"Nothing happens in my palace that I do not know. I simply choose when to act oblivious to it."
— Orin
013.
Seyra stepped into the doorway and kept her eyes on the floor, her heart beating frantically in her chest.
Orin sat in a high-backed chair near the far wall, his mask in place and one hand resting on the armrest.
She bowed. Her back pulled hard, but she held it.
"How long were you standing out there?" he asked.
"Not long, Alpha."
"But it was long enough."
She said nothing. The rules were clear. If he didn’t ask a question, she didn’t speak.
"Come here."
Her legs felt stiff as she crossed the room. She stopped a few steps from his chair, her hands folded in front of her.
He was quiet for a moment. She heard him breathe in slowly, like he was searching the air.
"You smell of blood," he commented. "Cade’s ointment. And bread."
Seyra’s stomach dropped.
"Bread." He said it again, slower. "The kitchens do not send anything to the maids’ quarters before noon. Who gave it to you?"
Ruth’s face flashed in her mind. The way she had looked over her shoulder and said, Don’t let Ophelia see.
If Orin found out, Ruth would end up tied to that same post in the courtyard, or worse, killed.
"I took it," Seyra answered, keeping her voice steady. "From the kitchen, Alpha. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and I was hungry."
The cloth was still tucked into her sleeve. She pressed her arm against her side and hoped he couldn’t see it.
Orin didn’t move.
"People who steal bread are careful not to leave crumbs on their sleeves, little maid," he said.
She looked down. There they were, three small crumbs on her uniform. She waited for his order, a punishment or death sentence. None came.
"Next time," Orin continued, "steal something that doesn’t leave evidence."
She blinked. Was that a joke? She couldn’t tell, and she didn’t dare guess.
Orin tapped his fingers once against the armrest, then tilted his head, his expression going hard. "Interesting how you think I do not know whatever goes on in my palace."
Seyra gasped.
"Who gave it to you?"
Her knees hit the ground before she even decided to kneel. Pain tore across her back, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.
"Please, Alpha," she said. "It was a maid."
"I want a name."
Her heart pounded in her ears. She thought about how innocent Ruth was. She was just being kind. Then she thought of the guard and the sound his neck had made in that hallway.
She couldn’t do that again. She couldn’t let someone else die because of her.
"Ruth," she whispered. Her voice shook. "Her name is Ruth."
The room went silent. She regretted it immediately.
"I’m sorry," Seyra said quickly, tears spilling down her cheeks. "She only helped me because I hadn’t eaten since yesterday. I was on the floor in the hall, and my stomach was growling, and she felt sorry for me. She didn’t do it to disobey you. It was one piece of bread."
Orin said nothing.
"Please." Her hands pressed against the cold floor. "Please, Alpha. Don’t kill her. If someone has to be punished, let it be me. I’m the one who took it."
She kept her head down. She could hear her own breathing, ragged and loud in the quiet.
Orin stared at her. She could feel it even without looking up. It went on for so long that she started counting her heartbeats just to stay steady.
Then he finally spoke.
"Get up."
Seyra hesitated.
"Now."
She pushed herself to her feet, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Her back throbbed, and her legs shook so badly she thought they would give out.
Orin leaned back in his chair. "Astrid Bruce," he said instead.
Seyra’s breath caught. She didn’t know if this ended the Ruth conversation and if Ruth would be spared, but she wanted to hope.
She wanted to be allowed that much.
"You heard Magnus. I know you did, so don’t lie." His head tilted slightly. "She shares your father’s name. Your sister?"
"Yes, Alpha."
"Look at me."
She raised her eyes to the dark holes in his mask. It was harder than she expected. She had nowhere to hide her face.
"Magnus says she is the only woman in Harlow Hades worthy to stand beside me," Orin said. "Tell me what she is."
The room seemed to shrink around her.
This was a trap, or a test, or both. If she told the truth, she would sound like a bitter reject whose sister had everything. If she lied and praised her, Astrid would walk into this palace as its Lady Royal with her help.
Seyra swallowed.
"She’s beautiful, Alpha," she responded, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. "Everyone in the pack says so."
"I did not ask what everyone says."
Her fingers tightened against her apron. "She is whatever she needs to be," Seyra said slowly, "in front of whoever is watching."
For a long moment, Orin said nothing.
"And when no one is watching?"
She held his gaze, or at least the mask that hid it. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it.
"I’d rather not say, Alpha."
Silence filled the room.
Then, quietly, almost to himself, he muttered, "Interesting."
He turned toward the window, and the gray light caught the edge of his mask.
"Start with the desk," he said. "Touch only what I point to."
Seyra let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and moved to obey. She started with the desk.
Orin pointed to each item before she touched it. A stack of papers to be squared. An inkpot to be wiped. A dagger she was told to leave exactly where it lay. She worked slowly, her back burning, careful not to make a sound.
She had almost started to breathe normally when he spoke again.
"When you finish, you will not leave."
Seyra froze, the cloth still in her hand.
"Astrid Bruce will be here at noon."
Her stomach dropped.
"You will stand by that wall," Orin said, nodding toward the corner behind his chair. "And when she arrives, you will serve her."
Serve her.
Astrid, walking into this room to be made Lady Royal, while Seyra poured her tea with a whipped back and a maid’s apron.
The same girl who had made her life a nightmare? Who played with her feelings and acted like she was nothing?
The cloth slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor.
How could she refuse this without getting herself killed?