I picked at my breakfast, barely managing a few bites. The food looked incredible, but my stomach churned with every attempt to swallow.
An hour later, silent servants collected my barely touched plates. They moved like ghosts, never eting my eyes before disappearing back into the shadows.
The silence felt foreign. No one barking orders, no demands to scrub floors or tend fires. I couldn’t rember the last ti I’d been left completely alone. The quiet should have been peaceful, but instead it left restless, unsure how to fill the empty hours.
I wanted to clean sothing—anything—just to keep busy, but I had no supplies. More importantly, Flynn had been clear about staying out of sight.
After making the bed with military precision, I drew a bath. The hot water embraced my aching muscles as I sank deeper, letting the heat seep into my bones until my fingertips wrinkled like raisins.
Later, I discovered the reading nook tucked into the room’s second alcove. Shelves lined the walls, packed with more books than I’d seen in years. I selected one at random and lost myself in its pages until my stomach reminded it was lunchti.
The collection was massive—I’d have months of reading ahead. This newfound freedom made my pulse quicken with sothing dangerously close to hope.
I avoided the plush armchair that probably cost more than most people’s hos. Despite the long bath, I still felt dirty. Tainted. The elegant furniture seed too pure for soone like .
When had I started thinking so little of myself? A year with Kevin, listening to his constant degradation, had apparently carved out pieces of my soul I hadn’t realized were missing.
A knock at the door made assu lunch had arrived, but when I opened it, the young woman’s hands were empty.
"Yes?" I asked, distracted by her bright smile.
"My lady, the king requests your presence for lunch."
"Lunch? Together?" The words hit like ice water. My throat went desert-dry.
"Yes, His Majesty is waiting in the dining room. I’ll escort you when you’re ready." Her smile revealed dimples that made her look impossibly young.
I hesitated, rembering Flynn’s warnings. But this was the king’s direct request.
The oga blinked expectantly. "Shall we go, my lady? Or would you prefer to change first?"
Heat flooded my cheeks as I glanced down at my simple black shirt and jeans. I had nothing better. "No, let’s go."
Relief washed over when she didn’t sneer at my appearance. I’d braced for mockery—it had beco my default expectation.
We traveled the sa corridor Flynn had led through last night, but turned left at the center garden, crossing to the building’s opposite wing. The maze of hallways made my head spin.
"What’s your na?" I asked, desperate to fill the awkward silence.
"Mason," she replied cheerfully.
She looked about my age, maybe younger. "Hi, Mason. I’m Phoebe." The introduction felt painfully childish, but if she thought so, her expression didn’t betray it.
Her continued smile seed genuine, though I’d grown terrible at reading people’s true intentions. After being surrounded by those who despised for lacking a wolf, for being "bad luck," I’d learned to expect the worst.
"Here we are, my lady."
Massive double doors carved from black oak rose before us, their intricate patterns srizing. When a warrior pushed them open, they released a soft groan.
Voices drifted from within—I recognized one imdiately. My legs turned to lead.
"Go on, my lady. The king’s waiting." Mason’s encouragent carried an edge of anxiety. "Don’t keep him waiting too long." Her pale complexion suggested the king’s mood had been volatile today.
I’d heard how his temper could poison the entire palace’s atmosphere, turning everyone tense and watchful.
"My lady?" Mason’s worried tone snapped back. She exchanged glances with the equally confused warrior.
"Yes..." I forced the word past my constricted throat and stepped into the room. My heart hamred against my ribs as fear crashed over in waves.
The mont I crossed the threshold, all conversation died.
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