9. Ariana

CHAPTER 9

ARIANA

T he brush in my hand scrubs rhythmically against the floor, each stroke removing layers of grime and stress. The repetitive motion is almost soothing, letting my mind wander, though it inevitably circles back to Valen. His imposing figure looms in my thoughts as much as it does in reality.

"How are you today?" His voice startles me, smooth yet carrying that undercurrent of authority I can't ignore.

I glance up, and there he is, towering over me like a golden sentinel. His green eyes seem to pierce through the very fabric of my being. "I'm... I’m well, thank you," I stammer, trying to focus on the floor rather than his intense gaze.

"Good," he says with a faint smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Because I'd like to have you join me for dinner tonight."

Dinner? With him? My scrubbing slows to a halt as I process his words. The casual way he mentioned his 'involvement in destruction' at the party still lingers in my mind. What does he want from me?

His proximity is both intoxicating and intimidating. Every rational part of me screams to refuse, but then there's that inexplicable pull—curiosity mingled with undeniable attraction.

I take a deep breath. "Alright," I finally say, hoping my voice doesn’t betray the tumult inside me. "Dinner it is."

"Excellent." His smile widens slightly, revealing a hint of satisfaction. "Seven o'clock then. I'll have someone bring you appropriate dinner attire."

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving me to grapple with my decision and the fluttering in my chest.

I pick up the brush again but find it hard to concentrate. The memory of his touch when he caught me at the party sends shivers down my spine. There’s something about him—something dangerous yet magnetic—that makes resisting impossible.

The day drags on with its usual chores but with an undercurrent of anticipation now threading through each task. By the time evening approaches, I find myself nervously adjusting my simple dress, wondering what tonight holds.

One of the other maids leads me through the winding halls of Valen's estate, her footsteps echoing softly against the marble floors. As we step onto the veranda, I'm struck by the breathtaking view of Armstrong under the stars. A table set for two sits under a canopy of twinkling lights, casting a warm glow over the intimate setting.

"Here you are, Miss Ariana," the maid says with a polite nod before disappearing back into the house.

Valen is already there, standing with an air of relaxed confidence that makes my heart race. He gestures to the chair opposite him. "Please, have a seat."

I sit down, smoothing out my dress and trying to ignore how out of place I feel in this opulence. Valen pours two glasses of wine and hands one to me.

"To Armstrong," he says, raising his glass.

"To Armstrong," I echo, clinking my glass against his. The wine is rich and velvety, its taste lingering on my tongue.

He sits down and studies me for a moment, his green eyes gleaming in the soft light. "How was your day?"

"Busy," I reply, taking another sip of wine to steady myself. "But interesting."

"I'm glad to hear that," he says, leaning back in his chair. "You seem to be adapting well."

I smile despite myself. "I suppose I have no choice but to adapt."

He chuckles softly. "True enough. Life has a way of throwing us into situations we never expected."

A servant arrives with our first course—a delicate salad with ingredients I've never seen before. The aroma alone makes my stomach growl softly.

Valen catches it and raises an eyebrow. "Hungry?"

"A bit," I admit, feeling my cheeks warm.

He smirks. "Good."

We eat in comfortable silence for a few moments before he speaks again. "Tell me more about yourself, Ariana. What brought you to Armstrong?"

I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. "I was born here. And my family, well…" I think about them, for the first time in a while. They're struggling just as much as I am, but they'd be upset if I spent any time worrying about them.

"They were looking for a better life. They thought they found one, anyway," I say. "Life has been... challenging."

"Haven't we all had our challenges?" His tone is softer now, almost understanding.

I nod slowly. "Yes, I suppose we have."

The main course arrives—succulent meat paired with exotic vegetables—and I'm momentarily distracted by its perfection.

Valen watches me as I take my first bite, his gaze never wavering. "Is it to your liking?"

"It's wonderful," I say honestly, savoring each flavor.

The aroma lingers in the air, creating a momentary distraction from the questions swirling in my mind. I take a sip of wine, feeling a surge of bravery rise within me.

