Cursed And Crowned

Chapter Seven

Ophelia's pov

In the early hours of the next morning, I was woken up by the sound of incessant knocking on my door that almost ripped it from its hinges.

Rising from the dusty bed with sleep starved eyes, my feet carried me to the front door. As soon as it swung open, my cheek was met with a hard slap which sent a stinging pain that instantly spread across my face and caused me to stagger backwards.

"Worthless wrench! Why are you still sleeping, when you should be working?" It was the handmaid of the house, Priscilla. She looked even more older than I remember I had to be. I brushed the fresh bruise on my face, blinking away tears as I steadied my voice.

"Priscilla, you dare lay your hands on me?"

She crossed her plump arms, slowly folding one over the other as her gaze never left me before she broke out into a fit of laughter that left me staring at her in bewilderment.

"Priscilla!"

Her eyes suddenly hardened.

"It is Madam Priscilla to you, in case you have forgotten someone else–someone far more deserving–is wearing the crown of Luna now. Which makes you a stray the alpha took pity on and brought in!"

Her words hit me like whip lashes on bare, raw skin. Even if it went without saying that I had been thoroughly demoted through my banishment, my standing in this house could have been better if Eric chose to bring me back in a less disgraceful manner.

Now even the servants were having a fun field day with me.

I took a deep breath, just saying that this was humiliating hardly scratched the surface. Closing my eyes briefly, I pictured Ryker's face, his reassuring smile, and his gentle reassuring touches. If I ever wanted to see him again, I needed to forge my way through this turbulent storm.

"My apologies, madam Priscilla..."

I could see her shoulders rise a little higher to the roof, as her smile almost touched the corner of her ears.

"That's good, even a wench like you can be worth something if you know your place.”

She threw a garbage bag at me and with a disgusted voice said. "Those are your clothes, some of the maids were generous enough to give you second hand clothes so make sure to thank them when you see them.”

I stared down at the garbage bag, anger coursing through my whole body.

"What are you supposed to say to me for bringing this for you?" Madam Priscilla asked me in a cocky tone, I bent down and picked up the garbage bag, "Thank you, for the clothes." The words felt like knives sliding through my throat as I spoke.

I hesitated, studying her for a second or two before cautiously asking.

"Madam Priscilla, will this be my regular working hour?" I doubted that the clock had gone a minute beyond two before she knocked on my door.

"Of course, the Alpha was being generous yesterday. In my opinion, 2 to 3 hours of sleep is more than what you deserve!"

Just when I thought that Priscilla couldn't get much worse, she would reach another low. But why was she being this way? Indeed, she had only been politely tolerant of me in the past, respecting that my rank was higher, but now she was going out of her way to be openly antagonistic, over nothing more than my mere existence. Something didn’t add up.

"My goodness, Priscilla, I heard your voice down the hall. What has got you so upset at this hour?"

Gianna appeared at the entrance of my room, looking like a delicate little flower, her silky flowy robe causing my fingers to tighten around my garbage bag filled with second-hand clothes.

"My Luna, that is nothing for you to bother with. It's this woman who is refusing to carry out her responsibilities. I was just..."

"Priscilla..." Gianna cut her off, "... This lady right here is a guest my husband brought for aid, you shouldn't be berating her.”

Instantly, Priscilla shrunk into a shell of humility, explaining everything in a calm and far more considerate tone than she had used with me.

Gianna looked at me.

"I hope you don't mind the unfavorable working hours, but you will soon come to understand that this is also for your own good."

I didn't know how barely being able to sleep was going to be for my own good, but I was in no place to object so I just nodded obediently.

"I'm glad you understand, while you are working the maids will clean up your room, you can collect your meal in the kitchen when you are hungry and if anything is troubling you, you can come to me at any time."

Her words wore an intriguing apparel of consideration, but it was paper thin.

Every word that came out of her mouth was patronizing and strangely off-putting. It felt like I was talking to someone who was simply reciting a script that they had inscribed in their heart.

But her seemingly pretentious personality was the least of my headaches. With a sigh, I made my way towards the bathroom, only to discover unsurprisingly that there was no functioning water.

Frustrated, I brought this up to Priscilla.

“The servants are already taking care of it,” she said dismissively. “You should focus on your responsibilities instead.”

Feeling icky and uncomfortable, I reluctantly made my way to the infirmary. Priscilla escorted me there, but as soon as we arrived, she turned to a nearby guard and whispered something to him before stepping away.

As soon as I stepped into the infirmary Eric's scent which was once pleasant but now crude and harsh struck my nostrils like a slap.

"You're finally here!" He snapped at me impatiently, I thought he would throw more insults at me but he reined them all in and pointed towards the injured people.

There were a lot of them, ranging from milder injuries to people who had been critically placed under comatose because of what their bodies had to endure.

There was hardly any love left for these people I used to call my pack members, and I was sure that wasn't one-sided either. But to say that I was not moved in the slightest at the sight of their misery would be a lie.

"Goodness, would it kill you to feel just a little bit of pity for them?" He said as he took me to the Head healer's office.

"What did I do this time?" I asked stuffing back a yawn.

"You look so unbothered and cruel, if you are going to be treating them you can't act like a walking ice statue, they'll assume you don't care about them or their pain.”

My fingers clenched into my fist as I imagined how much better it would look to zoom it towards my ex-mate's jaw.

"Am I supposed to care about their pain?"

"Yes, anything other than that is heartless," I couldn't take it anymore. I stood frozen to the spot in anger, he kept walking but stopped when he noticed I wasn’t following him.

He turned around, glaring at me with cold eyes. "Don't tell me you're going to throw a tantrum now?"

I was going to restrain myself but I needed to let loose a bit.

My heart constricted in pain as I remembered how cruel he had always been toward me. "Why does their pain matter to you, but mine never did?" I asked locking gaze with him.

But all I got in response was a cold glare.