Esmira (Enora)
“My name is Enora Hale,” I said.
“I’m from a village called Dunmere. I worked as a butcher’s handmaid when soldiers came for me on the morning of the royal wedding and forced me to take the princess’s place. I didn’t have a choice.”
It was close enough to the truth.
Maren stared at me for a long time, as if she was having difficulty believing me.
“They just… took you like that? And asked you to replace her, like they were changing a dress?”
“Didn’t you hear what Lord Aven said in the library just now?”
“I heard him,” Maren nodded.
“But how did he know you’d be the perfect fit for the princess? Have you ever met him before?”
I needed a backstory to make the lie solid.
There was no way Lord Aven could have known that a common girl in Dunmere resembled the princess — not without a reason.
“The butcher I worked for was in charge of supplying meat to the palace,” I said quickly.
“Lord Aven had seen me more than once during deliveries.”
That seemed to satisfy Maren.
She sighed and turned to look out the window.
“It’s a shame too that they’ll dispose of you when they get what they want. All I want right now is to find a way to get this diary to Alpha King Eldric. I need to fulfil the princess’s last wish.”
Fear rushed to my heart, and for a moment, I considered snatching the book from her hands.
But I controlled the impulse.
I needed to be more tactical.
“If you take this diary to Alpha Eldric,” I started carefully, “he’ll learn his daughter is dead and war will break out within days. Her marriage to Alpha Roderic is the only reason there’s peace, and we don’t want to shatter that.”
“But—”
“But nothing, Maren.” I cut her off.
“Alpha Eldric will burn this kingdom to the ground, and I’ll be the first person he kills. The girl who dared to wear his daughter’s crown.” I held her gaze.
“And you, the only witness to what really happened, won’t be far behind.”
“What are you talking about?” she whispered.
“I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“You think that matters?” I scoffed, the desperation making me sharper than I intended.
“You had every chance to call for help when you first saw the princess lying in a pool of her own blood in that library, but you cowered and hid like a fool.”
Maren’s fingers tightened on the book.
“I-I don’t — that wasn’t what—”
“No one will hear your excuses, Maren. I’ve met Alpha Eldric. I’ve played Luna for four days now, so I know these people better than you do. You’re a common girl, and no one would be patient enough to listen to your side of the story.” This chapter was taken from NovelPing without permission.
Her face had gone pale, and her fingers trembled.
I hated myself for doing this, for using Lord Aven’s tactics on a girl who was just as trapped as I was.
But I had no choice.
If Maren walked out of this room with that diary and went looking for Eldric, we were both dead.
I softened my voice.
“I know you’re tired. I know you’re scared and you’ve been carrying this alone for days and it’s been tearing you apart. But if we’re smart and careful, this diary doesn’t have to be a death sentence. It can be a shield, our way to negotiate and take back our lives.”
“A shield?”
“Yes.” I leaned closer until I could see my reflection in her eyes.
“I need to learn who Esmira was. How she spoke, what she knew, who she loved and who she feared. If I don’t, someone will notice, and everything collapses.” I reached out and placed my hand gently over hers on the book.
“Let me hold this, study it and in return, I’ll protect you.”
“How?” Her voice cracked.
“How can you protect me? You can barely protect yourself.”
“You heard Lord Jon say he’s replaced all the maids in my chambers with Sorvane people. But he doesn’t know every face. If you become one of my attendants, you’ll be safe. You’ll be just another servant in a palace full of servants.” I squeezed her hand.
She gently removed her hand from mine.
“That’s not enough, Enora.” She shook her head.
“You’re a weak link. You won’t offer me enough protection.”
The words stung because they were true.
But the truth had never stopped me before.
“Fine, I can’t promise safety,” I said.
“No one in this palace can.
But I can promise that your secrets will be safe with me.
Besides—” I held her gaze steadily, “do you really think Lord Aven would allow you to walk up to Alpha Eldric and just hand over the book?
You’d be dead before you crossed the threshold.”
She stared at me.
The morning light caught the tears still clinging to her lashes and the exhaustion carved into every line of her young face.
She was someone’s daughter too, someone who was probably wondering where she was and whether she was alive.
“Can you really protect me?” she whispered.
“I’ve surpassed his expectations so far, and I intend to keep doing that. I just need you to trust me. Please.”
Something flickered in her eyes.
Then she looked down at the diary in her hands.
Her fingers traced the gold initials on the cover.
E.E.
Slowly, she extended the book toward me.
“Although the princess was anything but kind, she still didn’t deserve to die like that.” A tear slipped down her cheek.
“Please don’t let her death be for nothing.”
I took the diary.
The leather was warm from Maren’s hands, worn smooth from being clutched too long by fingers too afraid to let go.
“I won’t,” I said.
And just to assure her, I added, “Did you go through the diary at all? What does it say?”
“I did open it in the beginning, but it’s written in the old tongue,” Maren said quietly.
“I was never given any formal education, so I couldn’t read it.”
I hastily opened the diary and swallowed with frustration when strange symbols and unfamiliar words stared back at me.
Commoners like us, whether educated or not, never had the privilege of learning the old tongue.
It was the language of royalty, of Bloodright wolves, of a world we were never meant to enter.
“Don’t worry,” I said, flashing her a nervous smile.
“I’ll find a way.”
Maren nodded and wiped her face.
She straightened her dust-streaked uniform and looked at me with an expression that had shifted from fear to something closer to cautious resolve.
“I’ll work in the kitchen for now,” she said.
“You don’t know House Sorvane the way I do, but they rarely make mistakes, and Lord Jon may seem like he has his head in the clouds, but he knows every single face in the queen’s chambers. If I show up there unannounced, he’ll notice.” She paused.
“Don’t worry. We’ll find a way to communicate. Since you’re the Luna—” She caught herself, as though the word still felt strange applied to me.
“It’ll be easier for you to summon me at your discretion.”
I nodded.
“Thank you, Maren. You’ve given me a reason to keep going.”
She held my gaze for a moment, then turned and left through the main door, slipping into the corridor.
Long after she was gone, I sat alone on the settee, the diary open in my lap, staring at the strange words written in a language I couldn’t read.
Would I ever truly become Esmira?