chapter 3
968 Words
(Lily’s POV)
I yanked Amara to a halt just outside the heavy oak door of the Prince’s chambers. My pulse hammered so violently I could feel it in my throat. Amara arched a brow, shifting the stack of folded towels against her hip.
“Lily? You’re white as chalk. What is it?”
I pressed a trembling hand over my sternum, as if I could physically push the strange, aching pull back into place. It felt like an invisible thread had looped around my ribs and was tugging hard toward the room we’d just fled.
“I… it’s nothing,” I lied, forcing my arm down. “Here, let me take some of those.” I snatched half the towels before she could argue. She gave me a long, searching look but mercifully kept quiet.
We hurried through the quiet corridors, past the royal wing and down the narrow stairwell that led to the servants’ level. The laundry room was warm and steamy, smelling of lye and lavender. Amara dumped her load into one of the big copper tubs and gestured for me to do the same. She measured soap with practiced flicks of her wrist while I hoisted myself onto the sorting table, legs dangling, mind miles away.
I could feel her watching me.
Eventually she sighed. “Come on. Let’s go see if Miss Kitty has any warm milk left before lights-out.”
The promise of Miss Kitty’s kitchen was enough to drag me down from the table. I hooked my arm through Amara’s and we padded through the silent castle. Our whispers and muffled laughter echoed off stone like small, defiant birds.
The kitchen was still bustling with late-night cleanup. Pots clanged, brooms swished, and the lingering scent of roast lamb and rosemary made my empty stomach twist.
“My sweet girls!” Miss Kitty’s booming voice cut through the noise. She barrelled toward us, apron stretched tight across her generous frame, graying curls escaping her kerchief. She collided gently with a scullery boy who barely hid his grin.
She cupped Amara’s cheeks, planted loud kisses on both, then turned and did the same to me. Her hands smelled of yeast and cinnamon.
“What can I get my little birds tonight?”
“Warm milk?” Amara asked hopefully.
Miss Kitty threw her hands up in mock outrage. “Warm milk? On my watch? Absolutely not. You will sit and eat a proper meal, and I will hear no whining.” She pointed a wooden spoon at the small table tucked in the corner like a general issuing orders.
Grinning, we obeyed. Amara claimed the stool against the wall; I took the one facing the room. I never sat with my back to a door anymore not after today.
Miss Kitty returned with two heaping plates: thick slices of herb-crusted lamb, buttery mashed roots, honey-glazed carrots, and fresh bread still steaming. My mouth watered so hard it hurt.
We fell on the food like starved animals. Between bites I managed, “Miss Kitty… have you seen Mr. Wilcox? I was supposed to check in with him about tomorrow’s assignments.”
Her round face soured instantly. She glanced over both shoulders, then leaned in, voice dropped. “Wilcox is gone. Permanently.” She drew a finger across her throat with grim meaning before straightening and tapping my plate. “Eat.”
Amara caught my wide eyes and mimed the same gesture. My stomach flipped, but not from hunger anymore. I focused on my food and tried not to think about what “gone” actually meant in Wolf Hollow.
Miss Kitty hovered, beaming proudly each time one of us took another bite. When my plate was scraped clean I leaned back with a happy groan.
“More?” she asked immediately.
“I’ll explode,” I laughed, patting my belly. “You’ve stuffed me like a festival goose.”
“Good,” she declared, eyeing my too-sharp collarbones. “You’re all bones, child. A strong wind could carry you off.”
Amara jumped in before the lecture could start. “Miss Kitty, you are a goddess incarnate.”
The older woman flushed with pleasure. “The Goddess Leto blessed these hands so I could feed her lambs,” she said, pressing a palm to her ample chest.
I made a small, involuntary noise of disbelief.
Miss Kitty’s sharp ears caught it. “Something to say, Lily-love?”
I swallowed. Amara suddenly found the grain of the table fascinating.
“N-no, Miss Kitty. Just… we really should get to bed. Early shift with the royals tomorrow. I’ve already pushed my luck today.”
She studied me for a long moment, then nodded. “Fine, fine. But you’re taking these.” She pressed two still-warm rolls into each of our hands. “Now off with you. May Leto keep you safe tonight.”
We thanked her profusely and slipped out, clutching our treasure.
Sleep came quickly, deep and dreamless, wrapped in the first full belly I’d had in days.
Morning arrived like a slap.
I groaned, burrowed deeper under the thin blanket, but the distant clatter of buckets and the pale light seeping around the door told me chores wouldn’t wait. With a curse I threw off the covers, shivered into my gray servant dress, twisted my hair into a haphazard knot, and shoved my feet into the worn canvas slippers.
I opened my door and walked straight into a nightmare.
Callum leaned against the opposite wall, arms folded, a cruel smile already in place.
“Hello again, little lamb,” he purred, voice dripping venom. “Took me all night, but I finally found which hole you crawl into.”
He stepped forward.
The door slammed shut behind him with the finality of a coffin lid.
- Writer
