Kamrynn’s POV
That night, I dream of Rmonica, and it’s one of the strangest, most vivid dreams I’ve ever had.
I see her standing in a beautiful, sprawling garden, surrounded by vibrant, colorful flowers. She moves gracefully from one bed of flowers to another, smiling as she gently tends to each bloom, touching each petal as if it were precious. Her hands are tender, her face calm and content, filled with the joy of caring for something she loves.
But as night falls, the atmosphere changes. A figure cloaked in shadows slips into the garden, moving silently among the flowers. The figure pulls out a small vial and pours something dark and viscous over the soil, careful not to disturb a single leaf. They disappear into the darkness just as silently as they came.
The next morning, Rmonica returns, a look of horror crossing her face as she sees the flowers beginning to wilt, their once-brilliant colors dimming. She kneels, her hands trembling as she tries to revive the plants, watering them, pruning them. Her care is tireless, and though her efforts bring a glimmer of life to some blooms, others continue to wither and die.
The cloaked figure returns night after night, pouring more of the dark substance into the garden. And with each passing day, more flowers succumb, their beauty snuffed out despite Rmonica’s desperate attempts to save them.
By the end, her once-vibrant garden is nothing but a barren bed of dry, lifeless soil.
I wake with a jolt, my heart racing, a strange sense of dread clinging to me. What on earth was that dream? It felt so real, so heavy with meaning, though I can’t understand any of it. I try to shake it off, but an uneasy feeling remains, gnawing at the edges of my mind.
A sudden wave of nausea hits me, and I throw off the covers, stumbling into the bathroom just in time. The nausea rolls through me in waves until I’ve emptied my stomach. I rinse my mouth and brush my teeth, then glance at the clock-it’s barely 5 a. m., and the sun is just beginning to rise.
“Great. Morning sickness. As if things weren’t complicated enough,” I mutter to myself, wiping my face. “I didn’t even have this in the first trimester.”
After taking a few steadying breaths, I turn on the shower, letting the hot water calm me. When I’m finally dressed, the palace is still silent, but I feel wide awake and ready to get an early start on the day. Maybe a bit of work will take my mind off the strange dream.
On my way to the kitchen, though, I stop in my tracks as I spot a familiar figure slipping out of her room. Eloane? I freeze, my heart skipping a beat as I instinctively duck behind a column, watching as she moves carefully down the hallway, glancing over her shoulder as if making sure she isn’t being followed.
Curiosity prickles through me, and before I can stop myself, I’m moving quietly after her, keeping to the shadows. She approaches one of the palace guards posted by the door and hands him a folded piece of paper, her voice low and hurried. I can’t make out a single word of their conversation, but the guard’s expression is serious as he tucks the letter into his pocket. Eloane gives him a curt nod and quickly slips back toward her room.
I stay hidden until she’s gone, my mind racing. There was nothing suspicious in the act itself-passing a message through a palace guard isn’t uncommon. But the way she did it, her secrecy… Why does it feel so wrong?
Taking a deep breath, I push down the unease. I can’t exactly tell Rmonica about this, not with everything she’s already worried about. Besides, Eloane technically didn’t do anything wrong, and it’s not my place to pry. But… something about it feels off, and I can’t shake the feeling that something deeper is going on.
I make my way to the kitchen, where I find Tiona and a few of the maids already at work. Tiona looks up as I enter and gives me a warm smile.
“Good morning, Kamrynn,” she says. “You’re up early.”
“Good morning,” I reply, smiling back. “I thought I’d get a head start.”
The kitchen staff gathers around, and Tiona introduces each one of them. “This is Alina, Mira, Lena, Elsa, Rowan, Sarai, Jessa, Tilly, Brynn, and Minna,” she says, pointing to each maid in turn. She gestures to a tall man with a chef’s hat. “And our Chef, Claude, who keeps the royal family well-fed.”
Claude nods, his gruff face softening just a little. “Welcome, Kamrynn,” he says, giving me a small smile. “Glad to have another set of hands here.”
“Thank you,” I say, feeling a warmth settle over me. They all seem friendly, and it’s a relief not to feel like an outsider here. Maybe I was wrong to worry about being judged for being a rogue.
“Alright, everyone,” Tiona says, clapping her hands. “Here’s the schedule for today.”
As she reads out the duties, I find out I’m assigned to kitchen prep, which means washing and chopping ingredients for Chef Claude. I wash my hands and get to work, scrubbing vegetables as the morning bustle begins. The kitchen fills with the scent of fresh ingredients, the hum of conversation, and the clatter of pots and pans.
As I work, I catch snippets of a conversation nearby. Two maids, Sarai and Lena, are restocking the cabinets, their voices low but distinct enough to overhear.
“Did you hear about Eloane’s latest demand?” Sarai whispers, sounding appalled. “The nerve she has, acting like she owns the palace.”
Lena sighs, shaking her head. “Poor Luna. Eloane’s behavior has gotten worse. And that request about the Alpha? It’s shameless.”
I tense, straining to listen without drawing attention to myself.
“It’s disgraceful,” Lena continues, her voice laced with disgust. “Eloane may be carrying the Luna’s child, but that doesn’t give her the right to… to act like this.”
Sarai shakes her head, her tone full of sympathy. “The Luna deserves better than to be treated this way. She’s so trusting, she doesn’t see what Eloane’s doing. It’s hard to watch.”
Lena lowers her voice further, glancing around to make sure no one’s listening. “Do you know that Eloane’s a widow? Her mate died… under strange circumstances.”
Sarai sighs. “Really? Poor Luna, having to rely on someone like that. And Eloane’s the only one who handles everything for her-even her meals.”
My stomach twists as I process their words. So, Eloane is a widow… and she’s the only one in charge of everything concerning Rmonica, including her food?
Before I can think more on it, the door swings open, and Eloane herself steps into the kitchen. The room falls silent immediately, and every maid straightens, focusing intently on their work.
Eloane’s eyes scan the room, and her lips curve into a tight, almost mocking smile. “Good morning,” she says coolly, her voice laced with condescension. “I hope breakfast is prepared to my standards. I’ll be taking it up to the Luna myself.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tiona replies respectfully, keeping her eyes down.
Eloane’s gaze sweeps over each of us, pausing on me for a heartbeat. A chill runs down my spine, but I keep my head low, focusing on the vegetables in front of me.
“See that it’s done right,” she says before turning sharply and striding out of the room, leaving a tense silence in her wake.
The moment the door closes behind her, a collective sigh of relief passes through the kitchen. I meet Tiona’s gaze, and she offers me a reassuring smile, as if to say, We’re used to it.
As I return to my task, though, my mind is racing, piecing together everything I’ve overheard, everything I’ve seen. Eloane’s strange behavior, her harsh treatment of the staff, her growing demands… and now this strange letter she handed to the guard in secret. It all feels wrong, and the suspicion gnawing at me only grows stronger.
What on earth is Eloane truly up to?