The Goddess and the Rogue King's Curse

5 - Is she for real?

Grace

“Miss Grace?” Miriam smiles. “May I come in?”

I don’t know why she’s asking me when she’s already in the room. Regardless, I nod.

“What can I do for you this morning?”

She bows slightly. “I’m here to take you to breakfast before work.”

I blink slowly. “Work?”

Miriam nods quickly. “The Rogue King’s orders.”

I stare at her. “You mean chores?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I shake my head. “Don’t call me ma’am. I’m not your superior, Miriam. You can call me Grace. How old are you?”

Miriam smiles slightly. “I’m twenty-one.”

Huh. Same age as me.

I nod. “What kind of work am I supposed to be doing?”

“Anything from laundry to cleaning windows and floors. It will all depend on Wendy. She’s the head of household staff and delegates chores to the rest of us.”

I snort. “You’ve got to be kidding me? I’ve never scrubbed a floor in my life!”

Miriam pales while swallowing hard. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

I wave her off. “I don’t look down on cleaning, Miriam. I just don’t do it. Where I came from, I never had to.”

Miriam hesitates. “But you have to do it here. The King said so.”

I sigh, dragging myself to my feet. “Of course he did.”

That bastard would have me cleaning like a slave! I’ve lived in Atlantis all my life, where I was a princess! We had people who cleaned for us. I never had to lift a finger!

Gods, I sound pampered. But I was by everyone, including my parents and grandparents. Poseidon has always treated me more like a daughter than a granddaughter. And much like my father, my grandfather lets me get away with far too much. No matter the trouble I cause, Poseidon is always on my side.

I know that’s wrong. I should be punished when I’ve done something wrong. But I gave up trying to explain that to my dad and Poseidon a long time ago because it never made any difference. Dad would tell me that, as his daughter, no one has the right to punish me. Poseidon would say that, as his granddaughter, there was nothing I couldn’t do.

It was wrong, and I know that. But I was spoiled, and my mind let me believe I was infallible.

What child wouldn’t do whatever they wanted when there were never any consequences to their actions?

Exactly. No one!

But I’m paying for it all now. I don’t know, maybe I do deserve to be punished like this. Perhaps this will give me a whole new perspective on life. I’ve had things too easy my entire life, but the Gods know I love a challenge, and being here will be a massive challenge.

I follow Miriam to the lower floor of the house. We sit in a small room, eating eggs and toast. Weird, I never liked eggs before, but I don’t seem to mind them right now. I drink the orange juice Miriam handed me, and sigh.

Is this really my life now?

Once we’re done with breakfast, Miriam asks me to follow her down the dark hallway. The storeroom she leads me into is cold and smells of soap and steel. Miriam hands me a plain gray uniform—rough fabric, shapeless cut. Ugh, how vile! I hold it up like it might bite me.

Why would anybody wear this?

“You can change over there.” Miriam points to a screen.

With a sigh, I walk behind it and change into the ugly uniform. Once I’m changed, I fold my clothes and place them on the chair behind the screen. I then walk back to Miriam.

“Hair too,” Miriam says gently. “Tie it up. Out of your face. Preferably a bun.”

I raise a brow. “You’re bossy for an Omega.”

Miriam blushes. “I’m sorry. I just… I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

I study her for a moment, then nod. “Fine. But Miriam, you don’t need to apologize for every little thing. I’m no better than you.”

Miriam nods with a smile. She’s really quite pretty when she smiles.

I twist my long hair into a tight bun. The mirror in the corner shows me not as a Goddess, but as a servant.

Today is not going to be a good day. I know that more than I know anything else right now. The air reeks of it.

I smirk.

Let them push. Let them see what happens.

The kitchen is chaos—steam rising, pots clanging, voices snapping orders. I’m not stupid; I knew the kitchen would be packed. They always were back home. Not that we needed chefs and cooks, we could snap our fingers and food would appear. However, since Mom was born on land, she liked home-cooked food, so Dad made it happen. But this place is ridiculous.

The head of household staff stands like a statue carved from granite, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

She looks me up and down, sneering. “So, this is the human.”

