Kamrynn's POV
For a while, I couldn't shake the feeling that my meeting with Rmonica was just a dream. It seemed too surreal, too kind of her to visit me every day. Yet, day after day, there she was, slipping into my hospital room with a warm smile and a soft greeting. It didn't take long before it sank in-this was real. She was real. The Luna of the Blue Bell Pack had truly become… my friend.
"It's funny, you know," I say one morning as we sit together, the room filled with the soft morning light. "I keep expecting to wake up and find out you're just a figment of my imagination."
Rmonica chuckles, her gray eyes sparkling with humor. "If I'm a figment, then I must be a very talkative one," she quips. "You think your imagination would get tired of me by now."
I laugh, though it makes my ribs ache. "No, I don't think that's possible." There's a lightness in my chest that feels foreign, like I've forgotten what it's like to laugh this much. "You're really easy to talk to. It's almost like you're not even…" I trail off, glancing at her uncertainly.
"Like I'm not even the Luna?" she finishes, raising an eyebrow. "Go on, say it. I know what you mean."
I flush slightly. "Well, yeah. You're just… so down-to-earth. I thought people in your position were supposed to be all stiff and proper."
She waves a hand dismissively. "I leave the stiff and proper bit to my mate," she jokes. "Someone has to do it." She pauses, then adds more sincerely, "Titles don't matter much to me, Kamrynn. I'm just Rmonica. Always have been."
One day, between bouts of laughter that left my ribs aching, Rmonica shared something with me. "You know," she began, twirling a lock of hair around her finger casually, "I was born with hypothyroidism. Been on medication for it since… well, practically forever. I'll probably be popping those little pills until the day I die."
I blinked at her, taken aback. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed," I admitted. "You always seem so… full of life."
Rmonica shrugged with a playful smirk. "The trick is to smile through the struggle," she said. "What's life without a little laughter, right?" She glanced at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Besides, I've had years of practice. There's not much else to do when you're stuck in bed as a kid, waiting for your medicine to kick in."
The way she spoke about her struggles was different-lighthearted and even humorous at times. It wasn't as if she was looking for sympathy; instead, she seemed to share her burdens as a way to connect, not to garner pity. "You've had it your whole life?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"Yep," Rmonica replied, popping the 'p.' "It's a stubborn condition, but so am I. The medicine does its job, more or less. And on the bright side, at least I know I'll never run out of conversation starters. 'Hi, I'm Rmonica, and my thyroid decided to take an early retirement.'" She chuckled at her own joke, and I couldn't help but laugh along, even if my ribs protested.
It was moments like these that made me love and admire Rmonica more. Her resilience, the way she could turn something painful into a lighthearted story-it was inspiring.
Through these visits, I also learned more about Eloane, the woman who was carrying Rmonica's baby. One afternoon, Rmonica sat at my bedside, her expression thoughtful. "Eloane's been in my life for so long," she said, her voice soft with nostalgia. "My family was well off, you know? We lived comfortably even before I found my mate. If it weren't for that, I probably wouldn't be alive today. The medical bills… the cost of all those treatments-it was no small thing."
"Your family must've been really supportive," I said gently, watching her face closely. There was a tenderness in her eyes that spoke of fond memories.
"They were," she agreed, a wistful smile playing on her lips. "But there's another reason I'm here today. Eloane." Her gaze met mine, steady and full of affection. "She started working for my family when I was ten. Her family borrowed a huge amount from my father but had fallen into debt, and Eloane was given to us as payment. She was assigned as my personal maid, and she used to give me my medicine every day."
"Given as payment?" I echoed, the words feeling foreign and uncomfortable on my tongue. "That sounds… harsh."
Rmonica nodded, her smile fading slightly. "It was," she admitted. "But Eloane… she never let that define her. She was more than a maid to me-she was my sister, my best friend."
My heart swells at the thought. "It sounds like you two were really close," I say softly. "That must have been comforting, growing up with someone by your side."
"It was," she agrees, her gaze drifting. "Even though I came from a well-off family and had a comfortable life, I was lonely. The Blue Bell Pack is huge and promotes more industrialization compared to the smaller Packs.
My parents were more… business oriented. They could turn anything into an investment deal. So they weren't around much and I happened to be an only child. Eloane's presence… it made all the difference. She was the one constant in my life. She always managed to bring a smile to my face. We grew up together, and even after I found my mate, I couldn't leave her behind. I brought her to the palace with me. We've been together ever since."
I couldn't help but smile at that. "It sounds like you've been each other's rock."
"She's done more for me than I could ever repay," Rmonica said, her voice thick with emotion. "And now, she's giving me the greatest gift I could ever receive. She's carrying my child. I can't even put into words how much that means to me."
"She must love you a great deal," I murmured. "To do something like that… it's more than a gift. It's a sacrifice."
Rmonica's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she quickly looked away, as if embarrassed by the depth of her feelings. "I wish there was some way to truly repay her," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But how do you repay someone for giving you a piece of their own body? For giving you a chance at motherhood?" She shook her head. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to show her how much this means to me."
The sentiment struck a chord within me. I thought of Lysaa, of how she had risked everything to help me escape. "I understand," I said, my voice soft. "I know what it feels like to owe someone a debt so large, it's impossible to repay. But maybe… maybe you don't have to. People like Eloane… they don't do these things expecting something in return. They do it out of love. That kind of love… it's its own reward."
Rmonica looked at me, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "You really think so?"
"I do," I assured her. "And I believe the universe has a way of rewarding people for their good deeds. Even if you can't repay her in the way you want, the Moon Goddess will see her sacrifice. She'll be blessed."
Rmonica's lips curved into a small, hopeful smile. "I like to think that, too," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
The warmth of our shared understanding lingered between us, but suddenly, Rmonica's expression changed, her eyes widening as if she'd just remembered something urgent. She placed a hand on her temple, her brows knitting together in concentration. "I'm sorry, Kamrynn," she said abruptly, rising to her feet. "I just received a mind link… I have to go immediately."
I felt a pang of anxiety at the distress in her voice. "Is… is everything alright?" I asked hesitantly.
Rmonica's smile was fleeting, a thin veil over her concern. "I hope so," she said quickly. "I'm not sure what it is yet. But I promise I'll check on you later." She reached out and squeezed my hand, her touch warm and reassuring. "You're being discharged today. Elara will take care of the details."
Before I could respond, Rmonica hurried out of the room, leaving me with a mix of relief and worry swirling in my chest. As I watched the door swing shut behind her, I whispered to myself, "Please, let everything be alright."
The room felt emptier without her, and I couldn't shake the nagging fear that gnawed at me. Whatever urgent matter had called her away, I just hoped with all my heart that it wasn't something terrible.