Just as the heavy silence swallowed the room, a voice spoke up from behind Vladimirios's chair.
"My lord, we all know you didn't mean the words you said to my lady," the voice said softly.
It was Tharros, his young dragon, flying out from behind the chair where he had been hiding. His small wings fluttered gently as he landed on the wooden armrest.
Vladimirios turned his head slightly, his eyes dark and tired.
"Mind your business, Tharros," he muttered, not wanting to hear it.
But Tharros only blinked at him with his big, clear eyes.
"My lord," he said carefully, "you hurt her feelings."
Vladimirios said nothing, staring blankly at the floor.
"I thought you brought her here because you wanted to protect her," Tharros added, his voice quiet but firm.
Vladimirios finally looked at him, his face hard.
"And protecting her is exactly what I'm doing," he said sharply.
Tharros flapped his wings once, standing tall.
"My lord, she's coming of age in two weeks," Tharros reminded him, "and you're supposed to mate her properly."
He took a deep breath, not afraid to continue.
"Even with our traditions that allow you to take multiple mates, she is different. She's the one the Moon Goddess chose for you herself. She would not have done that if Freya didn't have an important role to play in your life."
Tharros lowered his head slightly, his voice softer.
"My lord... you should treat her with more respect. And you and I both know... she does have abilities. She just doesn't know how to use them yet."
He hesitated, then added quietly,
"And no, she's not cursed. Why would you say something so cruel to her?"
Vladimirios's strong shoulders sank as he dropped down into the chair, burying his head in his hands.
The weight on his chest felt heavier than ever.
"You don't understand, Tharros," he said, his voice broken and rough.
"I'm trying to protect her... from me."
Tharros tilted his head, watching him sadly.
"When I tasted her blood," Vladimirios whispered, "it drove me mad. I nearly lost control."
He lifted his head slightly, his eyes dark and filled with pain.
"If I stay too close to her... I'll drain her dry in one sitting. She's too fragile. Too innocent. Too pure."
He shook his head slowly.
"Unlike me," he said bitterly.
"I would ruin her. She wouldn't even be able to satisfy the darkness in me... the urges I have."
Tharros hopped closer, speaking carefully.
"My lord... she doesn't have to be what you want in bed. She can be your queen — your light."
He spread his small wings out.
"There are many women out there who can please you if that's what you need. You're allowed to take as many mates as you want."
Vladimirios lifted his eyes to Tharros, his gaze full of something close to sorrow.
But he said nothing.
He just sat there, staring into the emptiness, the echo of Freya's broken voice still ringing in his ears.
Meanwhile, Freya ran back to her room, her heart pounding painfully in her chest.
Lylah was still there, waiting.
The moment Freya saw her, she rushed into Lylah's arms, her tears falling freely down her cheeks.
"Freya! What's wrong?" Lylah asked quickly, holding her tightly.
"What happened? Did he hurt you?"
Freya pulled back slightly, her face red and wet with tears.
"He hates me," she choked out.
"He said I'm useless... that he only brought me here because the Moon Goddess made him."
She wiped at her face clumsily, sobbing harder.
"And he... he knows we're reincarnated, Lylah."
Lylah didn't look surprised.
Instead, she gently wiped Freya's tears away with her sleeve and helped her sit down carefully on the edge of the bed.
"Freya, listen to me," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from Freya's face.
"Don't cry, alright? Don't let his words break you."
Freya looked at her with wide, hurt eyes.
"But Lylah... what am I supposed to do? He doesn't want me. He doesn't even believe in me."
Lylah gave her a small, warm smile.
"If the Moon Goddess chose you, Freya, then you have every right to be here," she said firmly.
"And whether he likes it or not, it's his duty to protect you."
Freya blinked at her, confused.
"What do you mean, Lylah?"
"I mean," Lylah said, taking Freya's hands in hers, "you need to show him you're not weak. Crying like this... it only makes him believe you are."
She squeezed Freya's hands gently.
"If the Moon Goddess chose you, then it means you have a strength inside you, even if you don't see it yet."
Freya sniffled, trying to stop her tears.
"You'll be eighteen soon," Lylah continued, smiling a little.
"And when that time comes, he'll have no choice. He'll have to properly mate you. That's our tradition. That's our law."
She leaned closer, her voice kind but firm.
"Freya... you're lucky. You're chosen. Don't ever forget that. Even if he's too proud or too blind to see it right now."
Freya looked at her, the tiniest flicker of hope starting to bloom in her chest.
Lylah smiled wider.
"You're stronger than you think, Freya. Show him."
Freya slowly stopped crying, the heavy sobs turning into quiet sniffles.
Her heart still ached, but Lylah's steady presence felt like a warm blanket wrapping around her broken spirit.
Lylah pulled her into a gentle hug, holding her close like an older sister comforting a child.
Freya rested her head against Lylah's shoulder, feeling the soft, steady beat of her heart.
"It's alright, Freya," Lylah whispered, stroking her hair softly.
"Let it all out. You're not alone anymore."
Freya clutched onto Lylah's dress tightly, as if afraid she would crumble if she let go.
But little by little, the strength returned to her trembling fingers.
She drew in a shaky breath, then another, deeper this time.
Lylah leaned back just enough to look at her face.
"There you go," she said gently, smiling warmly.
"That's the Freya I know. You're stronger than you believe."
Freya wiped the last of her tears away, her cheeks still damp but her eyes now burning with something else—something fiercer than sadness.
Hope.
She gave a small nod, and Lylah smiled proudly.
"Good girl," Lylah said softly, giving her another squeeze before finally letting go.
"No matter what happens, remember... you have a purpose. You're meant for something greater. And nobody, not even Lord Vladimírios, can take that from you."
Freya sat up straighter, her hands still trembling slightly, but now her spirit had started to mend.
Bit by bit, she felt herself coming back together.