Auctioned to the Cruel King - Chapter 56: Chapter 56

Kayla’s POV
The water was scalding. Just how I liked it.
Steam curled in the air, curling like ghosts around my limbs, trailing across the mirror until my reflection blurred out of existence. I wished I could vanish with it—melt into vapor, drift through the cracks in the stone walls, and disappear into something nameless. But I couldn’t.
The soap slipped from my fingers and landed with a wet smack against the basin floor. I leaned my forehead against the cool marble wall, closed my eyes, and let the hiss of the water drown out the world.
When I stepped out, my skin was flushed raw, my hair damp and tangled. I wrapped myself in the thick robe and stood before the mirror, staring at the woman blinking back. She looked braver than I felt.
Still, I dressed.
A soft rustling sound behind me—then a knock, followed by the quiet squeak of the door opening.
One of the palace maids stood there. The one from last night. She bowed quickly, nearly losing the tray she held.
“Luna,” she said breathlessly. “The King requests your presence for breakfast.”
I stared at her.
“Sorry?” I asked, blinking once.
She fidgeted, eyes darting between the floor and my robe. “The King… he asked that I deliver this message to you. He’s waiting in the dining hall.”
Breakfast. With him. I thought he didn't wish to see me?
“Tell him I’ll be right down.”
The maid nodded, then curtsied and vanished as quickly as she’d appeared.
I dressed more slowly than usual. Picked a dress I didn’t entirely hate—soft silver fabric with a drape that made me feel vaguely like myself. Not royalty. Not a prisoner. Just Kayla. I tied my hair back and reached for the door.
I opened my door and stepped into the hallway—
And walked straight into Lance.
“Oh—” I gasped, stumbling a step back.
Lance stood there, his knuckles still raised like he’d been about to knock. His expression was unreadable—mask firmly in place. The tension that stretched between us was thick enough to choke on.
My wolf shifted and I smacked her down.
Ugh.
His eyes flicked down, skimming over the gown, then back to my face.
"What—" I started, then caught myself. “I was just coming down,” I said quickly, straightening. My chin lifted almost instinctively. “One of the maids already gave me the message.”
He didn’t move. “Yes. But Vivian’s awake,” he said. “I thought… we’d go see her together.”
I didn’t want to see her. I didn't care much and didn’t want to think about what she said or how much truth she might’ve laced between those remous-dipped words. But I also didn’t want to seem hostile. Or excluded.
So I nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.”
We walked side by side through the corridor, neither of us saying much at first. I could feel his eyes on me, stealing glances when he thought I wasn't looking. But I kept my gaze straight ahead, focusing on the tapestries lining the walls, the way the morning light streamed through the tall windows.
"How is she?" I asked finally, because the silence was becoming too much.
“I don’t know yet,” he replied. “We’ll find out when we speak to her.”
Another silence settled. He didn’t reach for my hand. I didn’t offer it.
When we reached Vivian’s quarters, one of the maids answered the door and bowed low.
“My King,” she murmured. Her gaze flicked to me. “Luna.”
We stepped inside. The air smelled like bitter herbs and fire-smoke. Vivian lay sprawled on a chaise, fingers bandaged and elevated on cushions, though she looked far too amused for someone in recovery.
“Look who came to visit,” she purred, her voice just a touch hoarse but no less cutting. “Royal pity. How charming.”
I reminded myself what she was to Lance.
Her fingers were wrapped in clean white cloth. The damage was visible even beneath the bandages—bruising, swelling.
“How are you feeling?” I asked coolly, keeping my distance near the foot of the chaise.
“Like every single finger on my right hand’s been snapped like brittle twigs,” she said with a smirk. “Even the good ones. My middle and index are completely useless now. Which is tragic, really. I can’t even masturbate anymore.”
Her words rolled through the air like poison smoke. I cringe that she could say that with such a face and at such a time. But Vivian wasn't done.
“Sorry Lance,” she added with a pout. “No more of my magnificent blow jobs. Not until I can bend my fingers again. But hey—I still have a working mouth.”
I stared at her, unimpressed.
If she thought she could break me with vulgarity, she’d underestimated how much I’d already decided not to give her what she wants.
“Okay,” I said, folding my arms, “clearly they didn’t knock the bitch out of you.”
Her eyes widened—only slightly. Then a slow, amused smile tugged at her lips. “Well, well. That might be the first time I’ve heard you swear. Congratulations,” she added flatly. “So, I hear you're the one I’m to thank for notifying Lance.”
“A little too late,” I told her. Then decided to push, to see what I could learn. “I thought you were good acquaintances."
Vivian laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Acquaintances? No shit.” Her voice had lost its lilt, turned steelier now. “But don’t worry—I let you see what I wanted you to see.” Such a worthless way to brag. Especially when I’d seen.
She gestured toward the maid still standing awkwardly at the door. “Hand me that glass.”
“That’s brandy. You shouldn’t be drinking.”
Vivian scoffed. “What are you? The female version of Doctor Falco?”
She turned to Lance. “Tell her to give it to me.”
The maid looked uncertainly at Lance, who gave a small nod. She hurried over and placed the glass carefully in Vivian's bandaged hands.
Vivian sipped it with relish, then looked at me over the rim. “So why are you really here, sweetheart?”
I felt my spine straighten, that new hardness in me rising to the surface. “To see how you’re doing,” I said simply.
“That’s very cunty of you.”
I felt my temper flare, hot and bright.
“Okay, enough,” Lance snapped, stepping between us. “Both of you. Vivian—behave.”
Vivian rolled her eyes.
“The reason I brought her along,” he continued, tone harder now, “given what happened last night, you both had met him. And he now knows Kayla in person. I need to know all that happened while you met, things that when put together, might give us a clue. I've had seekers out in town, but so far no sighting of him. And maybe, just maybe, you both can get along."
Vivian laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. "There is no getting along with this."
“That’s enough!” he growled.
The force in his voice silenced the room.
Vivian’s eyes settled back on me, darker now. And for a moment, in her stare was something, something that made me want to shrink back, but I didn't.
I found myself wishing she'd been hurt worse, and immediately hated myself for the thought. I wasn't that kind of person. I didn't wish harm on others, even when they hurt me. But gods, sometimes I wished I could be that cold, that ruthless.
Even so, some traitorous, broken part, still pitied her. Still wanted to understand why she acted this way.
But I was only here to know the truth. Not to be made a fool of.
“This is done,” Lance said coldly. “She’s my Luna now. Your Luna. That won’t change.”
Vivian snorted. “Right. Until you tire of her too.”
His jaw clenched.
“And for the record?” she continued, eyes flashing. “I begged you to do something. About him. For weeks. And you ignored me. I guess she fucks you better than I did for you to suddenly stop listening to me.”
I felt something inside me snap and I immediately turned on my heels.
“Kayla,” Lance said quickly, reaching for me.
I jerked my hand before he could grab it.
“No. I’ve had enough.”
And then I walked out.