LOGINThe royal carriage rolled through the towering gates of Valenmoor Palace.Emma pressed her forehead lightly against the window.
She had never imagined a place so vast. Towering stone walls stretched toward the sky.
Silver fountains sparkled beneath the afternoon sun. Rows of white marble statues lined the palace courtyard, while hundreds of guards stood motionless in polished black armor.
For a moment… She forgot to breathe. "This is..." She whispered. "...beautiful." The elderly coachman smiled without looking back.
"It becomes less beautiful once you start working." Emma laughed nervously. "I'll remember that."
The carriage finally came to a stop before the servants' entrance rather than the magnificent front gates.
Reality returned immediately. She wasn't here as a guest. She was here as a servant. The carriage door opened.
A stern-looking woman in her late fifties stood waiting. Her silver-streaked hair was tied into a perfect bun.
Every servant standing nearby immediately lowered their heads. "The Head Housekeeper," one maid whispered.
Emma quickly stepped down. The woman looked her up and down. "So..." "You're Emma Rowan."
Emma bowed respectfully. "Yes, ma'am." "I am Margaret." "I oversee every servant inside this palace."
"If you disobey me..." She folded her hands behind her back. "...you leave." Emma nodded.
"Yes, ma'am." "If you gossip..." "You leave." "Yes, ma'am." "If you steal..." "You leave." "Yes, ma'am." Margaret finally gave a small nod. "Good." "You learn quickly."
She turned. "Follow me." Emma hurried after her. As they walked through the palace corridors, Emma couldn't help staring at everything around her.
The polished floors reflected the chandeliers above. Paintings of past Alpha Kings covered the walls.
Royal guards passed every few minutes. Everything felt larger than life. Margaret spoke without turning around.
"Eyes forward." Emma immediately lowered her eyes. "My apologies."
"The palace is not a museum." "No, ma'am." After several turns, they reached the servants' quarters. Margaret stopped beside a small wooden door. "This room is yours." Emma stepped inside. It was tiny.
Just a narrow bed. A wooden wardrobe. A small window overlooking the training grounds. Yet...
Compared to home… It felt luxurious. Margaret handed her a neatly folded black-and-silver servant's uniform.
"Change." "You begin immediately." "So soon?" Margaret raised an eyebrow. "The palace chores don't stop because you're new."
Emma nodded."Yes, Head Housekeeper." "Within minutes she emerged wearing the uniform. Margaret looked her over. "It fits."
The first week nearly broke her. The work began before sunrise and often ended long after midnight.
She scrubbed endless hallways until her hands blistered. She carried buckets heavier than she thought possible. She polished armor, washed uniforms, prepared guest rooms, and cleaned kitchens that never seemed to stay clean.
The other servants laughed whenever she struggled. "The cursed girl won't last a month." "Look at her. She's too fat to keep up."
"I heard even the Moon Goddess rejected her." Emma heard every insult. She answered none of them. Instead...She worked harder.
Months passed. The seasons slowly changed over Valenmoor Palace. Without realizing it, Emma became the servant everyone depended on.
When an elderly maid could no longer carry water, Emma quietly carried it for her.
When a kitchen boy accidentally burned dinner, Emma stayed behind to prepare another meal so he wouldn't lose his job.
When a stable hand injured his leg, she cleaned his wounds before reporting for her own duties.
She never asked for recognition. She simply did what needed to be done. Head Housekeeper Margaret noticed. So did the palace guards.
Even the royal physicians had begun asking, "Where is the Rowan girl?" "She always arrives first."
One chilly autumn morning, Margaret stood silently on the palace balcony, watching Emma help another servant finish her work before beginning her own.
A faint smile touched the older woman's lips. "Kind..." "Hardworking..." "And loyal." She turned to her assistant.
"Prepare the transfer papers." The younger maid blinked. "For whom, Head Housekeeper?"
Margaret looked back at Emma. "Emma Rowan."
"The Crown Prince has been asking for a new personal servant." "I believe..." "He's just found one."
The assistant's eyes widened. "The Crown Prince's personal servant?" "But she's only a common maid." "And..."
She lowered her voice. "...everyone says she's cursed." Margaret's expression hardened. "I choose servants based on character." "Not gossip."
She handed over the sealed order. "Deliver this immediately."
Emma had just finished arranging fresh flowers inside the royal library when a young palace messenger hurried toward her. "Emma Rowan?" She turned.
"Yes?" she handed her a scroll bearing the Grayson royal seal. "By order of the Head Housekeeper..." "You are hereby reassigned."
Emma frowned slightly. "Reassigned?" The messenger smiled."Congratulations."
"Starting today..." "You will serve His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Ethan Grayson... as his personal maid."
