[redith].
Xamira’s fingers tightened.
"I have a mission for you," I said to her.
She didn’t hesitate. She simply nodded and straightened, her posture attentive, and her eyes fixed on as if waiting for a command she had already accepted.
"Tell , my lady," she said quietly.
I studied her for a mont, then asked, "You can turn into anything, correct?"
"Yes," she replied at once. "As long as I’ve seen it before—an object, an animal, a person. I can take their appearance."
"And how long can you remain that way?"
She thought for a second before answering. "If it’s a living thing, there’s no limit. I can stay as long as I want. But if it’s an object..." Her lips pressed together slightly. "Three days at a stretch. After that, I have to change back."
I nodded, deeply satisfied. That was more than enough.
"I will be visiting my mother-in-law this evening," I said evenly. "I plan to pick flowers for her. But I don’t trust the caregiver in charge of her als and belongings."
Xamira nodded again.
"I need my own vase," I continued. "One that doesn’t leave their sight."
It took Xamira a heartbeat to piece it together. Then understanding flickered in her eyes.
Her voice was steady when she answered, "I understand."
"Co find in my workstation by five this evening," I said. "Be ready."
"Yes, Luna."
I didn’t linger. I left her room and went straight to my workstation.
The familiar scent of herbs greeted . I worked quickly, portioning the remaining tea batches into single-use bags, sealing and labelling them with practised efficiency.
When I was done, I returned to my bedroom.
Draven was still on the balcony, staring out over the estate, unmoving. I could feel the weight of his thoughts even without touching the bond, so I didn’t bother interrupting him. Instead, I busied myself and waited.
At exactly five, I went back to my workstation.
Xamira was already there, standing quietly beside one of the tables. She looked up the mont I walked in. Her nanny hovered nearby.
"Leave us," I told the nanny.
As soon as the door shut behind her, I poured a bowl of the prepared dicine and handed it to Xamira.
"Drink."
She obeyed imdiately, draining it without question and returning the empty bowl.
"This antidote will keep you alive for three days," I said evenly. "So don’t panic."
"Thank you, Luna," she replied, bowing her head.
"Co," I said. "We need flowers."
Together, we went to the back garden to pick the flowers—simple, elegant blooms. When we returned, I sent Deidra to fetch a dium-sized vase. As soon as she delivered it, I dismissed her.
Once the door closed, I checked the corridor to make sure no one was coming before turning to Xamira.
"Transform exactly into this vase," I instructed.
Xamira nodded and swiftly changed into a flawless replica of the vase: sa shape, sa height, and sa etched pattern.
Without hesitation, I trimd the stems and arranged the flowers directly into her, my movents calm and precise. When I was done, the bouquet looked innocent and thoughtful.
’Perfect!’
---
I knocked on the familiar iron door, and it opened almost imdiately.
The caregiver glanced down at the items beside my feet—the flowers, the big plastic bag—then quickly lifted her gaze and bowed. "Luna."
I smiled faintly and stepped inside. "Bring those in, please."
As I entered the living room, my eyes went straight to the single sofa, and I paused. Mrs. Oatrun was already there.
She sat quietly on the sofa, hands folded on her lap, her posture composed, her expression distant. I greeted her respectfully, even as I wondered which version of her I was facing today.
Then, I took the seat across from her and set my shoulder bag beside .
The caregiver returned, placing the flower vase carefully on the table. Then she stepped back out and ca in again with the big plastic bag.
"Open it," I said gently. "The pastries are for Mada. The teas are for you. I made them myself."
Her face brightened imdiately. "Thank you so much, Luna."
She began unpacking the pastries, setting them neatly on the table. While she was distracted, I turned my attention to her casually.
"How is she today?"
The caregiver smiled, lowering her voice slightly. "Calm. Delusional, but calm."
I nodded, my gaze drifting back to the woman across from . She looked lost in thought until her eyes lifted and t mine directly.
"Have you found my daughter?" she asked suddenly.
My heart did a quick flip, but my voice remained steady. "I’m still looking for her."
Imdiately, I turned back to the caregiver. "Please bring a plate and serve the pastries."
"Yes, Luna."
As she picked up the teas, she paused, smiling appreciatively. "The packaging is so intentional. And they sll wonderful."
I inclined my head slightly. "I’m glad you like it."
She bowed one more ti before leaving. The door shut behind her, and the room fell quiet.
I turned back to Rosalie. "Mother," I said deliberately as I took out my phone and started recording. "I’m here to hear the rest of your story."
Her eyes flickered just for a second as surprise crossed her face before she masked it. I didn’t give her ti to speak.
"We don’t have ti," I continued calmly. "Your caregiver will return soon. If you have anything important to tell , tell now. If there are any questions you have for , save them for another opportunity."
I paused, ensuring she understood. Then I asked, without hesitation, "How did you first et Randall Oatrun?"
I inclined my head slightly, urging her on without interrupting.
Rosalie’s fingers tightened together in her lap as she began to speak. "I was cast away," she said softly. "After my mate died."
Her voice didn’t tremble, but there was an old, hollow ache beneath it.
"I had no standing anymore. No power. No protection. I was a vampire with a five years old child and no clan willing to shelter us. To them, I was a burden. Weak. Used goods."
My chest tightened.
Then, she lifted her gaze, eyes distant, as if the forest still stood before her.
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