I was still bothered by the painting I’d seen the day before, but I pushed the thought aside. I had a more urgent situation to deal with: Amari had sent me a message asking for an update.
I didn’t know how Amari had managed it, but I found the message under my plate of hotdogs during dinner. With Chaos sitting right across from me, I nearly had a heart attack when I noticed the paper barely hidden beneath the plate. Thankfully, I was wearing a dress with long sleeves, so I was able to discreetly slip the paper under my right sleeve.
I excused myself immediately after dinner, claiming I was exhausted. Chaos seemed disappointed but didn’t protest. He simply escorted me to my room and kissed me goodnight.
That was close.
Now, alone in my room, I stared at the message. I had nothing to report—no progress, no leads. Worse, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to reveal anything about Chaos. It felt like no matter what I did, I’d be betraying someone.
The next morning, I decided to have breakfast in the kitchen with the servants, hoping to distract myself from my dilemma. I was halfway through my third bite of banana bread when one of the servants called out to me.
“Aroa!” she said. “Marcela is looking for you.”
“Me?” I asked, surprised. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “She just said to go to the drawing room. She needs you now.”
What does she want now?
“Got it. I’ll go after I finish this bread,” I said.
“Up to you,” the servant replied before walking away.
Fifteen minutes later, I stood in front of the drawing room door, knocking lightly.
“Come in,” a sharp voice called from inside.
I entered to find Marcela sitting in one of the chairs, her face set in a scowl.
“You’re late,” she snapped.
“Good morning, Marcela,” I greeted her, keeping my tone polite.
“It’s Miss Marcela to you,” she corrected sharply.
“So, what do you need me for?” I asked, ignoring her attempt to assert dominance.
She stood up, her movements elegant despite her age, and walked toward me. “What’s your relationship with Chaos?” she demanded. “How did he meet someone like you?”
Someone like me? What was that supposed to mean?
“He saved me in the Forest of Trolls,” I said, keeping my answer vague.
“Hmm,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “And where are you from?”
“I’m a rogue wolf,” I replied confidently.
“A rogue!” she exclaimed, clearly offended. “Chaos must be out of his mind! No wonder he didn’t want to elaborate when I asked about you. It’s embarrassing!”
Embarrassing. The word stung more than I cared to admit. Was Chaos embarrassed of me? I quickly dismissed the thought.
“Let me make something clear to you, rogue,” Marcela continued, her voice dripping with disdain. “Chaos is set to be engaged to Sabina, a highborn—the daughter of the prime minister, to be exact.”
Really? Chaos had never mentioned this to me.
“Does he know about it?” I asked.
“It was planned decades ago!” she said, as if that answered my question.
“And since you’re living here for free,” she continued, “maybe it’s time for you to earn your keep.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, wary of her intentions.
“You will be my servant,” she declared.
“Uh… no,” I said, raising an eyebrow. Had she lost her mind?
“You will attend to my personal needs, like the rest of my attendants.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You can’t,” she said, her confidence unshaken.
“And why is that?”
“Because I am the only living relative of the king!”
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my temper in check. “Exactly,” I said. “You’re only a relative of the king. You’re not the king, and you’re not even related by blood.”
“How dare you—” she began, but I cut her off.
“Listen here, old lady,” I said, my voice firm. “You don’t have the right to order me around. Slavery is forbidden in this kingdom. You can’t force me to be your servant.”
“How shameless! Disrespectful!” she shouted. “You’re living in the palace for free—”
“Right,” I interrupted. “And if Chaos wants me to work for him in exchange for my lodging, I’d be willing to do that. But not for you.”
“You will submit to me!” she shouted, her face turning red.
At that moment, the door swung open, and Chaos walked in, his expression a mix of confusion and concern.
“Your Majesty,” Marcela said, her voice suddenly weak. “This woman… she’s trying to threaten me.”
Right.
“I’ve been nothing but kind to her, but she had the audacity to barge in here and threaten me,” she continued, her tone dripping with false innocence.
“And what is she threatening you with?” Chaos asked, his voice calm but edged with skepticism.
“She… she…” Marcela stammered, clearly unprepared for his question.
“Stop the act, Marcela,” Chaos said, his tone firm.
“What do you mean, Chaos? I’m your aunt!”
“You’re the wife of my uncle, which is why I’ve taken care of you,” he replied. “But you know I don’t tolerate liars.”
Marcela’s face paled. “Chaos—”
“I know you summoned her here,” he said, cutting her off. “What were your intentions?”
“I only have your best interests at heart, Chaos!” she cried, her voice trembling. Then, without another word, she stormed out of the room, leaving us stunned by her dramatic exit.
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