chapter 5: the servant role

The first order came three days after Lena moved in.

I was in the kitchen, scrubbing a pot, when I heard the soft shuffle of her slippers against the tile. She appeared in the doorway with one hand resting on the curve of her belly, her hair loose around her shoulders.

"Elara," she said, her voice sweet as honey. "Would you mind making me a cup of tea? The baby's been kicking all morning, and I can barely stand."

I dried my hands on a towel. "Of course."

She smiled and settled into a chair at the kitchen table, watching me fill the kettle. "Chamomile, if you have it. With honey. Not sugar."

I nodded and reached for the tea tin.

"And maybe some of those biscuits from yesterday? The ones with the lemon glaze?"

I set the kettle on the stove and crossed to the pantry. My hands were steady, but something inside me was trembling. This was my kitchen,my home and she was sitting at my table, giving orders like she owned it.

By the time I set the tea and biscuits in front of her, she had another request.

"My shawl," she said, taking a delicate sip of tea. "The blue one. It's upstairs in the guest room. I'm feeling a chill."

I stood there for a moment, the towel still in my hands. Then I set it down and walked upstairs to get the shawl.

Dinner that night was a quiet kind of torture. Lena sat beside Julian, her chair pulled close to his, her hand resting on his forearm as she talked. She talked about the baby,the cravings, the kicks, the way it responded to Julian's voice when he spoke.

"He knows his father already," she said, her eyes bright. "Every time Julian talks, he moves. It's like he's listening."

Julian smiled and placed his hand over hers on her belly. "He's going to be strong," he said. "Like his father."

I sat across from them, my plate of food untouched, my eyes fixed on the food on the table. The food I had cooked sat cooling in front of me,roasted chicken, vegetables, fresh bread. I had spent hours preparing it, as I always did, because that was what a good Luna did,a good wife.

But I wasn't a wife anymore,i was a ghost.

"Elara," Julian said, his voice pulling me from my thoughts. "You're not eating."

I looked up. He was watching me with something that might have been concern or might have been guilt. It was hard to tell the difference anymore.

"I'm not hungry," I said.

Lena glanced at me, her expression unreadable. Then she turned back to Julian and continued her story about the baby's kicks.

I excused myself before dessert.

——

The pack gathering was held three days later. I stood beside Julian at the entrance to the gathering hall, my hand resting lightly on his arm, my fake smile fixed in place. Lena stood on his other side, dressed in a soft blue gown that made her look ethereal and glowing.

"Distant cousin," Julian murmured as the first pack members approached. "From the Northern Territory. Here to visit for a few months."

I nodded and smiled as a group of wolves approached,the Blackwood family, old allies of the pack. Mrs. Blackwood, a plump woman with kind eyes and a sharp tongue, looked at Lena with obvious curiosity.

"And who is this?" she asked.

I stepped forward before Julian could speak. "This is Lena," I said, my voice warm and gracious. "A distant cousin from the Northern Territory. She's staying with us while she recovers from a difficult pregnancy."

Mrs. Blackwood's eyes flickered to Lena's belly. "How lovely and you, Luna Elara? How are you feeling these days?"

The question hung in the air, filled with meaning. I knew what she was really asking,the same thing everyone in the pack was asking. Was I still barren? Was Julian still without an heir?

"I'm well," I said, my smile never wavering. "The pack has been so supportive. We're hopeful for the future."

The cruelest moment came later that evening. I was serving tea to Lena and her friends as I have been ordered by margrat to take care of her as she’s carrying Julian’s baby. three women from the pack who had taken an immediate liking to her, drawn in by her charm and her glowing pregnancy. They sat in a circle near the fireplace, their voices low.

"Luna Elara," one of them said,Mrs. Harlow, a thin woman with a pinched face and sharp eyes. "How kind of you to serve us yourself. Most Lunas would have a servant for this."

I forced a smile. "I don't mind."

Lena took a sip of her tea. "Elara has been so helpful," she said, her voice sweet. "I don't know what I would do without her."

Mrs. Harlow's eyes flickered between us. "It must be difficult," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Being a Luna without an heir. I've heard the rumors, of course. Barren Lunas are such a tragedy."

The word hit me like a slap. Barren.

Lena laughed,a soft, tinkling sound. "Oh, I'm sure Elara will find her purpose eventually," she said. "Some women just aren't meant to be mothers."

My hand trembled around the teapot. I set it down carefully on the tray and straightened, my face a masm of calmness. "If you'll excuse me," I said, "I need to check on the kitchen." I walked away before they could see the tears burning in my eyes.

That night, I stood in front of the mirror in my small guest room and didn't recognize the woman staring back at me.

She was pale,paler than I had ever been. Her cheekbones stood out sharply against her skin, and her eyes were hollow, with dark circles. She had lost weight and she had lost herself.

"How much more?" I whispered to the reflection. "How much more can I take?"

The woman in the mirror didn't answer. She just stared back at me with empty eyes, a ghost of the Luna I had once been. I pressed my hand to my stomach, where my secret still grew, hidden and safe.

"I'm still here," I whispered. "I'm still fighting."

But even as I said it, I wondered if it was true.