I don’t flinch. This is what I’m to expect from here on in because in this place, I am nothing but a human, and humans are clearly scum. Not to me, I never looked down on humans, even if it would have been dangerous to be around one.

“That’s me.”

The woman narrows her eyes. “My name is Wendy. And your name would be?”

“Grace,” I tell her.

“You’ll be on laundry duty with Miriam. Don’t touch anything you can’t lift. If you break anything, you will be punished.”

Of course I will.

But Laundry?

Of all the things!

I don’t know how to use a washing machine. The only thing I know to do is fold my clothes. Gods, this is going to be a disaster!

However, I smile sweetly. “I’ll try not to break anything.”

Wendy scoffs.

She doesn’t like me, but then, I don’t give a shi.t either. It matters not to me who likes me and who doesn’t. I’m not here to impress anyone or make friends. I’m here to serve my sentence with my head down until it’s time to leave. Only then will I get my revenge!

Wendy turns to Miriam. “Keep her in line. If she steps over it, it’s you who’ll take the fall. Is that understood?”

I roll my eyes. She’s not very original. Blaming someone else for the mistakes of the new girl.

Miriam nods, eyes downcast. “Yes, Wendy.”

“Good. Humans are nothing but trouble. Remember that.”

I don’t correct her.

Why should I?

Let her think I’m weak. Let her think I’m nothing.

I want to see how far these people will push me.

Miriam and I are about to leave when another woman sweeps into the kitchen—tall, elegant, dressed in silk and arrogance. Her heels click like threats. Her scent is sharp, Alpha-born, and proud.

“Where is the King’s breakfast?” She snaps. “He’s been waiting for half an hour!”

The head of staff bows slightly. “It’s on its way, Lady Elira.”

Lady?

She wishes. She’s a spoiled bitc.h by the looks of her. Trust me, it takes one to know one. However, I am nothing like this woman. She’s one of those women who hurt others to get what she wants. I have never done that – apart from the Whitney thing. But that’s a different story.

Elira’s eyes land on me. She looks me up and down, slow and deliberate. “Who is this?”

I meet her gaze. “Laundry girl. Apparently.”

“Ah,” She smirks. “So, you’re the human girl Killan allowed to stay.”

I roll my eyes while folding my arms across my chest. She won’t intimidate me, no matter how much she tries. It doesn’t matter that she’s an Alpha and I’m human now. Yes, she could kill me with one slap. But just because I don’t have my powers, it doesn’t mean I’ll change.

“That would be me.”

Elira steps closer, voice low. “I know your game. Act innocent, weak, pathetic, thinking you’ll gain Killian’s attention. But I warn you, stay away from the King.”

I laugh.

How ridiculous can this woman be?

“Trust me, I have no interest in the Rogue King.” I’d rather slit my wrists than have anything to do with that pig!

Elira’s eyes narrow. “He’s my mate.”

I blink. “And I still don’t care.”

“I know girls like you. Always wanting what they can’t have, wanting men they can’t have!”

I swallow and grit my teeth. I am not that kind of girl! But at the same time, I am. I wanted Kyan when I knew he belonged to Whitney. But I was in love with him. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I was confused and led on by a man who lied to me. I will never fall for such tricks again.

Elira smirks, then grabs my wrist, slamming my hand into her own face. The sound echoes around the kitchen, and all eyes are on us. Elira gasps, stumbles, and falls to the floor with a dramatic cry.

I shake my head while staring down at her, stunned. “Seriously?” That is the oldest trick in the book!

Who is she trying to kid?

She’s an Alpha, and there’s no way I could hurt her to the point she’d fall to the ground. No one in the room says anything, and I shake my head.

The kitchen freezes.

And then—

“What the hell is going on?” Killian’s voice cuts through the room like a blade.

Wonderful. This is all I need!

He stands in the doorway, mask gleaming, cloak trailing behind him like smoke. His eyes lock on Elira, then flick to me.

I don’t move. Don’t speak.

All I can think is: What a fuckin.g cliché.