25
~Lisa’s POV
I walked back into the kitchen, trying to keep my head down. My heart was still pounding from what I’d just witnessed with Milo, and my body ached from everything that had happened. I just wanted a mont to breathe... but the mont I stepped in, I knew there wouldn’t be any.
The head maid, Matilda, was already in the center of the room, arms crossed, her face tight with anger.
"Where have you been?" she snapped.
I opened my mouth to explain, but before a word could escape, Tessa’s voice cut through.
"She was probably lounging sowhere, pretending to be sick or weak," she said with a loud, fake laugh.
A few of the other maids giggled. My hands clenched at my sides.
Matilda didn’t even ask for proof. "Take your position!" she barked.
Tessa gave a smug look before strolling off to stir a pot like she owned the whole palace.
I moved to my corner, head low. I tried to keep quiet, to disappear. But just a few minutes later, Matilda called again.
"Lisa!" she said sharply. "It’s ti for the Alphas’ afternoon snacks. You’re taking it to them."
I froze. My throat tightened.
? Why ?
But I didn’t say it aloud. I just nodded, even though my legs felt heavy, like I was dragging chains behind .
Matilda didn’t even spare a second glance. She simply turned away and pointed to the tray. I moved toward the counter, where the silver tray sat, shining like it belonged in a different world than mine.
Neatly arranged on it were slices of ripe fruit, wedges of soft cheese, and slices of golden, spiced bread that still gave off the faint scent of cinnamon. Beside them sat a tall glass filled with chilled juice, beads of moisture running down its sides like tears.
My heart broke a little as I stared at it all.
It wasn’t the food. It wasn’t even the weight of the tray.
It was what it ant.
That tray might as well have been a rope around my neck.
To take that tray was to walk straight back into the mouth of the beast, back in front of the triplets. Back in front of Belinda. The sa people who saw as a joke. As a stain. As nothing.
And now I had to serve them. Again.
Like I was born for it.
My fingers wrapped tightly around the handles. I felt the cold tal press into my palms. My arms trembled, not just from the weight, but from sothing deeper. Dread.
I stepped out of the kitchen.
The hallway felt longer than usual. My feet dragged, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I told myself to be strong. Just serve them, bow, and leave. That’s all.
When I got to the door, I took a breath and knocked lightly.
"Co in," one of them called.
I pushed the door open and entered, head bowed. I didn’t even dare look up as I walked toward them. My hands gripped the tray tighter.
Belinda was there, sitting close to Kael, her legs crossed like she owned the entire palace. Her lips were curled into a smug smile, eyes already locked on as if she’d been waiting.
I stepped into the room, keeping my head bowed low, the silver tray firm in my trembling hands. I focused on each step, willing my knees not to buckle beneath .
I didn’t belong here. Every piece of knew that.
As I moved forward, I could feel the weight of their gazes pressing on , Kael’s cold stare, Damon’s amused smirk, Belinda’s sharpened glare, and Rowan... just watching, always watching.
I turned slightly as I reached the table, angling my body just enough to keep so distance between and them. My fingers reached for the edge of the tray to set it down carefully.
And then, it happened.
A hard, sudden smack landed right on , on my backside.
I gasped, the tray wobbling dangerously in my hands. One of the juice glasses clinked loudly against the plate. I caught it just in ti, stopping it from tipping, but my heart had already jumped to my throat.
Heat spread across my face.
It was Rowan.
He didn’t even try to hide it.
I could feel the way his fingers had lingered just a little too long before pulling away, the way his mouth twisted into a satisfied grin like I was nothing more than a toy.
He sat lazily on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, his arms resting casually behind his head like he had all the ti in the world. His shirt was partly unbuttoned, his chest rising and falling slowly, relaxed. But his eyes, his eyes were sharp, filled with mischief and sothing far worse. Sothing darker. Sothing cruel.
He looked at like I was entertainnt. Like I wasn’t a person at all.
"Don’t act like you didn’t like that," he said, lips curled into a smirk that made my stomach twist.
My mouth opened slightly, but no sound ca out.
I didn’t know what to say.
I didn’t know how to answer that kind of insult, how to defend myself when I was already stripped of my pride.
So I said nothing.
I just stood there, frozen in place. My body was stiff. My skin burned, not from the touch, but from the sha. My face was hot, my eyes stung, and my heart beat so loudly I was sure they could hear it.
My fingers were still wrapped around the tray. I didn’t even realize how tightly I was holding it until I felt the tal edge bite into my palm.
Kael chuckled low under his breath.
That sound, it wasn’t loud, but it felt like thunder in my chest. A cruel, amused sound that said everything without needing words. He was entertained. I was just a show to him. Sothing to mock. Sothing less.
I didn’t dare lift my head.
Damon didn’t even look at . He sat there, relaxed, sipping his drink like I didn’t exist. Like I was just another part of the room. Just a servant in the background. Nothing worth seeing. Nothing worth defending.
But Belinda... She looked right at .
Her smile was wide, too wide. Not kind. Not soft. Triumphant.
Like she’d won a ga I didn’t even know I was playing.
Like she had been waiting for this exact mont, to watch squirm, to see humiliated in front of the people who were supposed to protect ... even if only by fate.
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes shining with fake sweetness. But I saw it. The ssage behind her smile was loud and clear.
This is your place.
On the edge of the room. On your knees. Blushing. Shaking. Small.
And you’ll never be more than this.
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