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Chapter 6

Lord Darian strode into the servants' quarters, his presence immediately commanding attention. His eyes softened as they fell upon Aelindra, still bearing the marks of yesterday's ordeal. "Aelindra," he called, his voice gentle yet authoritative.

She approached him, head bowed, her movements stiff from the lingering pain. Darian lifted a package, unwrapping it to reveal a set of exquisite servant's attire - far more elaborate and costly than anything she'd worn before. The silk shimmered in the morning light, its deep blue hue complemented by delicate silver embroidery.

"You've endured much, my dear," Darian murmured, his fingers brushing her chin. "Mistress Helene," he called to the house mistress, "see that Aelindra is bathed and made presentable. It's time she resumed her duties." As Helene led Aelindra away, the elf's heart swelled with a mixture of relief and trepidation, wondering what new challenges awaited her in the wake of yesterday's events.

Mistress Helene guided Aelindra to the bathing chamber, her touch gentle but firm. Warm, fragrant water enveloped Aelindra's battered body as she sank into the large copper tub. Steam rose, carrying the scent of lavender and chamomile, soothing her frayed nerves.

As the house mistress carefully washed away the grime and dried blood, Aelindra's gaze was drawn to her reflection in the water's surface. The Nullstone Collar stood out starkly against her pale skin, its obsidian-like surface catching the light. It seemed to absorb the warmth around it, a constant, chilling reminder of her powerlessness.

Aelindra shivered despite the hot water. The collar's weight felt heavier than ever, its presence a persistent ache in her bones. As Helene's hands worked through her tangled hair, Aelindra closed her eyes, trying to focus on the comfort of being cared for rather than the cold void where her magic once flowed.

Aelindra stood before the polished mirror, barely recognizing herself in the luxurious new attire. The deep blue silk clung to her curves, the silver embroidery catching the light with every movement. Despite its beauty, the dress felt foreign – a stark contrast to her usual simple garments.

She moved through the familiar corridors of Lord Darian's estate, her steps hesitant at first. The other servants' eyes followed her, a mix of curiosity and wariness in their gazes. The weight of the Nullstone Collar seemed to grow heavier with each glance, a constant reminder of her precarious position.

Pushing aside her unease, Aelindra threw herself into her duties with renewed vigor. She dusted shelves, polished silverware, and arranged fresh flowers – each task a welcome distraction from the tumultuous thoughts swirling in her mind. As she worked, she strained her ears for any whisper of news about the neighboring kingdom's threat, her heart racing each time she caught a snippet of conversation.

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Aelindra gasped as she collided with the solid form of Lord Darian, her balance faltering. His strong hands caught her arms, steadying her effortlessly. She found herself pressed against his broad chest, the scent of leather and sandalwood enveloping her.

"My lord!" she exclaimed, her voice a breathless whisper. Her cheeks flushed as she realized how close they were, the heat of his body seeping through the thin silk of her new dress. Darian's piercing gaze met hers, a mix of concern and something deeper, more intense, flickering in his eyes.

Time seemed to slow as neither moved, caught in the unexpected intimacy of the moment. Aelindra's heart raced, torn between the ingrained urge to pull away respectfully and a newfound desire to lean into his touch. The Nullstone Collar felt suddenly heavy, a cold contrast to the warmth spreading through her body.

Aelindra's breath caught in her throat as Lord Darian's hands slid slowly down her sides, leaving trails of fire in their wake. His blue eyes, intense and searching, seemed to pierce through her defenses, seeing past the obedient servant to the woman beneath. She trembled, caught between fear and a surge of desire she couldn't quite comprehend.

Deep within, where the Nullstone's influence couldn't reach, a tiny spark of magic flickered to life. It was faint, barely perceptible, but its presence sent a thrill through her body. Simultaneously, a different kind of heat bloomed low in her belly, an ache she'd never experienced before with such intensity.

"My lord," she whispered again, her voice husky and unfamiliar to her own ears. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. The air between them felt charged, heavy with unspoken tension and forbidden possibilities.

Aelindra's eyes widened in shock as she caught sight of something she'd never seen before - a faint flush coloring Lord Darian's cheeks. The unexpected display of vulnerability on his usually stoic face left her momentarily stunned. His piercing blue eyes, typically cold and controlled, now held a flicker of... was it uncertainty?

"Be more careful, Aelindra," he muttered, his voice lacking its usual commanding tone. He cleared his throat, seeming to struggle with composure - a stark contrast to his typical self-assured demeanor. Without meeting her gaze again, he turned abruptly and strode away, his steps just a touch too quick to be casual.

Aelindra remained rooted to the spot, her mind reeling. The blush, the awkwardness - it was so at odds with the man who had used her body without hesitation in the past. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart race beneath her palm. What had changed? Was it the collar? The public punishment? Or was there something deeper at play, something that had shaken even the unflappable Lord Darian?

Aelindra's hands stilled on the vase she was polishing as familiar voices drifted from the partially open study door. Her elven ears twitched, instinctively focusing on the hushed conversation between Lord Darian and the Inquisitor.

"...journey to the High Church," the Inquisitor's oily voice slithered through the gap. "A demonstration of the elf's subservience and the collar's effectiveness will quell any remaining doubts."

Darian's response was too low to catch, but the word "necessary" floated out. Aelindra's stomach twisted. She inched closer, pulse quickening as she strained to hear more.

"...public display," the Inquisitor continued, a note of cruel anticipation in his tone. "Show them how thoroughly we've broken their kind." More muffled words, then: "...collar's full capabilities." Aelindra's hand unconsciously rose to her throat, fingertips brushing the cold metal encircling it. What 'capabilities' hadn't yet been revealed?