The Crimson Serenade: Chronicles of Betrayal and Redemption

A Game of Gazes

In the opulent room adorned with velvets and dark woods, a scene unfolded that could easily be mistaken for a theatrical play. At the center, beneath the heavy chandelier casting warm light, a woman observed the man at the desk with a contemplative gaze. This man, with his sculpted features and cool demeanor, appeared every inch the noble hero of any classic tale.

However, the truth was far from what such a picturesque scene would suggest. The woman, Abiri Emyrys Von Alvarez, once deemed the destined female lead, now harbored thoughts far removed from love and admiration. In her eyes, the so-called male lead, Claude de Alger Obelia, was nothing more than an annoyance—a significant change brought about by the cruel tutor of time and betrayal.

'Regressing truly changed me,' Abiri mused silently, her eyes briefly lifting to the ornate ceiling. It had been two years since she had returned to this point in time, two years to see all her sacrifices and unrequited affections for what they truly were.

'In the past, this man was my everything. I obeyed him without question, stayed despite the rejection I faced, and cared for him when others never wanted to. How laughable,' she thought with a bitter sigh. 'My beloved twin is surely mocking me from wherever she watches, seeing me enslaved to such a pathetic devotion.'

Her reverie was broken by a new, sharp realization, an epiphany sparked by her newfound clarity. 'If he used me as a pawn in his plans, can I not do the same? Turn the chessboard around?'

Abiri's lips curved into a mirthless smile. 'I want to punch him, to shatter this farce. But no, it's better to play the game. This time, I'm not the prey but the player.'

Claude, noticing her distant gaze glare, interrupted her thoughts. "Biri, are you well? You've been spacing out."

"Don't ask that question, especially if you don't care, Claude," she spat, her voice colder than he had ever heard.

"Surely you jest? Of course, I care," he replied, his brow furrowing in confusion and a hint of concern. 'he's really a great actor if I hadn't known better I would've been fooled again'

"You don't. Why would you care about a pawn that you merely throw away?" Her words were sharper than a sword, a direct strike to his facade of concern.

Claude's expression faltered, revealing a crack in his composed exterior. "You are not, never describe yourself as one."

"What a way to lose your composure, dearest," She remarked dryly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She rose from the couch and walked toward him with deliberate, measured steps. Her presence dominated the room, her figure casting a long shadow over the desk where Claude sat.

He froze under her intense gaze, her eyes—once warm and loving—now cold and impenetrable, reflecting nothing but a deep, dark abyss.

Suddenly, she grasped his hair, her grip tight, not caring if she inflicted pain. "Abiri... what's the matter with you?" Claude managed, his voice strained under her unexpected aggression.

"You," she whispered venomously, close enough that her breath brushed his ear, ensuring her words were for him alone. "Your face... it's become intolerable."

Confusion and pain flashed across Claude's features, both from her grasp and from her words. "What?" he choked out, trying to understand the shift in the heart of someone he considered a friend.

(friend... as if )

Abiri's lips curled into a smirk, her grip tightening momentarily before she let go, stepping back to appraise him with a disdainful look. "I wish to punch you right now, Claude, however I'm trying to contain myself. After all, it would be problematic to damage the face of the Emperor of the Great Empire Obelia."

The air was thick with tension, the room charged with the undercurrents of a storm yet to break. As Abiri retreated back to the couch, the distance between them was more than just physical; it was a chasm filled with unspoken truths and newfound resolutions.

Claude is unsure of what's happening but one thing's for sure he hates it

This interaction marked a turning point for Abiri, no longer the lovestruck girl but a grand duchess with her agenda. The game had changed, and so had she. As the scene closed, the dim light of the room seemed to flicker, signaling the onset of a new act in their complex ballet of power, betrayal, and unyielding ambition.