well fought. Raven, however, had no intention of doing so. He would play as dirty as he needed too to get what he needed. 

 

“You are the most beautiful woman I have laid eyes on. Your skin resembles the pure white of snow and your eyes gleam like jewels.”

 

Anayla smirked, although the compliments he gave her had succeeded in turning her whole face a shade similar to her eyes. “D- Don’t the Blackhearts know that repeating compliments takes away from their value?” She said, puffing out her chest. 

 

His forehead creased. I refuse to lose here, but must I stoop that low…? It seemed there was no other option, other than the one he had rejected of sticking in while she talked, but he wanted her to choose to take it in her mouth herself, even if by an underhand method. He took a deep breath. “Ah, are you giving up?!” She blushed even deeper and cleared her throat after realizing how excited she had become. “It’s only natural. I have served as a Duchess for 5 years. Despite my enjoyment of your company, I cannot allow myself to be fed.”

 

Raven steeled his heart and tensed his leg muscles. He would need the blood to flow somewhere once his attack began. 

 

As Anayla made to get up from her chair, Raven held her down. Conviction steeled his eyes. 

 

“The way you moaned when I was massaging your scalp was lustful beyond words. The way you kissed me, rubbed your tongue against mine. I-”

 

“STOP! O-Ok Ok, stop, stop please.” Raven paused as he continued staring at her face, making sure to hide the now screaming pain in his extended arm and shoulder. Despite begging him to stop, she didn’t eat the food on the fork. It seemed she was trying to buy time. 

 

“I can still remember the way you writhed in my arms when you clima-MMMF!” She clapped one hand over Raven’s mouth while biting down hard on the fork. She chewed vigorously, her cheeks bulging up from the size of the piece. She looked like a hamster, her cheeks oscillating as she desperately wrestled with it.

 

She gazed down at the ground now, unwilling to look at him. Although it still hurt as he kept his arm extended until she swallowed, it was also greatly pleasing to be able to feel the heat from her face radiating onto his hand. He finally put his arm down, relieving his shoulder of its tension and watched her do her best to make an angry and upset face. 

 

He gazed at her, zoning out slightly, trying to relieve the ache in his shoulder and arm without making any obvious movement. “Can I go now.” Without responding, Raven cut up another piece, this time slightly smaller, and held it out for her again. 

 

“...”

 

He raised one eyebrow. “Should I continue…?” 

 

She leaned forward and daintily bit down and chewed. “At least let me eat by myself…”

 

“Can you?”

 

“...” 

 

After she finished less than a third of the steak, she turned her head away. 

 

“I’m full”

 

Raven didn’t say anything. He put down his fork and instead pulled her wrist up, circling it with his index finger and thumb. Then he tried it with his own hand, showing her that he couldn’t finish the circle.

 

She gazed at him haughtily. “...so?” 

 

“Do you want me to remove your clothes and show you or would you like to keep them on?”

 

“...you wouldn’t dare.” 

 

Raven stood up abruptly sending the chair he was on flying back.

 

“OKOKOK I’LL EAT!” 

 

Half of her steak was left. After struggling with the food in her mouth for a couple seconds she swallowed. She gazed at him pitifully. “I can’t eat any more.”

 

“Eat more.”

 

“It’s too much!” 

 

Raven quietly evaluated her. Her stomach now bulged under her nightgown. The sauce had made a mess of her mouth and had even stained a bit of her nightgown, for which Raven felt a little bit of guilt. I should get her some new clothing, she needs new… practically everything.

 

“Alright. You are going to need your energy for this. We have much to discuss and documents have begun to pile up.” 

 

“First of all, I need to know the servant distribution. They will arrive in a few days. How much can you tell me about the way the servants were organized in the Lupierze Manor?”

 

Anayla cleaned off her mouth as she tried her best to remember.

 

“Well, the main servants…”

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Authors Note: Hey Everyone, I've been a bit busy since school started which is why this chapter took a while to make. I most likely can't keep up with the update schedule anymore, but I'll try my best. Anyway, thanks for reading!

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