Esmira (Enora)
I stopped breathing as the implications dawned on me.
Lord Aven didn’t want me pregnant to protect my position.
He didn’t want an heir to legitimise the marriage.
He wanted a child — a child with Valdren royal blood and Ceranthian royal claim — that House Sorvane could use to extend their control across the border and into Eldric’s kingdom.
How sick was this man?
Using an innocent child to advance his ambitions.
So, my body and my womb were just another tool in his collection?
Footsteps moved toward the door, followed by the rustle of coats and low murmurs.
“Keep me informed on all fronts,” Lord Aven said.
“And find that earring.”
“Yes, my lord,” Jon and Varek murmured in unison.
The library door opened and closed, leaving us with silence.
I counted to fifty before I allowed myself to breathe again, my chest heaving, my body trembling with everything I’d heard.
When I was satisfied the library was empty, I peeled myself away from the bookcase and sank to the floor, my legs too weak to hold me up.
My hand went to my pocket, and I felt the hard shape of the earring pressing through the fabric of my gown.
A Ceranthian bloodstone serpent earring, connected to Lysara’s jewellery, found where a princess had bled to death, and Lord Aven wanted it back.
I turned to the girl.
She was still crouched in her gap, her knuckles white around the leather-bound book, her face streaked with silent tears.
We stared at each other.
No matter what happened next, she was now an accomplice to Princess Esmira’s death, just like me.
“We need to talk,” I said quietly.
“But not here.”
We took the hidden passage back.
The girl followed me through the dark corridor in silence, her breathing quick and shallow behind me, the leather-bound book still pressed against her chest.
When we emerged through the tapestry into the queen’s chambers, she blinked in the light and stood uncertainly near the wall, looking like a rabbit that had wandered into a wolf’s den.
The maid Lord Aven had assigned was nowhere in sight.
I closed the door and turned to the girl.
She was staring at me with that same unnerving expression — half fear, half wonder — as though she were looking at a ghost wearing a familiar face.
“You look so much like her,” she whispered.
“When I saw you in the library, I thought for a moment she was still alive. If I hadn’t seen her die right before me, I would have believed otherwise.”
There was no use trying to deny that I wasn’t Princess Esmira now.
She’d heard everything the Sorvanes had said.
“Like Princess Esmira?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“You’re almost identical. The face, the build, the hair. The only difference is the skin tone. She was a shade lighter but in dim light, or behind a veil…” She trailed off.
I remembered Lord Aven’s assessment the first time we’d met.
He’d made a similar comment.
Could this be why Alpha Eldric hadn’t recognised that I wasn’t his daughter?
Was it even possible to look this much like the dead princess?
“What’s your name?” I asked gently.
“Maren.” She wiped her eyes with a dusty sleeve.
“I’m — I was — a temporary maid brought in for the wedding preparations.”
“Maren.” I guided her to the settee near the window and sat beside her.
“What were you doing at the library? And if you were a temporary maid, how did you know Princess Esmira?”
I’d been a temporary maid too and hadn’t been allowed anywhere near the main palace where the king and queen resided.
I’d never even seen Princess Esmira.
So either Maren had seen her when she arrived, or she was lying.
“At first, I didn’t know she was the princess,” Maren said.
Her eyes moved down to the book still clutched to her chest.
“Not until she gave me this.”
“You met the princess?” I tried to hide the urgency in my voice.
She didn’t say anything.
I drew in a long breath.
“Maren, listen to me. I don’t want to resort to desperation, but you’re the only person aside from House Sorvane who knows that I’m not the real Princess Esmira. If you don’t give me enough reason as to why I shouldn’t report you to Lord Aven—” I trailed off.
She raised her eyes to me.
They were filled with disbelief.
“You won’t do that to me.”
“I would, Maren.” I shook my head slowly, hating the words coming from my mouth.
“You heard them. The moment I stop being useful, I’ll be disposed of too, and I don’t want to die. If I can find anything that would help preserve our lives, perhaps I won’t be forced to report this to Lord Aven. So I need you to tell me everything — whatever you know — from the beginning.”
She was quiet for a moment, her fingers running along the cracked spine of the book.
Then she drew a shaky breath and spoke.
“The night before the wedding, I was exhausted. We’d been working since before dawn — polishing, arranging, carrying things to the ballroom. By evening, I could barely stand. I’d heard from the other maids that the east wing corridor was always empty and had a lot of unused rooms—” She trailed off as tears welled in her eyes.
I grabbed a piece of cloth and handed it to her.
“What happened next?”
“I was sent to deliver some items to the kitchen, and I took that opportunity to sneak out to the east wing. I found an empty room and lay down to rest my eyes for a few minutes.” She paused.
“I woke to noise.”
That was the same noise I’d heard and gone to investigate.
Maren had been in that corridor when the princess was killed.
“It was a loud crash,” she continued, “and then a cry, like someone had tried to scream and been cut off. I didn’t know what time it was, but the corridor outside was almost dark and empty.”
“Can you remember if it was before or after the evening bell?”
She shook her head slowly.
“I lost track of time entirely.”
“What did you do when you heard the noise?”
“I opened the door and looked out. That’s when I saw her.” Her voice dropped.
“Who did you see?” My heart was pounding fiercely now.
“L-Lady Lysara,” Maren murmured.
“She was hurrying away from the library, moving fast, her head down, her cloak pulled tight around her. She didn’t see me because I was in the shadow of the doorway.”