Emma's eyes widened. The vase slipped from her hands. Crash! The sound echoed through the silent library. Every servant turned to look at her.
No one could believe what they had just heard.
"The Crown Prince's personal servant?" "Emma Rowan?" "The cursed girl?"
"Head Housekeeper Margaret must have lost her mind." Whispers spread through the room like wildfire.
Emma's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she hurriedly knelt to gather the shattered pieces of the vase.
"I'm sorry..." "It slipped." The messenger simply smiled. "The Head Housekeeper is waiting for you."
Emma looked at the royal seal in her trembling hands. This wasn't a mistake. She had truly been promoted.
A few minutes later… Emma stood outside Margaret Blackwood's office. She took a deep breath before knocking.
"Come in." Emma stepped inside and bowed respectfully. "You asked for me, Head Housekeeper."
Margaret looked up from a stack of documents. "For the past few months, I have watched every servant who entered this palace."
"You have never arrived late." "You have never stolen." "You have never gossiped." "You have never complained." She folded her hands on the desk.
"And despite how poorly some of the others have treated you..." "You have never stopped helping them."
Emma lowered her eyes. "I was only doing my duty." "No." Margaret shook her head.
"You were doing more than your duty." A rare smile crossed the older woman's face.
"That is why you were chosen." Emma blinked. "I... was chosen?" "The Crown Prince requested a servant who is loyal, intelligent and discreet." "I recommended only one name."
"Yours." Emma's heart skipped a beat. "Thank you, Head Housekeeper." "Do not thank me yet."
Margaret's expression immediately became serious again. "The Crown Prince's household is unlike any other assignment in this palace."
She stood and walked toward the window overlooking the palace courtyard. "From this day forward, your life changes."
Emma listened carefully. "You will now serve not only His Royal Highness..." "...but you will also find yourself in the presence of His Majesty, Alpha King Jasper Grayson, far more often."
Emma instinctively straightened. Everyone in Valenmoor knew that name. Even children lowered their voices whenever they spoke.
Margaret turned to face her. "There are rules." "You will memorize every one of them."
Emma nodded. "Yes, Head Housekeeper." Margaret began counting them slowly. "Rule One."
"The Crown Prince's schedule is your schedule." "If he wakes before dawn..." "So do you."
"If he rides into battle..." "You prepare everything before he asks." Emma nodded.
"Rule Two." "What you hear inside the prince's chambers..." "Never leaves them."
"Not to servants." "Not to friends." "Not even to your own family." “Not even to me”.
Emma swallowed. "I understand."
"Rule Three." "You speak only when spoken to." "You do not interrupt royal conversations."
"You do not offer opinions unless asked." "Yes, Head Housekeeper." Margaret's face grew even more solemn.
"Rule Four..." "The most important rule of all." "If His Majesty enters a room..." "You lower your head immediately." "You do not look into his eyes." "You do not speak unless His Majesty addresses you first."
Emma frowned slightly. "Why?" Margaret's eyes hardened. "Because Alpha King Jasper Grayson is not a man to be studied."
"He is a king." "A conqueror." "The man who personally leads our armies into war."
"He has buried more enemies than most soldiers have ever seen." "When neighboring kingdoms see the Black Wolf banner..."
"They surrender before the battle even begins." Emma had heard the stories.
The Ruthless King. The king who hadn't lost a single war in twenty years. The king who showed no mercy to traitors.
Margaret continued. "Since Queen Isabella died..." "His Majesty has become... colder."
"He speaks little." "He smiles even less." "No servant dares meet his eyes."
"The foolish ones who have forgotten themselves never make the same mistake twice."
Emma felt a chill run down her spine. Margaret stepped closer. "I am not telling you this to frighten you." "I am telling you this to keep you alive." Emma nodded firmly.
"I'll remember." Margaret studied her for a long moment before handing her a new uniform embroidered with silver thread instead of plain black.
"The uniform of the Crown Prince's personal servant." "Wear it with honor." Emma accepted it with both hands.
"I won't disappoint you. "I know." Margaret walked back to her desk. "The Crown Prince returns from military training within the hour."
She picked up another scroll and sealed it. "When he arrives..." "You will report directly to his private chambers." Emma took a slow breath.
Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain Margaret could hear it. After months of scrubbing floors and cleaning hallways...
She was finally about to meet the future Alpha King of Valenmoor. She had no idea...
That this single assignment would lead her to the greatest love of her life...
And the greatest heartbreak she would ever endure.
