❝ WOULD YOU HAVE FOLLOWED ME TO THE LEFT OF ELYSIAN? ❞
As heiress to Teyvat's greatest trading company, you sat at the summit of nobility and wealth. Thus at the age of twenty, you were arranged to marry someone befitting your wealth and status- wh...
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SNEAKING AROUND YOUR fiancé's back to spy on his every move might be rather excessive but the animosity between the two of you was too great to ignore. Until you could be sure that he was on your side, it felt like it was the necessary precautionary step to take.
"So? Would you like to work for me?" A smile laced your lips as you allowed your hands to fall to the tabletop, removing your chin from the palm of your hand. "If you choose not to, I suppose I can find someone else to replace you as a maid."
Sonia gasped, shaking her head. "N-No...! I'd... I'd be honored to..." Her head turned down, shame burning into her cheeks in dishonoring you by not jumping at the opportunity to accept your kind offer.
"Good. Starting today, you will be working for me. Monitor my fiancé's every movement and report to me alone. If I hear word of your betrayal, I will personally make sure you never find a job ever again." You warned, shooting her a cautionary smile to which Sonia nodded frantically.
"During tonight's banquet, I want you to keep a close eye on my fiancé. Keep an especially close eye on the people he is interacting with. I want their names and affiliations. Is that clear?" You advised, pushing away from your half eaten breakfast and rose from your seat, eyes fixed on Sonia. She nodded once more, gulping nervously.
Pleased with her response, you exited the dining room to return to your room in order to recuperate after breakfast, feeling rather queasy with the way the congee and eggs sat in your stomach. Each step felt heavy, each breath that you drew tasted like metal. You hurried to your room, frantically rushing towards the door. Your hand grasped the handle of the door to your room tightly, steadying yourself against the door. Heavy breaths elude you, feeling your stomach churn unhappily. Bile rose to the forefront of your throat, threatening to make an appearance.
"Young Master?"
You froze, hand lifting from the door handle to cover your mouth as you pivoted around to face Wenling who's arms and legs were covered in bandages. There was a leather brace over one of her legs, presumably broken. Your eyes widened at the sight, eyes glossing over her injured appearance— reminding you whose fault it was for your closest friend to end up in such a disabled state.
