MAEVE’S POV
I knocked twice on the Luna’s doors before I walked inside.
Theresa was clearing away the breakfast tray when I sauntered in. She gave a quick glance before lowering her head, trying to make herself inconspicuous.
"Good morning, Theresa," I greeted her good-naturedly. Then, I turned to Lydia.
As expected, she looked sour. Pale. Hateful. She especially looked pissed to see .
I ignored her anger, forcing my tone to sound chipper.
"And how is my favorite patient doing today?"
A question like that was sure to piss Lydia off further—and I was counting on it. She ignored completely and turned to Theresa instead.
"That’ll be all, Theresa. Take the rest of the morning off."
"Yes, Luna." The maid bowed quickly and hurried out of the room, taking a basket of linens with her.
"So," I clapped my hands together and took a seat at the edge of the bed, "should we kick the morning off with a dose of dicine? Or do you wanna start by telling how you’re feeling today?"
Lydia stayed quiet for the longest ti. The hands gripping her sheets were tight, her knuckles pale and the visible veins under them pulsing.
When she finally forced herself to speak, her voice ca out hardened and poisoned with venom.
"As much as it pains to be the only one that sees right through you, I know the day will co when everyone else will finally see you for what you truly are."
"I’m sorry, Lydia, but I don’t think baseless accusations are a part of today’s treatnt schedule."
"From the mont you stepped foot back in Ash Creek, everything about you has been a lie. Just like yesterday," she hissed, ignoring my jab. "You may have fooled everyone with your fake tears and carefully crafted lies, but you can only fool people for so long. Sooner or later, your true colors are going to co out, and everyone will see what I see—a lying, scheming whore." Her voice dropped, bitter with fury. "I should have ended you all those years ago when you were nothing but a trembling, irritating thing beneath my feet. You think you’ve grown stronger, don’t you? But you’re still that sa pitiful girl, desperate for scraps of affection, holding on to delusions of revenge. You’ll always be that girl, Maeve. That weak, trembling thing."
"Maybe that was your greatest mistake, Lydia—not killing when I was weak and pliable under your feet. You had every opportunity, didn’t you? But instead, you chose to toy with . You tortured slowly. You made tremble, cry, beg. And you thought I’d stay that way forever." I let out a soft laugh, the kind that was almost pitying. Almost. "Only a fool tortures soone for years and expects no reckoning when they let them live. This isn’t revenge, Lydia. No, no. This is inevitability. This is what happens when you fashion a monster out of your own hands and forget to chain it." I grinned, slowly drinking in the horror that paled her expression. "You say I’m still that desperate little girl? Well, maybe. Or maybe... I simply learned from the best. You taught everything I know. So if I’ve beco a lying, scheming whore... then I suppose you should take it as a complint." Deliberately, I leaned forward to adjust the covers on the bed.
Lydia flinched, recoiling instinctively, as though I might lunge at her with shears again.
I smirked in amusent. "Relax, my Luna. You’ve got no more hair left for to cut."
"You’re even worse than I thought!" she spluttered. "So, you do admit it then? You did cut my hair off and knocked out with a dagger."
I laughed, unbothered. "Of course it was . Who else could it have been?"
"I’m going to tell Ivan," she threatened, struggling to rise from the bed, only to find her swollen legs too heavy to carry her. Serves her right for stomping around yesterday like an Elephant.
I rolled my eyes. "No one’s going to believe you, Lydia. You’re insane, rember?"
"I’m not," she snarled. "You’re the one who’s a lying bitch. You’re the one who has gone insane!"
"Yes," I agreed with ease. "I am insane. Delightfully so. And I strongly suggest you don’t test the depths of it. Because if you think I’ve done you dirty now, oh Lydia... you truly have no idea what it ans to be deranged. This is nothing. By the ti I’m done with you, you’ll be on your knees, begging to stop. But I won’t. Because you and I both know—you don’t deserve my rcy."
"You won’t get away with any of this," she cried, desperation bleeding through the edges of her fury. "Very soon, Ivan is going to see you for what you truly are."
"I doubt that," I scoffed. "I’d much sooner wreck everything he holds dear before he gets the chance to figure it out."
"So that’s your grand plan? To wreck my son?"
"Yes, Lydia. Among other things." My lips curved into a smug smile. "But don’t worry—I’ve got especially big plans for you."
"If you try to kill , Ivan is never going to forgive you." She raised her chin in a feeble attempt to sound defiant, but all she did was expose how terrified she truly was.
Typical Lydia.
Even when cornered, she still wanted to be the one calling the shots.
It hurt her pride too much to admit that, for once, the odds weren’t in her favor. That no one was coming to save her.
Not Ivan.
Certainly not Serena.
"How many tis do I have to say this for it to sink in?" I sighed, every word asured, my body inching closer with each one.
I wanted her to feel it—to feel the way I used to feel her cruelty years ago, when she ruled my world with fists and abusive words.
"I have no plans to kill you," I whispered, running my fingers slowly down the curve of her neck. "More than anything, I want you to live. So I can pay you back for every ounce of hurt you caused —all those years ago."
"I’d rather kill you first before you get the chance," Lydia stated coldly. I hardly noticed her reaching beneath the covers.
Before I could fully register her movent, she pulled a dagger out from under the sheets and lunged straight at .
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