GREETINGS MAYA

MAYA

She liked staying around me.

Every single morning when I stepped out into the palace courtyard or walked down the grand marble corridors, Grandmother would be there in her human form—a small, stooped woman with deep wrinkles around her dark eyes, wearing a traditional woven shawl over her shoulders. The moment her eyes met mine, she would lower her head in a quiet, respectful bow.

Grandmother greets me every morning, and Maria and Clara did not like that.

Maria’s face would turn bright red with fury every time she witnessed it. She would grip her dress so tightly her knuckles turned white, her eyes flashing with pure hatred as she watched the old woman treat a housemaid like royalty.

Maria yelled at her each time she bows to greet me.

"Stop doing that!" Maria barked at her one morning near the grand staircase, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "She is a servant! She is a disgraced breeder who lost her child! You are an elder, why are you bowing to a nobody?!"

Grandmother slowly straightened her back, looking at Maria with those old, wise eyes that seemed to look right through her skin.

"This soul here is not ordinary," Grandmother would always reply, her voice calm and steady like an ancient river. "You see a maid with your eyes, Luna Maria, but my spirit sees the shadow of a crown."

Maria let out a sharp, bitter laugh, turning her wrath toward Clara, who stood shivering behind her.

"Talk to your grandmother to retrace her steps and conduct in this house, or she leaves!" Maria told Clara, poking a sharp finger into the young girl's chest. "I am paying for her stay here! I brought her to cleanse this house of evil spirits, not to worship my enemies!"

Clara whimpered, tugging on her grandmother's shawl. "Grandmother, please... listen to the Luna! You are going to get us thrown out into the streets!"

But the woman simply enjoys being around me.

She ignored Clara’s pleas and Maria’s threats entirely. Whenever I sat in the garden to mend clothes or swept the stone tiles by the fountain, Grandmother would come and sit nearby, watching me with a peaceful, knowing look in her eyes. It was as if she found comfort in the aura of Princess Philomena that radiated from my skin.

"Why did you come here?" I asked her in one of our usual evening discussions at the poolside.

The sun was setting behind the jagged mountains, casting a soft, golden light over the clear blue water. I was sitting on the wooden bench, dipping my bare feet into the cool pool, while Grandmother sat beside me, wrapping her shawl tight against the evening chill.

Grandmother sighed softly, looking out over the water with a sad, heavy expression.

"My grandchild lost hope in life, till Maria, the Alpha's wife, approached her to be the breeder for the Alpha," Grandmother said quietly. "That was a good means for her to get to college. Clara’s parents died years ago, Maya. She has no one to pay her fees, no one to guide her. When Maria offered her gold and a promise of an education in exchange for bearing a child for the Alpha, my grandchild thought her prayers had been answered."

My heart squeezed with a sudden, painful ache as I listened to her words.

I wondered if she knew that she was using Clara for sexual satisfaction. I looked at the old woman's wrinkled face, seeing the genuine love and worry she had for her grandchild. Did Grandmother have any idea about the sick, corrupt things Maria was doing to Clara behind closed doors? Did she know that Clara was not being prepared to bear an Alpha’s heir, but was being used as a helpless puppet for a monster’s dark desires?

Grandmother turned her head, looking at me with deep, apologetic eyes.

"Grandmother is not happy that you were here and still young to have a child, and yet Maria went and brought another to replace you," she whispered, her voice trembling with genuine sorrow. "It is a sin against the Moon Goddess to push a marked wife aside. It is a sin to treat a mother who lost her child with such cruelty."

"You came here to banish my spirit, didn't you?" I asked softly, looking down at my reflection in the quiet water.

Grandmother shook her head, letting out a low, raspy huff.

"My power becomes useless if I support or do evil," she said firmly. "I am a spiritual elder of the earth. My magic comes from truth and justice. The moment I stepped into this palace, I smelled the rot in Maria's heart, and I felt the divine light on your soul. If I use my ancestral magic to hurt a soul chosen by the Goddess, my own ancestors will strip me of my power and leave me blind."

I looked at her, a profound sense of relief washing over my weary chest. For the first time since my return, I had found a true ally inside these cursed walls—someone who saw the truth without being blinded by Maria’s lies.

Later that evening, the night fell heavy and dark over the palace.

I walked down the second-floor corridor, carrying a pitcher of fresh water for the guest chambers. The hallway was quiet, lit only by the flickering flame of a few wall torches. As I passed by the half-open door of Clara’s room, a sound broke through the stillness—a soft, breathless whimpering that made my blood run ice-cold.

I paused, setting the heavy brass pitcher down onto the wooden floorboards. I stepped closer to the narrow crack in the door, holding my breath as I peered inside.

