The Duke's Slave Daughter

Daeva’s Hostile Gaze

The morning sun was low over the palace grounds, casting a golden glow over the balcony where Daeva stood. She gazed over the courtyard, her sharp eyes catching movement as a group of knights approached the palace gates. At their center, she spotted her father, Duke Azrael, striding toward the entrance with a figure beside him—a girl, her pale skin marked with smears of dried blood, her white hair hanging lifelessly around her face, and her eyes staring ahead, empty and unfocused.

A massive white wolf stalked protectively at her side, muscles rippling beneath its thick fur, its eyes fixed intently on anyone who dared approach. Daeva’s heart thudded as she recognized the girl.

“Urania…” Daeva whispered to herself, her voice thick with disbelief. “How… why is she back?” Her expression hardened, her fingers tightening against the balcony railing. “After everything, she just… doesn’t die.” She seethed, her jaw clenching in anger. The sight of Urania, alive and back at the palace, reignited a rage she’d thought she’d buried long ago.

By the time Daeva descended to the main hall, a crowd had already gathered, whispering in hushed tones as they stared at Urania. Her father’s voice rang out over the murmurs, introducing Urania to the staff.

Whispers and uneasy glances filled the palace as the servants and staff exchanged concerned looks, murmuring anxiously among themselves about Urania’s sudden return to the duchy. Her appearance was drastically altered—the brown hair they remembered was now an eerie, ghostly white, and her eyes, once warm, glowed an unsettling shade of blood-red. The stains of dried blood still marked her skin, creating a frightening image that left the staff on edge. No one was pleased by her presence; an unspoken fear swept through them, fueled by memories of what Urania had once done and the uncertainty of what she might be capable of now.

Among those most unsettled was Daeva, whose face was etched with discontent. Her eyes narrowed as she watched from a distance, her mind racing with a mix of anger and wariness.

Daeva studied Urania closely, taking in her stiff, lifeless posture and the dullness of her once-vibrant gaze. Urania looked like a specter, her aura cold and unapproachable, her blank expression unchanging even as the Duke introduced her. The wolf beside her let out a low growl anytime someone drew too close.

Her father turned to address the staff. “Make sure Urania has everything she needs,” he instructed, his tone unusually gentle. Daeva felt a surge of anger bubble up at his words.

“I put her through hell, and still, she managed to survive,” Daeva muttered under her breath, glaring at her father’s back. “I cannot allow her to ruin all of my plans.”

The servants looked to Daeva, unsure of how to respond. Her cold stare held them in silence.

The staff was taken aback, shocked to see a side of Daeva they had never encountered before. Known for her kindness and humility, Daeva usually carried herself with warmth and grace, earning the loyalty and affection of those around her. But now, as she watched Urania’s unsettling presence with a fierce glare, the change in her demeanor was startling. For the first time, they saw a hardened, almost hostile expression on Daeva’s face—a side that hinted at a deeper resentment and unease. The realization rippled through the servants, leaving them even more tense, sensing that something dangerous was brewing within the palace walls.

She wouldn’t let anyone forget who was in charge here, no matter what her father intended by bringing Urania back. Her fists clenched, and she spun on her heel, leaving the hall.

-------

That evening, Daeva sought out Urania, finding her standing alone in the darkened hallway near her chambers. Urania’s blank, hollow eyes were fixed on the distance, unseeing, as though she were a thousand miles away.

“So, you’ve returned,” Daeva said, her voice a low hiss as she stepped into Urania’s path. Her sister didn’t even flinch. Daeva’s hands balled into fists as she crossed her arms, her glare sharp as a blade. “Did you think you’d be welcomed back so easily?”

Urania’s gaze drifted, her expression completely vacant, as if Daeva’s words held no meaning. The lack of reaction only fueled Daeva’s frustration.

“Say something!” Daeva snapped, stepping closer, her fists clenched so tightly her nails bit into her palms. “After everything, do you truly believe you can just walk back in here and act as though nothing happened?”

Still, Urania was silent, her expression unchanging. Her blank stare only deepened Daeva’s fury. She felt as though she were speaking to a statue—a stranger in her body.

A chill ran down her spine, and she clenched her jaw, stepping back, disgusted. “Fine,” she spat. “But don’t think for a second that I’ll let you disrupt everything I’ve worked for.” Without another glance, Daeva spun on her heel, storming down the corridor.

---

In need of comfort and reassurance, Daeva made her way to the palace garden, hoping to find her brother Alexis. She spotted him by the fountain, gazing thoughtfully into the water, his usual calm expression shifting as he noticed her approach.

"Brother," she called softly, her voice laced with worry.

"Daeva," he greeted, catching the troubled look in her eyes. "What’s bothering you?"

Daeva took a shaky breath, glancing down as if trying to steady herself. "It’s Urania. She’s… she’s back," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, a hint of fear and sadness seeping through. "I’m so worried, Alexis. After everything she’s done… I can’t help but feel afraid that she’ll cause harm again."

Alexis's face grew serious, his brow furrowing. "Urania? Here? How is that possible?"

Daeva looked at him, her eyes wide and pleading. "I don’t know. But Father… he’s treating her like she’s a fragile thing, like nothing happened. I don’t understand, Alexis." She paused, her voice breaking slightly. "I'm scared, brother. I don’t know what to do. What if she brings more chaos into our lives?"

Alexis softened, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We’ll handle it together, Daeva. I won’t let anything happen to you. Whatever she’s planning, we’ll keep a close watch and protect what’s ours."

Daeva nodded, relief in her eyes and a small grin as she leaned into her brother's embrace. "Thank you, Alexis," she whispered. "I just don’t want to lose what little peace we have left."

---

In the days that followed, Daeva’s unease only grew. She watched from the shadows as Urania is inside the palace, just staying in her room, her expression as lifeless as ever. Her pale skin and blood-red eyes gave her an otherworldly quality, and the massive white wolf that followed her everywhere only added to the unsettling presence.

Daeva’s fists tightened as she observed Urania from a distance, her gaze sharp with suspicion. “There’s something the Duke isn’t telling us,” she thought, her mind racing with possibilities. “Why bring her back now, after everything she did?”

She didn’t trust Urania—not her vacant stare, nor the strange way her father looked at her, as though she held some mysterious power he couldn’t explain. And the wolf, always by her side, made Daeva’s skin crawl with its constant, protective stance. It was as if the creature sensed Daeva’s hostility and would attack the moment she stepped too close.

A shadow passed over Daeva’s face, her eyes narrowing. “I have to find out why Father brought her back here,” she thought to herself, her jaw set with determination. She wasn’t going to let Urania slip through her grasp this time. Whatever game she was playing, Daeva would be ready for it.

Her eyes glittered with a mixture of annoyance and rage as she watched Urania from afar, feeling the weight of her own emotions pressing down on her. She would not let tthe Duke’s actions unravel the life she had built, and she would not let Urania disrupt the plan she has been planning for many years. She done it once, she will do it over and over just to get rid of Urania.

Why can’t she just die and leave this world peacefully? Daeva whispered to herself, her voice bitter with resentment.