Humiliated Before The Court

The next day...

Naeja and Kael’s engagement party was to be held at the palace, a glittering affair meant to display the future king and his chosen queen before the entire pack.

Naeja had made certain I would be there. She had gone to Kael herself and requested that I be assigned to serve. I was certain she did it only so she could flaunt her victory and rub every moment of it in my face.

I had begged her that morning, my voice low and desperate. “I’m not well. Please… assign someone else.”

She had looked at me as if I were something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of her shoe. “You’ll serve, Gwenriel. And you’ll do it with a smile.”

“There are plenty of other maids,” I tried again, forcing myself to remain respectful. “Just for tonight. I don't feel right.”

Naeja slowly rose from her chair, her crimson skirts whispering over the polished floor. She circled me like a predator sizing up wounded prey. “You don't look sick to me.”

“I've been feeling dizzy since yesterday.”

She stopped directly in front of me. “Good. If you faint,” she continued with a smile that never reached her eyes, “everyone will simply assume you're a useless servant. No one will pity you.”

She leaned closer until only I could hear her. “And remember something, Gwenriel. If you dare ruin my engagement party…” Her smile widened. “You'll wish that elixir had killed you.”

A chill ran through me. There was no arguing after that. Madame Bailey shoved a neatly folded servant's uniform into my arms and hurried the rest of us toward the palace before sunrise.

By the time the sun began to set, the palace ballroom glowed with golden light. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling like frozen stars.

Nobles in lavish silks and embroidered jackets filled the space, their laughter and conversation rising in a constant, glittering wave. The air smelled of expensive perfume, roasted meats, and sweet wine.

I moved among them with the other servants, a silver tray balanced carefully in my hands. Every step sent a fresh wave of dizziness through me. My stomach churned.

My skin felt too tight, too hot, and the mark beneath my scarf pulsed with a low, steady heat that made concentration nearly impossible. Still, I kept my head down and offered drinks with quiet politeness, the way a good maid was supposed to.

One of the maids brushed past me. "Gwen," she whispered. "Are you all right? You look pale."

"I'm fine," I replied calmly.

"You don't look fine."

"I just didn't sleep well." She frowned but hurried away before Madame Bailey could catch her talking.

Naeja stood near the center of the room in a gown of deep crimson that clung to her figure like liquid fire. Kael was at her side, tall and composed in black formal attire, the picture of a future king. They looked perfect together. The kind of perfect that made the rest of us invisible.

I was refilling a noblewoman’s glass when the music softened and a hush fell over the crowd. Kael stepped forward, a polished smile on his face.

“My friends,” he began, his voice carrying easily across the ballroom, “tonight we celebrate more than an engagement. We celebrate the future of Daekhar…”

His words blurred.

The dizziness slammed into me without warning. My vision tunneled. A violent wave of nausea rose so fast I barely had time to react.

I spun away from the nearest guests and lunged toward a large ice bucket standing against a pillar, meant for chilling bottles of wine. I vomited hard into it. The sound was unmistakable.

Gasps rippled around me. I tried to straighten, to apologize, to disappear. But my legs gave out. I staggered sideways and collided with a tall guest holding a crystal glass. The glass slipped from both our hands and shattered across the marble floor in a sharp, glittering explosion.

I collapsed.

My knees hit the floor first, then my hands. I curled inward, clutching my stomach as another cramp of nausea and pain rolled through me. The room tilted. Voices rose in shocked murmurs.

“Is she drunk?”

“How disgraceful.”

“A servant, of all people…”

I could barely breathe. Then Naeja was there.

Her crimson skirts filled my blurred vision as she stopped in front of me. For a moment, she simply stared down, her eyes bright with cruel satisfaction. Then her hand cracked across my face so hard that my head snapped to the side.

The slap echoed through the entire ballroom.

“You disgusting little slut,” she hissed, loud enough for half the ballroom to hear. “You couldn’t even control yourself for one night? Look at you, vomiting like a common whore in front of the entire court. Do you know how important tonight is?”

I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off.

"You've made me the laughingstock of the kingdom. Do you have any idea how you’ve embarrassed me? How you’ve embarrassed Prince Kael?”

I tried to speak, to defend myself, but only a weak sound came out. My cheek burned. Tears of pain and humiliation stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

Naeja raised her hand again, ready for a second strike.

Kael stood only a few steps away. His expression was unreadable. Neither angry nor concerned. He simply watched as if waiting to see what would happen next.

Naeja raised her palm to slap me again when a voice cut through the silence like a blade.

“Touch her again,” the voice said, “and I’ll show you the difference between anger and wrath.”