Chapter Two
1336 Words
ELARA’S POV
The palace floors were freezing at dawn, the cold was piercing and could cause frost bites if one was not careful.
But here I was, on my knees on the marble corridor outside the noble wing with a rag in one hand and a bucket of gray water beside me. My fingers had already started wrinkling from the soap.
The sun had not risen yet, but servants did not wait for sunlight, our work started long before that.
The sound of passing footsteps came from behind me. “You’re still here?”
I glanced over my shoulder to see Toma leaning against the wall with a tray of empty goblets balanced on one hand.
He was one of the kitchen runners, which meant his life was only slightly less miserable than mine.
“Where else would I be?” I asked.
He snorted. “Sleeping, dreaming…escaping.”
“If you know a door out of this place,” I said, scrubbing the floor again, “feel free to show me.”
“Not a chance. I’m not getting blamed when they drag you back.”
I rinsed the rag in the bucket and squeezed it out, the water had already turned to the color of old tea.
“That stain has been there since last winter,” Toma said.
“I know.”
“Do you think it will disappear today?”
“No.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Then you’re doing pointless work.”
“That describes most of my life here.”
And that made him laugh, but before he could say anything else, another voice came through the hallway.
“Elara!” I closed my eyes briefly.
Of course.
I stood and turned as Mistress Halwen marched down the corridor. Her gray hair was wrapped in a bun behind her head and her mouth was already frowning in disapproval.
She looked at the floor, then at me. “Why is this section not finished?”
“It is,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed at me. “It does not look finished.”
I held up my hands. “Because the stain refuses to obey me.”
Toma coughed to stifle his laughter. Mistress Halwen ignored him and pointed down the corridor.
“The laundry wing needs water. Take two buckets to them.”
Of course it did.
“Now?” I asked and she raised one eyebrow, that was all I needed for a response.
“Right,” I muttered.
Toma stepped aside as I picked up the buckets.
“Try not to collapse,” he said.
“I’ll do my best.”
The palace had more corridors than I could count. By the time I reached the laundry yard my arms already felt like they might fall off.
Steam came out of the open doors. Inside, several women were already working over the wash basins.
One of them looked up when I entered. “You’re late.”
“I was cleaning the noble wing.”
“That stain again?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head. “You could scrub that floor for ten years.”
“I believe it.” I placed the buckets beside the basin.
Another servant leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “Did you hear?”
“Hear what?” I asked.
“The full moon ritual is tonight.”
A few of the women glanced around before speaking. “I heard the High Priestess has already begun preparations.”
“That early?”
“Of course. You know how she is.” The name alone made the room a little more quiet.
Valla.
Even the nobles spoke carefully when they mentioned her.
“She chooses the Vessel at sunset,” someone whispered.
“Poor girl.”
I dipped a cloth into the basin.
“Who is it this time?” I asked.
“No one knows yet.”
“That never ends well,” another servant muttered.
One of the younger girls shivered. “Last month’s Vessel could barely walk afterward.”
“Stop talking about it,” the older woman snapped. “You’ll bring bad luck.”
I wrung out the cloth slowly. The Vessel ritual happened every full moon and everyone in the palace knew about it, but no one liked speaking about it openly.
The chosen girl would spend the night with the king while the High Priestess performed the ceremony.
The details changed depending on who you asked. Some servants said the ritual strengthened the king’s wolf, while others said it kept the kingdom protected.
Either way, it always ended the same way—one exhausted girl stumbling out of the ritual chamber at sunrise.
“Who do you think she’ll choose tonight?” the young servant asked.
“A noble daughter probably,” someone replied.
“Not likely,” another woman said. “Valla prefers girls without powerful families.”
“Why?”
“So no one complains if the ritual goes badly.”
The room went silent. While I rinsed the cloth and turned toward the door.
“You’re not even curious?” the young girl asked me.
“About what?”
“The Vessel.”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t concern me.”
She blinked. “Why not?”
“Because I’m Wolfless.”
The words flowed effortlessly because in Valdris, Wolfless people were barely considered wolves at all.
We were servants, laborers, cleaners—practically background noise. No High Priestess would waste a ritual on someone like me.
I carried the clean linens toward the courtyard, the sun had finally started rising above the palace walls.
Servants crossed the stone paths carrying baskets, trays, and tools.
Another normal day.
I had just stepped across the courtyard when the guards appeared, and the atmosphere around me changed immediately, soon every servant around me stopped moving.
“Bow,” someone whispered and I automatically lowered my head as the sound of heavy iron boots passed the courtyard.
I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. His guards always walked ahead of him.
Then another set of footsteps passed between them.
King Lucian.
Even without seeing him I could feel the weight of his presence.
All the servants along that path knelt in silence.
The king stopped briefly and I kept my eyes fixed to the ground. I’d rather avoid any drama today.
A strange feeling suddenly moved through my chest.
I frowned slightly.
Then the footsteps continued.
The feeling faded as quickly as it had appeared. I straightened slowly once the guards disappeared through the archway.
“That was him,” the young servant beside me whispered.
“Yes.”
“You didn’t look.”
“Why would I?”
She stared at me. “That’s the king.”
“And I’m carrying laundry,” I said.
She looked at me in confusion as I walked awway. As the day went by, the palace became busier. More servants moved candles toward the ritual halls and priests passed the corridors in dark flowing robes.
The tension slowly spread through the building.
By evening everyone knew the ritual would begin soon. I carried a basket of folded cloth toward the storage room when two servants hurried past me.
“Have they chosen the Vessel yet?”
“Not yet.”
“The High Priestess is still in the ceremonial chamber.”
“Poor girl.”
“Do you think she knows already?”
“Probably not.”
I stepped aside to let them pass, looking up to the sky that had already gone dark, which meant the full moon would rise soon.
The light wind shook the torches on the walls a bit and every servant seemed to be whispering about the same thing.
The Vessel.
The chosen girl would face the king alone tonight, but that had nothing to do with me.
I placed the basket inside the storage room and closed the door.
I was Wolfless.
And in Valdris, Wolfless girls were invisible.
- Writer
