It began with whispers.
Not the kind traded in grand halls or during court gatherings — but the softer, secretive kind that lingered behind half-open doors and in hurried footsteps.
Zelene hadn't meant to listen. But once you hear something off, it's hard not to start noticing the cracks.
At first, it was the food. A kitchen maid stammering about why certain trays always went to "the upper floor" — lavish portions meant for the Head Maid's chosen few. Then, it was the laundering lists — names of servants missing from the roster, yet somehow still being paid. And then, of course, the bruises.
Bruises that were never spoken of, only covered.
Zelene found herself walking the lesser halls of Dravenhart — the ones Kael never bothered with. Here, the stone walls weren't polished, the air smelled faintly of damp linen, and the people moved with the fearful grace of those who'd learned that silence was safer than complaint.
Ray followed quietly a few paces behind her, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning without expression.
He rarely spoke, but somehow, she never needed him to. His presence was enough.
"You ever get the feeling," Zelene murmured, voice barely above a whisper, "that this place is too clean? Like everyone's rehearsing how to breathe?"
Ray's silence was his answer.
Zelene smiled faintly. "Yeah. Thought so."
As they turned the corner near the service wing, her sharp eyes caught a flash of movement — a scullery maid hastily stuffing something into her apron. Zelene slowed.
"Stop."
The maid froze, paling as she realized who stood before her. "M-My Lady!"
Zelene's tone was calm but firm. "What's that?"
The girl hesitated, glancing toward the corridor. "I—It's just extra bread, My Lady. For my brother. He's sick—"
"Bread?" Zelene held out her hand. "Show me."
The maid's hands trembled as she revealed a wrapped bundle. Inside wasn't bread — it was a folded parchment, sealed with dark red wax.
Zelene's stomach sank. "Where did you get this?"
The girl's eyes darted everywhere but her face. "Mistress Miren said to deliver it to the courier before noon. Please, My Lady, I didn't read it! She'll—"
"She'll what?"
The girl's breath hitched, tears pooling in her eyes. "She'll send me away. Or worse."
Zelene studied the trembling servant for a long, heavy moment — then softened. "You didn't do anything wrong."
She took the parchment, fingers brushing the wax seal — no crest, no insignia. Deliberately anonymous.
Zelene slipped it into her sleeve and nodded to Ray. "Make sure she gets home. Quietly."
Ray inclined his head, guiding the terrified maid down a side corridor.
When they were gone, Zelene exhaled. The stillness of the hallway pressed against her like a weight.
Miren.
She should've guessed. The woman carried herself like she owned the manor — perhaps, in a way, she did. Kael was too absorbed in the politics of the outside world to see what his own halls had become.
Zelene turned the parchment over in her hands, heart thudding.
She could destroy it. Pretend she saw nothing. That would be easier — safer.
But something about the way Miren looked at her yesterday — all cool defiance behind practiced respect — made her blood simmer.
No. She needed to know.
Later that night, in the dim glow of her chamber candles, Zelene broke the seal.
The message inside was short. Only a few lines — yet enough to steal the air from her lungs.
"Her safety is being questioned. You were right — he's distracted. The girl's presence weakens his guard. Continue watching. Payment will come after confirmation."
Her fingers tightened around the parchment until it crumpled.
So that was it.
Miren wasn't just cruel — she was reporting. Someone inside the manor was feeding information to Kael's enemies.
And whoever wrote this letter wanted Zelene gone — not for who she was, but because of what she meant to Kael.
She stared at the dying candle flame, her thoughts heavy.
For all his power, Kael couldn't see this — the quiet betrayal growing like rot beneath his feet.
Zelene straightened, eyes hardening. She didn't know what scared her more — the fact that Miren was working with their enemies, or that Kael might already suspect it… and was keeping silent.
Either way, one thing was certain:
If she wanted to survive in this house — and protect him — she'd have to become part of the shadow herself.