The religious council's main temple was astonishing from every angle. Emily could tell the building was carefully designed to be imposing and magnificent, from the golden cupula to the perfectly crafted statues, pillars and murals. She followed her masters to the altar, lining up with the numerous devotees that requested the gods' favor. It was her first time attending the pompous celebration; nevertheless, just like every Rosettan citizen, she knew the guidelines perfectly. They went through the mandatory rituals, including the litany of the harvest, the sacrifice of emendation and the collective prayers. Afterward, Emily washed herself at the Fountain of the Moon, an emblematic monument of fertility and womanhood. She completed the protocol in silence, gathered with many other young maidens. Some of them looked genuinely happy to become mothers, whilst others seemed reluctant. Emily asked herself if the goddess of the Moon, gleaming distantly in all her alleged glory, could truly rejoice and bless the servitude of her daughters. Perhaps she was afraid to speak up as well.

Emily returned to her bedchamber later that night. She did not even want to take part in the lively celebrations. People were dancing, feasting and getting drunk everywhere across the realm, but all she could do was cry. She had not given up the chase, though; she trusted Lord Arthur's word and prayed his plan would work out as intended. In case he did not succeed, she could find another way to avoid her destiny. For instance, some forbidden books described methods and remedies to prevent impregnation. Regrettably, she would still be forced to cohabit with Lord Leandre and entertain him. Refusing to fulfill such obligations was not a choice for a bound servant, and she did not want to end up freezing to death in a prison camp. She was hoping to run into Jenna to discuss her doubts and fears, maybe even request her advice. But she was summoned to the east wing of the mansion almost right away.

Jade had assigned her a splendid room on the top floor, embellished with numerous bouquets, fine textiles and art pieces. She had a privileged view of the front garden, her own bathroom with an engraved tub, a large closet full of garments, and possibly one of the most comfortable mattresses in the entire realm. She was also provided with plenty of books and delicacies. She suspected those luxuries were not really meant to indulge her, but Lord Leandre, who was supposed to sleep with her for an entire week. Emily was growing more anxious every single hour. However, a whole day passed by and her master was still nowhere to be found. She was about to leave the room and request Jade's guidance when someone finally stepped in. She was instantly relieved to meet Lord Arthur's peaceful gaze.

–Good evening, Emily, I am sorry to bother you. Unfortunately, Lord Leandre is feeling indisposed. He must stay in bed for a couple of days. The doctor is on his way, but I am afraid he won't be able to fulfill his obligations.

Emily almost let out a scream of joy. She wanted to thank Arthur for his brilliant collusion; though she decided to let him conclude with his speech first.

–I originally intended to take care of him and engage in the public holidays. Turns out he has different plans…

He closed the door very carefully; his cheeks were beginning to flush.

–This was not what I expected, and I know you did not want to hear from me at all. But Leandre insists that the winter's Moon Festival is the perfect time to conceive a first-born. Therefore, he asked me to substitute him on his… task. Please do not freak out, I will not sleep with you, I just need to pretend to. I am sorry for the inconveniences it may bring.

Emily took a deep breath and smiled, moved by Arthur's sincere courtesy.

–It is alright. Thank you for everything, Sir. I owe you one. And, please, do not apologize. I cannot deny you are very pleasant company.

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His face lit up for a moment, and Emily caught a glimpse of longing in his regal stare. He took off his fur coat and headed straight to the fireplace, while she sat on the unmade bed.

–What happens if your husband gets better, though?

–Do not worry. Even if he happens to recover prematurely, I bet he will have a blast counting his tributes and cheating on me.

–I am sorry about that.

–Me too.

He turned his back on her and started to light up the fire. He sounded hurt, yet incredibly accepting. Emily wondered if she could ever achieve such a level of tolerance, if she could ever learn to be unfortunate.

–You should leave him. I heard some men are granted permission to divorce.

–It is not that easy, and Leandre would never accept it; it would harm his reputation. I think I told you before, I used to love him deeply when I was a teen. Nowadays, I am starting to believe he never loved me back… It is not so bad, anyway; I tend to focus on the good.

–At least I hope he is a decent lover.

Lord Arthur laughed out loud, equally amused and embarrassed by Emily's natural boldness. She chuckled too, growing more comfortable in his presence. Deep inside, she was excited to spend time alone with him, although she doubted she could resist the temptation to explore his body once again. The intimacy of the scene, the serenity of his company and his undeniable appeal were a dangerous combination. She preferred to stand up and head to the bathroom, avoiding his gaze at all costs.

—I will take a bath now. See you later, master.

–See you later, dear maiden.

Emily decided to use the opulent washroom for the first time, pouring clean water and rose petals into the marble tub. She took her time examining the candles and the objects on the shelves and was immediately impressed by the variety of scents and textures, including soap bars, brushes and bottles of perfume. She also found a wardrobe made of ebony, full of handmade towels and bathrobes, along with a nice set of porcelain silverware. She tried to reach for the teapot on the top, mesmerized by the beauty of it, when suddenly the contiguous vases began to crumble down. Emily did her best to save the set, but some of the utensils ended up crashing on the floor and shattering to pieces. She gasped, worried, and noticed a thin wake of blood in her right foot. A few seconds later, Lord Arthur rushed in, visibly concerned. Emily almost jumped, as she was completely nude and defenseless before his eyes.

–Master!

–Are you okay…? Oh, shit… I am so sorry…

Emily pulled a towel to cover herself; her cheeks were burning. Lord Arthur, for his part, took a couple of steps back, hesitant. He automatically regretted his intrusive entrance, but he still wanted to help Emily. Therefore, he grabbed a jug and some soap from the nearby counter.

–You are hurt. Please, let me take a better look.

–Don't worry. It's nothing. Though I think I just ruined Rosetta's most beautiful tea set.

–You should be locked up for that.

Emily took a few cautious steps and sat on the edge of the bathtub. Lord Arthur leaned down and lifted her ankle very carefully, examining the wound and helping her clean it. Something about his gentle, diligent hands on her skin made her quiver from inside out. In addition, the proximity of his warm chest and the trail of his aroma felt tremendously familiar to her, imbued with her ravishing fancy for forbidden fruit. She held her breath as his fingertips caressed her toes. Only then, she realized his igneous stare was locked to hers.

–You will be just fine, my dear Emily. All you need is a gauze and…

Emily finally reached for his open mouth, ravenous for his touch, and made the words disappear in the corners of his lips. Arthur embraced her tightly, surrendering to his most vehement instincts. He pushed her hard against the tub, kissing her without restraint, as if she was about to fade away between his hands. Afterward, he tugged her hair and removed the towel that concealed her trembling nudity. Emily was enraptured by his energetic response. She could tell how much he yearned to be with her, how much they had missed each other's reactivity. She pulled him inside the bath, forcing him to take off his soaked clothes. His strong torso was full of scars, yet she found it extremely attractive in many ways. He had been blessed with might and vigor, but he was equally elegant and graceful. Emily could not keep her eyes off him, and she certainly did not want to. She decided to save her fears and guilts for a brand-new day. All she knew was that she was meant to share that moment with him, regardless of doom, regardless of the aftermath, and despite being irremediably condemned by fate.