The following week proved to be a whirlwind of new experiences for Aya. She explored the city with Isabel and the others, immersing herself in the vibrant atmosphere and embracing the sense of freedom it offered. Aya found herself growing closer to Isabel and the rest of the family, this week Aya began to question the validity of the negative stories that had surrounded the family, until now the Parada family members and servants didn't show her anything but respect and kindness, in addition to that the Fray and Parada family don't seem to do anything wrong they are helping Iskar city citizens and they don't use their power to do evil as the rumors propose.
Currently, and once again, Aya found herself seated across from Fray at the breakfast table, surrounded by familiar silence. Since the day Aya had asked Fray to remain silent, their breakfasts lacked any conversation. Aya became increasingly curious about this mysterious man and desired to engage in conversation with him. Despite her numerous attempts to initiate a discussion, Fray remained disinterested and unresponsive. His movements were minimal, his focus seemingly elsewhere as if lost in his own thoughts.
Aya's gaze lingered on Fray's emotionless face, her thoughts momentarily conflicting within her. She reminded herself that her curiosity about Fray didn't equate to romantic interest; she had already made a promise to Luke, and her heart belonged to him. Aya let out a quiet sigh, realizing that perhaps it was best not to engage in conversation with Fray after all
Aya, having finished the uncomfortable breakfast with Fray, rose from the table and made her way towards the exit of the dining room, accompanied by her maid, Emma. However, just after exiting the room at the end of the corridor, Aya's path intersected with that of Mia
Mia's appearance immediately caught Aya's attention. Her usually composed and cheerful demeanor seemed replaced with a sense of unease. Mia's eyes darted around nervously as if searching for something or someone. Aya couldn't help but feel concerned, sensing that something was amiss.
"Hello, Miss, Mia. How have you been?" Aya greeted her, trying to project a warm and friendly presence.
Mia's response was odd, her voice betraying a hint of anxiety. "Oh, Aya, it's you. Yes, I'm... I'm fine," she replied, her words faltering slightly.
Aya's observant nature picked up on Mia's strained behavior. Something didn't seem right, and she couldn't simply dismiss it. Concern etched across her face, she took a step closer to Mia, gently placing a hand on her arm.
"Miss, Mia, you don't seem fine. Is something bothering you?" Aya inquired with genuine concern, her voice filled with compassion.
Mia hesitated, her eyes flickering nervously. "no, Lady Aya, I... I'm fine, really. It's just... I'm a little tired, I have to go now. Let's catch up later Lady Aya," she said hastily, attempting to pull away from Aya's touch.
Aya's instincts told her that Mia was hiding something, but she didn't want to push too hard. Instead, she offered a reassuring smile and nodded. "Of course, Miss, Mia. Take your time. But remember, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."
"Thank you, Lady Aya. I appreciate your kindness. I'll remember that," Mai replied, before quickly turning away and hurrying off, disappearing down the corridor.
Left standing in the wake of Mia's abrupt departure, Aya couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Something troubled Mia, and Aya vowed to herself that she would uncover the truth and offer any support she could provide. She made a mental note to reach out to Mia later, to offer a listening ear and a comforting presence.
After the unsettling encounter with Mia, Aya continued with her daily routine, trying to put the mysterious encounter behind her. She engaged in her studies, spent time with Isabel, and participated in various activities throughout the day. As the sun began to set, Aya made her way to the training yard, her focus shifting towards honing her sword skills.
As the golden hues of the setting sun bathed the training yard, Aya stood at its center, her sword gripped firmly in her hand. Her muscles tensed, poised for action, as she prepared to engage in her daily training ritual. A cool breeze brushed against her skin, mingling with the anticipation that coursed through her veins.
With focused determination, Aya began her training routine, moving through a series of graceful yet calculated motions. Her feet glided across the ground, each step purposeful and precise. The rhythmic sound of her sword slicing through the air resonated, blending with the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds.
As Aya swung her blade with terrifying force, her mind fully immersed in the rhythmic flow of her training, a flicker of movement caught her attention, sending a shiver down her spine. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a figure darting nervously toward the foreboding back garden, an unsettling sense of urgency emanating from their every step. Aya's instincts, tinged with a mixture of curiosity and growing dread, compelled her to abandon her sword and pursue the mysterious figure.
Silently and swiftly, Aya stealthily trailed behind the figure, her heart pounding in her chest, her breath quickening as she ventured deeper into the secluded abyss of the back garden. And what she discovered there plunged her into a realm of terror and horror.
Lying motionless on the cold ground, Mia's frail form lay bathed in a pool of crimson, her body a canvas of agony and despair. The sickening scent of iron permeated the air, mingling with the overwhelming stench of fear. Aya's eyes widened in sheer terror, fixated on the deep, gaping wound that marred Mia's fragile chest, a haunting testament to unimaginable violence.
Standing beside Mia's lifeless body loomed two ominous figures. The first, Fray, exuded an aura of darkness, his tall and sinewy frame casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to dance malevolently in the dim light. His obsidian eyes, devoid of warmth or compassion, pierced through Aya's very soul, chilling her to the core. In his bloodstained hands, he clutched a sinister, gleaming sword, an instrument of unfathomable cruelty.
By Fray's side stood the mansion butler, Montaser, an enigmatic figure whose stoic expression belied a well-hidden malevolence. His presence seemed to exude an icy coldness, a palpable void of empathy and humanity.
A strangled gasp escaped Aya's trembling lips as her horrified gaze met Fray's chilling stare. The weight of the scene bore down on her, her body paralyzed by a chilling mixture of terror and disbelief, ensnared in a web of unspeakable horrors.