"Valen," I begin, my voice steady despite my racing heart. "What brought you to Armstrong? It's not exactly known for being a welcoming place for outsiders, especially kilgari."

He pauses mid-bite, his green eyes locking onto mine. There's a flicker of something—hesitation?—before he sets his fork down with deliberate slowness.

"Challenges," he says finally, his tone measured. "Armstrong is full of them. But I see nothing but potential here."

I lean forward, curiosity piqued. "Potential? On a planet ravaged by war and poverty?"

"Precisely," he replies, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Where others see ruins, I see opportunity. Armstrong's history is its strength; it just needs the right hands to mold it into something greater."

"And those hands are yours?" I can't help but ask, intrigued by his confidence.

"Why not?" He shrugs slightly, but there's no mistaking the intensity in his eyes. "I've faced worse odds."

I tilt my head, studying him. "But why you? Why would someone like you—wealthy, successful—choose to come here and rebuild?"

He leans back in his chair, fingers tapping lightly against the table. "Not all humans appreciate a man with horns," he admits, his voice carrying an edge that suggests past wounds. "But here, differences can be overlooked if you're determined enough."

I nod slowly, understanding more than he probably realizes. "So it's about proving something? To yourself or to others?"

"Maybe both," he says quietly, looking out at the stars for a moment before turning back to me. "But mostly to myself."

I take another bite of the delicious meal, chewing thoughtfully. His words resonate with me more than I'd like to admit.

"Do you ever regret it?" I ask softly. "Coming here?"

He shakes his head almost immediately. "Regret is for those who lack vision."

I can't help but smile at that. His unwavering belief in himself is both admirable and daunting.

"So what's your vision for Armstrong?" I press on, genuinely curious now.

"To turn it into a place where potential isn't just seen but realized," he says simply. "A place where people can rebuild their lives without the shadows of the past looming over them."

His words strike a chord within me. Despite our differences—our worlds apart—I find myself drawn to his vision.

"I hope you succeed," I say earnestly.

His gaze softens just a fraction. "With people like you around, Ariana, I believe I will."

Dessert arrives, a delicate confection of exotic fruits and creams that looks almost too perfect to eat. Valen leans forward, his gaze never leaving mine as he takes a bite. The intimacy of the moment makes my heart race.

"You seem lost in thought," he observes, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.

I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just... thinking about your vision for Armstrong. It's ambitious."

"Ambition is necessary," he replies smoothly, "especially in a place like this."

I nod, taking a small bite of the dessert. The flavors burst on my tongue, but my focus remains on him. "Do you ever think about what might have been if you'd stayed where you were?"

His eyes darken slightly, and for a moment, I see a flicker of pain. "No," he states flatly. "The past is a trap. It’s the future that matters."

His words resonate with me more than I'd like to admit. I reach for my wine glass but pause when his hand covers mine, warm and firm. The contact sends an electric thrill through me.

"Valen..." I whisper, my voice barely audible.

He leans closer, his eyes intense.

The sound of distant laughter from inside the estate breaks the moment, and he pulls back slightly, though his hand remains on mine. I can’t help but be taken by him—by his presence, his mystery—but fear still gnaws at the edges of my thoughts.

I swallow hard, feeling a mix of emotions swirl inside me—hope, fear, desire—all tangled together in an inexplicable mess.

As we finish dessert, a maid collects our used dishes. Valen helps me to my feet, quietly signaling our time together has come to an end. He leans forward again and this time presses a gentle kiss on the back of my hand.

The simple gesture feels profoundly intimate. His lips are warm against my skin, and it takes all my willpower not to shiver in response.

"Goodnight, Ariana," he murmurs as he straightens up.

"Goodnight," I manage to say, my voice barely steady.

As he walks away into the shadows of his grand estate, I'm left alone with my racing heart and conflicting thoughts. Part of me wants to run after him, to see beyond that enigmatic facade and understand who Valen truly is. But another part warns me to tread carefully—to protect myself from whatever secrets lie hidden in his past.

Torn between these two impulses, I head back to my quarters with a mind full of questions and a heart that’s more uncertain than ever.