However, I recognised that I could not refute them. I had to adhere to the regulations if I desired the king to endorse the amnesty and bestow our freedom. I needed to escape this palace above all else, and if that required serving as Vera’s handmaiden, then I would accept it.
“I am indifferent,” Jayce ultimately declared after a prolonged silence, gesturing dismissively as if swatting away an insect. “The choice is yours.” His tone conveyed indifference.
He pivoted and commenced his departure from the library, not casting a single glance backward.
“Then it is settled,” Vera declared, tightening her grip to the point of discomfort. I recoiled in agony as her nails penetrated my skin. “You will serve me until your death.”
I observed a glimmer of silver in her eyes, recognising that her wolf possessed a silvery gaze. The warmth that once characterised her voice for Prince Jayce had vanished, rendering her tone frigid and sending chills down my spine.
Her eyes possessed a frigid intensity that only her wolf could evoke. I cannot ascertain, as I have never acquired a wolf. I failed to comprehend the influence wielded by a wolf and the ensuing internal dialogues it generates.
At that moment, I realised that Hell was approaching.
“Must you depart?” Kylie nearly wept as she sat on her bed, observing me pack my few possessions.
“I must,” I conveyed to her, regretfully. “As Lady Vera’s handmaiden, I am obliged to adhere to those regulations. Handmaidens reside in a separate unit, in proximity to their ladies.”
Kylie sulked and crossed her arms over her chest.
“I will miss you,” she stated gently. “What will I do in your absence?”
I laughed, yet I recognised that the amusement did not manifest in my eyes due to my apprehension regarding the future.
“Kylie, you behave as though I am relocating to a palace. I am merely changing residences. You will still see me,” I reassured her, yet she merely rolled her eyes.
“Insufficient,” she stated.
Kylie was correct; I was unlikely to witness her serving as Vera’s handmaiden. I was aware that Vera would ensure that. She prohibits me from forming friendships or engaging in communication with anyone else within the palace. My existence was destined to be a torment.
“I am undertaking this for our benefit,” I informed her while seated beside her on the bed. “If I remain compliant and adhere to the regulations and directives, we will depart from this place as scheduled.”
She exhaled audibly and gazed at her hands, acknowledging my correctness.
“We must leave this place, Kylie,” I concluded.
She assented with a nod.
“We must depart from this location,” she concurred.
“Contribute your efforts here, and I shall contribute mine elsewhere, enabling us both to depart in a few months upon the king’s endorsement of the amnesty. Agreed?” I enquired.
She offered a slight smile and embraced me, drawing me into a hug.
“Affirmative,” she concurred.
…
“Ouch!” Vera exclaimed as she forcibly removed the brush from my grasp. “You are executing it incorrectly,” she spat, forcefully placing the brush on her vanity.
“This is not the first occasion I have groomed your hair, my lady,” I reminded her, attempting to maintain a composed tone while feeling considerably irritated.
She gazed at me through the mirror of her vanity, her lip curling in disdain and her warm, pale brown eyes transforming into a frigid silver reminiscent of a wolf’s gaze. I sensed my breath constricting in my throat.
“Do you have the audacity to speak back to me?” she snarled, instilling a sense of dread within me.
“N… no,” I faltered. “Certainly not.”
She gazed at me for an extended period before ultimately retrieving her brush and returning it to me.
“Attempt once more with reduced intensity,” she murmured as she reclined in her chair.
I nodded and resumed brushing her blonde hair, making a concerted effort to avoid snagging or entangling any strands.
“Please inform me, Molly. What is the proper method for caring for your hair?” she enquired, gazing at me through the mirror. I gazed at my reflection, scowling.
Vera’s hair was exceptionally smooth and blonde, whereas my hair cascaded in dishevelled dark ringlets around my shoulders. Contrasting styles and varieties of hair.
“What do you mean?” I enquired, uncertain of her question.
“Your hair is quite coarse. It appears challenging to manage. Do you utilise a comb or a pick?” she enquired.
I scowled.
“Occasionally, a comb,” I replied. “Occasionally, a brush.”
Her laughter astonished me.
“You? A brush?” she enquired. “I did not anticipate that a brush would be effective for your hair type.”
I was uncertain of her meaning, but I concluded it was preferable to remain silent.
“Do not misunderstand me,” Vera persisted, maintaining her gaze upon me in the mirror. “The hair is exquisite; however, I doubt that Prince Jayce would favour it for his lady.”
I scowled; Prince Jayce?