Marcus listened to the whole of it without interrupting, standing at the war room table with his arms crossed, his face carved into the particular stillness Emma had learned meant he was working hard not to react visibly.When Emma finished, he was quiet for a long moment."You went into a sealed passage beneath the Temple," he said finally, "without telling me first.""We didn't know what we'd find. We didn't want to risk—""You didn't want to risk me telling you not to go." Marcus's voice stayed level, though something sharp lived underneath it now. "Your Majesty, I understand the instinct. I even understand the reasoning. But I cannot protect what I don't know about. If something had happened to either of you down there, I would have had no idea where to even begin looking.""Something did happen," Ethan said quietly. "To Lucien."Marcus's jaw tightened. "Show me the blood."They went to the chapel together, the three of them, moving quickly and quietly through corridors still most
They didn't part ways at the palace gates the way they should have. Ethan followed her as far as the small garden off the east corridor, and neither of them said anything about why, both of them simply understanding that whatever had just happened in that sanctum chamber wasn't finished being felt yet.Emma sat on the low stone wall, the ancient book still clutched against her chest beneath her cloak, and Ethan stood a few feet away, staring at nothing, his hands opening and closing at his sides like he didn't know what to do with them."Say it," Emma said quietly."Say what.""Whatever's sitting behind your teeth right now. I can see it. You've been carrying it since we left the Temple."Ethan's jaw worked. For a long moment he didn't speak at all, and when he finally did, his voice came out raw, stripped of every careful wall he usually kept around it."I destroyed your life for nothing." The words cracked in the middle. "That's what I keep thinking. Over and over, since we read tha
The passage began behind the Temple's deepest altar, a stone panel Lucien pressed in a sequence he'd clearly rehearsed in his head a hundred times over thirty years, never once trusting himself to use it.It groaned open into darkness thick enough to taste, old air that hadn't moved in longer than any of them had been alive."This hasn't been opened since before I was ordained," Lucien said, his voice unsteady as he held a single lantern aloft in one trembling hand. "I was shown it once, as a young priest, told it existed only as formality. I never imagined I'd be the one to use it."Emma went first, Ethan close behind her, the narrow stone stairway descending further than she expected, the air growing colder and stale with every step."How much further?" she asked quietly."Not far now." Lucien's voice carried an odd steadiness now, the particular calm of a man who'd finally stopped fighting the thing he'd feared for decades. "The passage runs beneath the Temple grounds, under the ol
They went to the Temple together, after dark, the way Ethan had learned to move through it alone these past months, quiet, careful, avoiding the acolytes' rounds.Lucien was in the small chapel again, the same one where Emma had first tried and failed to get anything real out of him. He startled badly when the door opened, badly enough that Emma understood, watching him, exactly how thin his nerves had worn."Your Majesty." His eyes moved past her to Ethan, and something in his face went grey. "Your Highness. Both of you. At this hour.""We need to talk to you," Emma said. "Really talk, this time.""I've told you what I can.""You've told me what you were willing to risk telling me alone." Emma crossed the chapel, Ethan a step behind her. "We're not alone anymore, Lucien. We know about the Order. We know about the letter. We know someone scraped an entry from your own archive's index thirty years ago, and we know exactly what kind of man has had the standing to do something like that
He came alone, as she'd asked, and he came fast enough that Emma suspected he hadn't slept any more than she had."Your message said it was urgent.""Close the door."He did, and something in the set of his shoulders told her he understood, before she'd said anything further, that this wasn't going to be the conversation they'd both carefully avoided finishing that afternoon.Emma set the journal on the desk between them without preamble."Isabella's," she said. "I found it in her sealed chambers, weeks ago. I've told no one. Not Jasper. Not Naya. I've been carrying it alone because I didn't know who I could trust with it."Ethan's face went very still. He reached for it slowly, as if it might burn him, and opened to the marked page with hands that weren't quite steady."Victor smiles too easily for a man carrying the burdens he claims to carry." His voice came out rough, reading it aloud. "She wrote this.""Twenty years ago. Before she died." Emma watched him take in the torn pages,
The rider came in on a half-dead horse just past midnight, and Emma was awake to hear the commotion at the gate before anyone thought to wake her properly.She was in the courtyard in her robe, hair still loose, by the time they got him down off the horse. Young, filthy with road dust, one arm wrapped crudely where something had clearly gone wrong somewhere along the ride."Your Majesty." He swayed, and a guard caught his elbow before he went down entirely. "Message from His Majesty. Urgent.""Is he hurt?""No, Your Majesty. Not when I left him." The rider fumbled at his coat with his good hand, producing a folded, travel-worn letter, the seal already cracked from being checked and rechecked along the road. "He said to put it in your hands myself. No one else's."Emma took it with fingers that weren't quite steady, and sent the rider off to the physicians with Naya trailing behind, already fussing over his arm before Emma had even broken the seal.She read it standing in the cold cour