Then this evening, I walked into Maria and Clara doing the pussy sucking.

They were on the silk sheets of the bed. Maria was kneeling over Clara, her face buried between the young girl's legs, her hands gripping Clara’s thighs with a terrifying, possessive force. Clara was crying quietly, her hands clutching the pillows, looking up at the ceiling with eyes that were completely empty of life.

A wave of pure, scorching rage exploded behind my eyes. The old woman’s words echoed in my head—Clara just wanted to go to college. Clara lost hope in life. Maria was exploiting a poor, helpless girl’s desperation, turning her into a slave for her own sick satisfaction while lying to the entire territory that Clara was an honored breeder!

I couldn't stand there and watch it for another second.

And then I had to use the picture on the wall to make their head spin.

I backed out of the doorway, turning my head sharply to lock my eyes onto the massive portrait of Princess Philomena hanging right across the corridor. I channeled every drop of my fury, my hatred for Maria’s evil, and the full authority of my reincarnated soul straight into the painted eyes of the canvas.

Crush them! I commanded in my mind. Make them suffer!

Instantly, a freezing, howling wind rushed through the hallway, slamming the heavy wooden door wide open! The golden frame of the portrait shivered, and a massive, invisible wave of ancestral pressure crashed directly into the bedroom!

"AHHHHHHH!" Maria screamed, dropping off the bed onto the floor, clutching her head as her vision spun wildly out of control. "My brain! My brain is bursting!"

Clara shrieked in agony, rolling across the silk sheets, weeping and grabbing her temples as the room twisted into a terrifying vortex inside her mind.

The sick act was cut short instantly. Both of them were flat on their hands and knees, sobbing, groaning, and screaming in agony as the ancestral magic tore through their senses.

I picked up my brass pitcher, a cold, victorious smile touching my lips as I walked away into the dark hallway, leaving their desperate cries echoing behind me.

The next morning.

The sun rose bright and clear, casting warm beams of light across the courtyard. I stepped out onto the stone porch with a basket of dirty linen, expecting to see Grandmother waiting by the fountain as usual to give me her daily bow.

She was standing there, but her face was no longer soft and peaceful.

She looked at me with deep, fiery anger in her eyes, her lips pressed into a tight, severe line as she stepped forward to block my path.

"My dear friend Grandmother," I began softly, lowering my basket to greet her.

"For hurting my granddaughter, I will ruin your power!" Grandmother cut me off, her voice sharp, bitter, and vibrating with an intense spiritual energy that made the air around us turn cold.

I froze in utter shock, my breath catching in my throat.

"Grandmother..." I stammered, looking at her in complete confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You used the dark spell last night!" the old woman hissed, stepping closer, her dark eyes flashing with pure rage. "You used the picture on the wall to spin their heads! Maria was hurt, but Clara—my innocent grandchild—was screaming in agony all night! She is lying in bed right now, throwing up blood and crying that her head feels like it is splitting in two!"

My heart dropped into a bottomless, freezing abyss.

"I... I didn't mean to hurt Clara," I whispered, my voice trembling with genuine guilt. "I was trying to stop Maria! I was trying to punish the evil woman for what she was doing to your grandchild!"

"Clara is young! She is weak! Her spirit cannot handle the heavy force of Princess Philomena's soul!" Grandmother cried out, tears of anger spilling over her wrinkled cheeks. "You claim to be a righteous soul on a mission of justice, Maya, but you hit my innocent child with the same whip you used on the monster! If you harm my blood again, I will use every ancient rune I possess to lock that portrait forever and strip your power away!"

She turned on her heel, her heavy woven shawl whipping around her shoulders as she marched toward the palace steps to check on her grandchild, leaving me standing alone in the cold sunlight.

I stood there on the porch, my hands shaking violently as I clutched the wooden handle of my basket. A heavy, suffocating cloud of anxiety settled over my chest.

I am only worried about how she was so sure I was the one that caused the head spin.

How did she know?

I hadn't spoken a word last night. I hadn't stepped fully into the room. I had only looked at the picture on the wall from the hallway! Yet, Grandmother had known instantly that the attack came directly from me.

Did she have a way of tracking the ancestral magic? Could she smell the connection between my soul and the portrait? And if an old herbalist from a small village could identify my power so easily... how long would it take before Maria figured out the exact same truth?

I looked up at the towering stone walls of the palace, my mind racing with fear and uncertainty. The power of Princess Philomena was a double-edged sword. If I wasn't careful, my rage would destroy the very people I wanted to save—and hand my enemies the key to my ultimate downfall.