Reborn, Its Time To Save My Family And.. My Enemy!
Chapter 180: Fragile And Twisted

Chapter 180: Fragile And Twisted

When Olivia woke up, sunlight streamed through the thin curtains, warming the empty side of the bed. The space where Damon had been was cold. Her hand drifted to it, searching, hoping. but she found only linen. No warmth. No breath. No trace of him but the lingering scent of his skin.

Alone.

The word echoed inside her, sharp and sudden. She lay there for a moment, unmoving, letting the silence stretch, letting it choke her. Something fragile twisted in her chest, but she clenched her jaw and shoved it down. She would not let herself unravel. It was just a moment of vulnerability and nothing else. She did not love him.

She pushed back the covers and rose from the bed, ignoring the dull ache between her thighs, the soreness that lingered on her skin like a memory. Her shift was crumpled on the floor, half hidden under the edge of the bed. She picked it up and slipped it on, the fabric catching slightly against the marks scattered along her body.

Her breath caught.

Faint bruises bloomed on her hips, her ribs, the dip of her neck—ghosts of where his hands had held her. A red mark curved under her breast, another near her inner thigh, and when she turned slightly, she saw the faintest imprint of teeth near her collarbone.

he was gone.

Her fingers traced the mark on her neck, and for a moment, Olivia couldn’t tell if the sting she felt was from the bruise or the sudden tightness in her throat. She swallowed hard and pushed her hair back from her face. No. She would not let herself fall apart over this. Over him. Not after everything.

She dressed slowly, methodically—layer by layer, as if she could hide the vulnerability still clinging to her skin.

A small piece of parchment lay on the nightstand.

She hadn’t seen it before.

Heart skipping, Olivia crossed the room and picked it up. Damon’s handwriting was unmistakable, elegant, slanted, sharp in places like he’d written it in haste.

I didn’t want to wake you.

The royal family had sent a messenger to know about the details. Last night... I’ll never forget it. I’ll be back before you miss me.

—Damon.

A shaky breath left her lips, part relief, part disbelief. So he hadn’t left. He was handling the aftermath of their decision.

Still, the way her heart had dropped when she saw the empty bed, it meant she did not trust him even after giving herself to him.

She folded the note carefully and slipped it into her pocket, as though keeping it close might steady her somehow.

Then, drawing her shawl tighter around her, Olivia walked out of the room to find Shaya. If they want a reply, she would provide it. So that they could never harm what was hers.

Shaya was not in the guest room they have provided her. But two men from the team were there.

"My lady.." she nodded back when they folded their hands.

"Are you looking for madam?" They exchanged glances. She is with the lord of the manor. They are in the garden with other guests." Olivia inhaled a breath, bracing herself for the war as she nodded and walked away.

She had only entered the garden when they found them, Shaya was sitting leisurely sipping her tea as if she was only enjoying the tea. Damon was beside her, Speaking to a man she didn’t recognize. His brow furrowed, arms folded, that same intensity in his posture. But then, as if sensing her, his head turned toward the entrance. Their eyes met across the distance and He smiled, Not his usual smirk. Not a calculated grin, Just something small, Soft and Real.

And that... that broke her more than the empty bed ever could.

Because she knew—if he asked again, she would say yes. Again and again. Even if it meant risking everything.

Even if it meant losing herself to him entirely. Oh god! What had she done?

Shaya must have noticed the change in him for she turned to look at him too. Olivia straightened her shoulders, smoothing her expression into calm confidence as she walked toward them.

Shaya caught her eye first, offering her a slow, knowing smile over the rim of her teacup. Damon shifted slightly in his seat, as though making space for her before she’d even reached them.

Olivia sat beside him, her skirt brushing his leg as she crossed one ankle over the other. The messenger narrowed his eyes, inclined his head stiffly, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

"My lady," he said, clipped. "We were discussing important matters."

"And I’m certain nothing important happens here without me knowing," Olivia said mildly, her voice smooth as silk, sharp as glass.

The man’s jaw ticked again, but he said nothing. Damon didn’t hide his amusement; it danced briefly in his eyes before he looked away.

"What progress have you made, Duke?" the man asked instead, turning to Damon like Olivia wasn’t worth his time. "We’ve been patient. Your results are not what was promised. If you delay further, his majesty will not take it kindly."

At that, all eyes turned to Shaya.

She dabbed her lips delicately with her napkin before setting her teacup down. Her smile was serene but the look in her eyes was calculating.

"I have seen the empire enough and there is nothing with my country needs. We have better goods, flourishing trade and ample grains.," she said, voice soft and utterly dangerous which changed the color of their faces. Olivia wanted to interrupt when the girl turned to look at her. "But there is something i want.." her eyes gleamed. "And only lady Olivia could provide it."

The tension that rippled through the air was sudden, palpable.

"I have heard that her mother was a renowned healer and she had the talent in making medicines. I would like Lady Olivia to sign the deal with me. She will make the medicine for me personally," Shaya went on, glancing at Olivia with what almost looked like fondness.

The man’s lips parted in disbelief. "With all due respect, madam—"

"With all due respect," Shaya interrupted smoothly, "you do not speak for me. I speak for the throne."

He went quiet, reddening slightly.

Shaya’s smile widened just a fraction as she turned to Damon. "As long as I receive the treatment for the plague—prepared solely by Lady Olivia—I am willing to sign the agreement to allow your traders access to our ports. A flat twenty percent tax on all the goods you take from my country. It is lesser than you can ever imagine."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Even Damon looked mildly stunned for a moment, though he quickly recovered, turning toward Olivia with something reverent in his eyes.

Olivia lifted a brow, hiding the tremor of shock racing through her.

"You want me to handle the medicine?" she asked. "But you have never seen me making one or.."

"Then i can see now. We still have time before you leave for Northern.." Shaya stopped, biting her lips. "This is all i want. Either take it or refuse."

Olivia swallowed.

"I..."

"I need to speak to the king about it."