Gavriel could be stubborn and impulsive, especially where his mate was concerned, but one thing was certain: he would never put his loved ones in danger... never risk the lives of his family.
Wilma drew a deep breath and steadied herself, slipping into the role exactly as Gavriel had instructed. She couldn’t let Nilda or Ava suspect a thing.
Just one week, she reminded herself. One week, and this nightmare would finally be over. Until then, she would play her part perfectly, exactly as her son needed her to. One week of holding her breath... hoping her daughter would truly recover and return to the woman she once was.
She forced a calm smile, steadying her breath as the maidservants helped adjust her shawl. She had to play this carefully. Gavriel was clear: Nilda must not suspect a thing. So Wilma tucked away her real fury, smoothing her expression into sothing soft and motherly, sothing she had perfected over years of court life.
She clasped her hands in front of her and turned toward Nilda, her voice carrying the sa trembling worry she always showed. “I will go see my son again later,” she said gently. “We will talk about... all of this.” She let out a slow, weary sigh, as if she were a mother caught between loyalty and confusion.
“Please, Your Grace. We must do sothing.” Nilda’s voice trembled, her hands clasping tightly in front of her. “I’m scared for Princess Riela’s health. For her life. We don’t know... but Cain could be behind this. He already succeeded once, his daughter managed to get close to the Alpha King, and now Princess Riela is suffering.”
Wilma kept her expression composed, though her jaw clenched ever so slightly.
“And the rumors,” Nilda continued, voice growing anxious, “they keep spreading. So say the Alpha King is responsible for them, that he started the gossip himself to secure his mate.”
Wilma’s eyes sharpened. “What do you an by that?”
Nilda hesitated, glancing toward the door before stepping closer. “Lady Ava has soone reliable... soone who investigated this thoroughly. And according to what she learned... the Alpha King deliberately spread the rumor that Althea is not Cain’s daughter. It’s like he’s hitting two birds with one stone, Your Grace. He protects his mate’s reputation, and at the sa ti, he uses this story to draw Cain out of hiding.”
Wilma’s breath stilled, not because she believed Nilda, but because she was fighting the urge to laugh bitterly.
She already knew this. She was Gavriel’s mother, after all, and she understood exactly how cunning her son could be. But she was also aware of sothing else, there was a real chance that Althea wasn’t Cain’s daughter at all. It wasn’t confird yet, but the possibility lingered.
Historically, a lycan’s hybrid offspring always carried an inner wolf. That was what the old records said. But nowhere was it written that a hybrid couldn’t be wolfless. Althea might simply be the first of her kind, her mother’s blood overpowering everything else... especially if her mother had been truly powerful.
But everything was still just speculation, and none of it mattered to her right now, except for one thing. Riela had to be healed. And if anyone had truly played a part in worsening her daughter’s condition, she would make sure every single one of them paid for it.
Wilma remained calm...
“And what else have you and Lady Ava concluded?” she asked lightly.
Nilda took a deep breath. “Also... there’s sothing more I wish to suggest. For the Princess.” She placed a hand over her chest as if trying to steady her nerves. “I found soone, Your Grace. A healer. Not a regular mage, soone from myth. Soone they say only appears once in a lifeti.”
Wilma raised a brow, feigning curiosity. “Who?”
Nilda swallowed, excitent and desperation mixing in her eyes. “Have you heard of the Miracle Healer. He’s—”
She didn’t finish. Wilma, keeping her facade perfectly intact, widened her eyes just enough to look intrigued... and suspicious.
“Go on,” she encouraged slowly. “This... miracle healer. Who is he? And why haven’t I heard of him before?”
Nilda smiled confidently, not realizing she was pushing herself directly into the noose Gavriel prepared.
“Because only a chosen few ever et him, Your Grace. But I was fortunate... I found him. And he can examine Princess Riela. Properly. Safely. Without interference from the traitor’s daughter.”
Wilma inhaled, steadying herself. She needed to act cautious... concerned... and just doubtful enough to lure them further.
“Then perhaps,” Wilma murmured, voice controlled, “I should speak with my son about this miracle healer. If he truly exists... and if he poses no danger... then I will consider it.”
She offered a faint, tired smile, the perfect mask of a mother desperate for her daughter’s recovery. “Thank you for your dedication, Nilda. I will see His Majesty to discuss these matters. I truly appreciate everything...”
Nilda bowed deeply, certain she had accomplished her task.
But the mont her head dipped, Wilma’s eyes darkened with a quiet, simring anger.
She closed her eyes briefly before speaking. “You may leave now, Nilda. And inform Lady Ava that I will et her at our usual breakfast ti. We have matters to discuss regarding the upcoming events that require her presence.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Nilda replied before turning to leave.
Once the door shut, Wilma exhaled slowly. Ava... she had treated that girl like her own daughter. She had grown genuinely fond of her. Ava and Riela were like sisters, inseparable since they were young. Even now, Wilma still struggled to believe that Ava would go so far, would hurt Riela, just to chase her own ambitions.
Wilma quickly prepared herself, ready to face her usual duties at court. As soon as she stepped out of her bedchamber and started down the hallway, she encountered Ava. The young woman stopped and offered a polite greeting.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” Ava said sweetly, walking beside her as if nothing in the world were out of place. As always, she matched Wilma’s steps just like she used to.
They moved through the long corridor together. The palace was already alive with activity, servants rushing quietly, guards switching shifts, sunlight spilling through the tall windows.
Ava chatted lightly, asking about the celebration, complinting Wilma’s attire, acting every bit the loyal young lady she had always pretended to be.
When they reached the inner courtyard, the usual table near the fountain had already been set for her. Ava stopped and gestured gracefully.
“Your Grace, you must be tired from the long night. Please, let serve you breakfast.”
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