In the calm that had briefly settled after Ryan’s wounds began to heal, the castle once again found itself shrouded in an invisible fog of tension. Kesha, who had brought with her a subtle wave of chaos since her arrival, now played her deceitful hand with greater calculation.
That morning, Kesha was seen walking slowly through the castle’s main corridor, clad in a loose robe that slipped just enough to reveal part of her shoulder. A fresh red wound marked her skin—appearing as though from a sharp scratch. She moved more slowly than usual, clearly hoping to draw attention from the passing omegas.
And sure enough, one of the female omegas halted upon seeing the injury.
“Oh my goddess, what happened, Kesha?” the omega asked, concern clear in her expression.
Kesha looked at her with teary
