Iris's POV
"No, no. Don't do that," Amelia said softly, her voice filled with concern as she reached out, her fingers brushing my cheeks to wipe away the tears that had spilled without my permission. Her touch was gentle, grounding.
I sniffled, forcing a shaky smile as I met her kind eyes, glimmering with empathy. "Thank you," I murmured, my voice filled with emotion.
Just then, I remembered the pile of dirty clothes. "I need to go wash these," I said as I tried to shove the emotions away. I turned toward the door, but Amelia was already at my side, her quick steps matching mine.
"Let me help you with the hand laundry," she offered, as if she'd already decided she wouldn't take no for an answer.
"No," I said quickly, tightening my grip on the bundle. "I don't want you to get punished because of me." My words came out sharper than I intended and the thought of dragging Amelia into my mess, my punishment for refusing to apologize to Liora made my stomach churn. I don't want her involved in this.
Amelia's lips quivered into a mischievous smile. "It doesn't matter," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "Let me help you." She paused, her eyes twinkling as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. "My princess." She winked, and despite everything, a laugh bubbled up. We shared a smile, a silent agreement, and headed out together. I made my way to go get Karl and Zane's dirty clothes but no one was in the rooms. The doors were locked from the outside. Perhaps they had gone out.
Hours later, my hands were weak from scrubbing Cade's shirts against the washboard, the harsh water biting into my skin. Amelia sat beside me, her own hands busy with a separate cloth as she entertained me with the gossip from the Warborn pack's bar. And soon, we were done.
Where we were now seated, there were approaching footsteps. I looked up to see Liora sauntering toward us. She's carrying a plate of raw corn and a cup of water balanced in her hands. Her lips curled into a mocking smile as she stood in front of me.
"Your meal," she said. Without warning, she tilted the plate, letting the corn scatter across the dirt at my feet. The cup of water followed, splashing onto the ground as she bent down, her face inches from mine.
"Oops!" She said, having a pity look on her face. "I was kind enough and careful not to let you go hungry after so much work but unfortunately…," she purred. "It fell." She shoved the now-empty cup toward me.
"Eat." She said, putting back the fallen corn into the plate. "It's an honor. I decided to serve your meal myself today." She added.
Inside my head, Lyra's snarl was immediate as I struggled with my human body for retaliation. But Lyra's voice filled my head. "Ignore her. She's nothing." I clenched my jaw, my fingers tightening around the wet shirt in my hands. The past two days, I'd eaten the corn and water served by the chief maid without complaint, hunger had left me no choice. But this? This was different. Liora's mockery and cruelty…. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction. If she's expecting me to beg for a meal, she must be joking.
"Let's leave," I said to Amelia, my voice steady despite the fury burning inside me. Amelia followed suit as she shot Liora a very cold and short glare. Only if looks could kill, I was sure, Liora would drop dead in an instant.
Liora's eyes narrowed, her lips parting in outrage. "How dare you walk out on me?" she snapped, her voice rising as we turned away, her footsteps crunching behind us. I didn't look back as we made our way to the maid quarters.
By evening, I was bone-tired, my arms aching from hours of scrubbing. I sat on the edge of my narrow cot in my small room. Amelia had slipped away earlier, promising to return, and true to her word, she appeared at my door, a small bundle wrapped in her cloth tucked under her arm.
"I brought you some food," she said as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She unwrapped the cloth to reveal a small loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese, and a few slices of dried meat, and water. Simple, but a feast compared to the slop Liora had offered. My stomach growled, and I managed a grateful smile at her thoughtfulness.
"Amelia, you didn't have to…" I started, but she waved me off.
"Eat," she insisted, pushing the bundle toward me. "You need it."
I tore into the bread and we began to eat together.
Then, suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. Amelia's head snapped up, her pulse quickening as she quickly hid the meal. Then the door was pushed open. Beta Rowan stepped inside, his broad body filling the doorway, his cold eyes scanning the room with cold authority. Behind him stood Elder Thalia, her silver hair pulled into a tight bun, her expression unreadable. Two pack guards flanked behind them, and then… a stranger.
The stranger was a man in his fifties, perhaps. His hair was white, more like he was aging. His posture was rigid, his broad shoulders squared under a finely tailored black coat that spoke of wealth and power. A faint scar ran across his left side of the face, barely visible but adding a dangerous edge to his otherwise appearance. He stood tall, his hands clasped behind his back, and as his gaze swept over me and Amelia as he accessed us like a buyer could access a cow he wants to purchase.
Rowan broke the silence. "They will be of good use to you," he said, gesturing toward us.
The white-haired man's eyes narrowed in disapproval as they settled on me. "I don't want this one," he said, gesturing toward me with a dismissive flick of his hand. We stared confused, catching as Amelia's face mirrored my own confused state. "She looks weak," he added.
Rowan's smile faltered, but he recovered quickly, his voice taking on a persuasive lister. "She's stronger than she looks, Lord Varn. She's fit for this."
There was silence and then the man, Lord Varn nodded, as if reluctantly conceding. "I and my pack will return. Please get them prepared." He replied as Rowan nodded. Immediately, I watched them walk away, leaving me and Amelia confused.
What's going on?