1. If Only It Were Paint

“Mara? Are you alright?” Nora’s voice was low as she attempted a quiet whisper inside the immensely large throne room. We were both in the middle, scrubbing the unblemished floor while on our hands and knees; as we did after every Judgement. But we don’t usually talk while working inside here; Every sound, even the softest, echoes off each surface without the crowds polluting the room.

Off to the side a few other servants, who were repainting the large white columns supporting the balconies, took a glimpse our way, curious but trying to seem uninterested all the same. But I was confused as to why she was asking in the first place. The only pain I had was in my knees, but I didn’t think I was complaining, even if silently. I plopped myself onto the heels of my feet, the butt of my long sleeved, blue dress getting scuffed by my black leather boots. I tossed my scrub brush back into the wooden bucket of sudsy water between us with a soft splash, but Nora kept working as she always does. “Of course?” I dried my hands on my dirty, white apron, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Without looking up, she took one hand and pointed to her head. “Did something scare you, then?”

I didn’t need to ask anything more; I knew exactly what she meant. I quickly stuffed a few stray white hairs back into my bonnet, my heart pounding out of my chest. The soap must have splashed enough droplets on me to start washing away the black dye that covered my long hair. Stupid!

I looked up at the throne that stood 10 stone steps high above the ground with disgust. It’s nothing but a dull chair to me, but the large, Moonstone boulder with a seat carved into it is enough to kill me.

“I must’ve gotten paint in it,” I sheepishly chuckled, hoping to play it off as I hastily got back to work, hoping, begging, she didn’t want to question me any further. I just needed to finish up as fast as possible so I can fix this before it’s too late; If only white hair and blue eyes weren’t just unique, but safe too.

I had always believed it to be a blessing. It meant I was amongst the very last of my bloodline and at first, I felt chosen to carry it on proudly. Instead, though, since 8 years old, I’ve been forced to hide myself from the world because of that very color. This bloodline of ancient abilities challenges every wolf in existence, even when I don’t possess any abilities in the slightest as someone who has a mutt mother and human father. But even so, it’s enough reason for an Alpha and his mate to be spiteful and kill me.

Unlike Nora who can be whoever she wishes and not have to hide it, even as werewolf; Her bloodline is so low that she’ll never have to worry about silly things like dyeing her hair just to survive. I looked back up at her briefly and smiled with yearning jealousy filling my soul. Why did it have to be me who’s cursed with this life?

Suddenly, a loud bang followed by massive heavy, metal chains rattling began filling the room, echoing off the walls and glass ceiling. Everyone’s wide-eyed attention instantly snapped towards the tall, gold embossed wooden doors opening, the noise like a knife to the ears. Without anymore hesitation, we stopped working and frantically gathered our things before rushing over to a column furthest from the throne, our footsteps quiet amongst the pounding noise.

My heart was going to explode, and I felt like I was suffocating. No one was supposed to be coming, otherwise we would’ve scheduled these tasks at a different time; our work is to be seen but not the working, which had always allowed me to hide. But it’s far too late to turn back now, we can only watch while I secretly hope whoever it is, is but a servant using the wrong door.

To be safe, I moved myself to the back of the small group of servants and scrunched down slightly, squeezing my eyelids together hard enough to give myself a tiny headache. Fearful tears started to fall through my eyelashes before rolling down my cheeks and dripping onto my shoes, leaving droplets upon the leather.

Please don’t notice me.

I listened as hard as I could to hear the footsteps approaching, a clue to whomever is to enter, but it was near impossible. The door was deafening, muting any other sound inside the elegant room where the Royal’s throne sat. I clenched my fists, frustrated, and scared, finally opening my eyes.

I hastily looked behind me; the servant’s door was right there. A slim, windowless door that was the same color as the wall to avoid attention. If I ran to it now, no one would hear my footsteps over the chains.

I gulped, looking back to make sure no one was watching before I made the dash. But the moment I looked, the heavy doors finally snapped into the grey stone wall, its chains tightening and silencing. Though, the room didn’t quiet, instead the door’s rattling was replaced with the rhythmic noise of synchronized marching; it was too late to run, I’ll be heard. My head instantly went light and my ears started to hum. I knew whoever was going to enter was far from being a servant, nor close to being a lord or lady even.

The steps I was hearing were undoubtedly a group of Kingsguards, though their steps were muffling out the true threat that walked amidst the center.

I quickly gathered my senses and checked to be sure all my hair was still tucked underneath, rubbing the strands against the rest of my hair to try and temporarily dye them at the very least. Even with just the few strays exposed, I knew it could catch the nose of a powerful werewolf still if they were paying attention.

And the King of Thames, Alpha Vaylor Nox, always pays attention.