Damian's P.O.V-

I was laying on top of my bed in agony. Sheer, disparaging agony.

Anya and I had just locked eyes at the window, and I'd completely forgotten myself. These past few days without her have been by far the worst of my life. I didn't know it was possible to be in that much pain…. On top of which, Father confirmed everything she'd told me at the ball. The whole Desmond estate was being entailed to my brother, Stasi didn't have a fortune for us to live off of…. What did he expect me to do? To go be poor somewhere he didn't have to see or think about me? He was effectively writing me out of the family tree…. And still expected me to submit to all of it. My only role here was to obey without a question, despite how royally doing so would screw me over. I was a puppet; a thing to be used then tossed aside. All illusions of family love and devotion I once held were shattered. I now felt nothing for these people- these…. these monsters. They didn't care a lick for me; I see that now. After all these years, I finally understand….

And then I look at Anya, and I'm reminded that life can actually have a little joy in it. She is my joy. And more than that, she taught me how to appreciate other things, other people. I've discovered so many good, wonderful things since meeting her. This country might be horrible, but amongst all the political troubles there are real specks of genuine true pleasurable moments to be found. I saw goodness and light in this city I never knew was there, despite living here my whole life. That all started with Anya…..

But I'm not like her. I've never known what it's like to have a parent, a father love you so unconditionally. Anya's kind and virtuous because she had that love, and continues to have it through people like Mr. Henderson. She knows what that kind of familial love feels like, and obviously treasures it. I don't understand her devotion to her father because I've never had a relationship like that with my own. How could I expect myself to understand? At least she had him once before; I've never had Donovan- ever. So why should I be loyal to him? What did he ever do to earn my respect and submission? No, I've wasted enough time loving him before….. There's only one person in this city, in this mansion, who I love now. And unlike Donovan, or my mother, or Demetrius… loving Anya is the easiest thing I've ever done. I love her more with each passing day- it's almost frightening. Just when I think it's impossible to admire and cherish her anymore, I look at her once more…

And I'm reminded that life can actually be worth living.

Laying on my bed and staring up at the canopy hanging above me, all I could think about was Anya. Beautiful, kind, sweet, flawless Anya Forger… Everywhere I glanced, she was there. Every breath I inhaled, her essence lingered in. Thinking only of Anya, I thought I might cry myself to sleep yet again, but there was loud knock at the door. My head shot up, though I'm not sure why. I already knew it wasn't her; Anya's knocks weren't as harsh. My lips immediately curled into a scowl when Demetrius stuck his head in, not waiting for me to call out. He peered around before gazing straight at me, not bothering to come inside.

"What are you doing? Get changed! They'll be here any minute," he scolded, making my frown deepen. "Who?" I made the mistake of asking. His eyes rolled unimpressed. "Don't tell me you've forgotten already? The Greys, you idiot! Today's the day you finally propose to Stasi, don't you remember? Come on! Mother and Father are already waiting in the east parlour. Father's got the ring all ready and everything. Put on your suit and get downstairs! And hurry! We're running out of time!" With that the door slammed shut, raddling the curtains a bit. Glaring red-hot daggers at the door, I sat up on my bed indignantly.

Oh yeah, I forgot Donovan mentioned something about that at dinner last night; I skipped breakfast, sick of seeing his heartless, icy face. Stasi and I were already "indirectly" engaged; now it would be official…. I felt sick to my stomach. I feared for a second that I might vomit on the carpet. I hated this. I HATED that woman and this bloody forced marriage. There was literally nothing in it for me; at least other arranged marriages usually provide some benefit to the couple. There was none to be found for me. And even if there was, I didn't want to marry Stasi, or anyone else. I could only ever see myself spending the rest of my life with Anya… Being married to her wouldn't be a constant difficult chore to get through. Marriage with Anya would likely be the easiest, best thing I ever did… if I did. That's when my eyes began to wander out into nowhere in particular thoughtfully. Hey, yeah; we could…. technically get married, couldn't we? But…. No, it's not possible. Here in Ostania you need your parents or guardians' permission to get married, and mine would never give it. Donovan would absolutely forbid the union, and likely stop me from ever seeing Anya again if he knew that I was even considering…..

My head turned at another, softer knock on my door this time. Thinking it was Demetrius come to drag me downstairs, gloom suddenly turned to rage as I leapt off my bed to stomp over to the door. "I'm coming! I'm coming! Can't you give me a…. minute?" My sentence tattered off when the door opened, not to reveal my brother but- to my shock- Raul standing there. He was there, blinking back to me soft-eyed and kindly. I meanwhile beheld him in surprise.

"R-Raul?" "Sir," he removed his hat with a grin. Nervous all of a sudden, I peered from side-to-side to check that we were alone; I didn't want him getting in trouble with the other members of my family for this… impromptu visit.

"W-What are you doing here?" I kept my voice low. "I came to speak to you," he replied, causing my eyes to widen again in surprise. "To me?" "Yes, sir. There is a pressing matter we must discuss. But first, would you mind accompanying me to the library? I think we ought to go somewhere private."

This was all very unusual and I wasn't quite sure how to react. A servant asking to speak to his master, and especially in private, was unheard of; it was simply an unfathomable situation. But I trusted Raul, and more than that, I liked him. If he wanted to converse with me, I was more than happy to oblige, though I couldn't imagine what he'd possibly want to discuss with me about.

Nodding silently, I shut my door as quiet as I could, and then let the older man lead me down the hall and toward this wing's library on the third floor. He opened one of the two dark wood double oak doors for me, letting me go in first. Then he followed me inside, carefully shutting the door behind him. We were the only two in here, which wasn't a surprise; nobody used this library but for Anya and I when we came here to read together. She wasn't here now, which left me a little- or a lot- disappointed. But I tried to keep a calm, collected face for Raul's sake. If he needed my help or assistance with anything, I'd be more than happy to do what I could.

Raul stayed at the door, keeping his hand on the handle to my curiosity. He flashed me a clever, slightly cunning- but also affectionate- look. "Wait here, sir. I'll be right back." My head tilted a little in confusion. "Wait here?" I repeated puzzled. His grin grew in its edges. "Yes, behind those bookshelves if you don't mind. Stay out of sight until I give you the signal." "What signal? Why… Why do you want me to hide?" And his smiled sharpened with abundant kindness.

"Because she's likely to be more honest if she thinks it's just the two of us."