Chapter 32 32
Jasmine's POV:
Standing at the shadowed corner of the upper hallway, half-hidden behind the thick velvet curtain that hung from the arched window. The corridor was quiet except for the faint creak of the wooden staircase and the soft shuffle of footsteps climbing toward me. My heart thudded with a mixture of anticipation and irritation as Denary and Amelia appeared at the top of the stairs, side by side.
They moved slowly, almost in step, though there was still that distance between them, enough that no part of their clothing brushed. Denary’s broad shoulders filled the space; Amelia looked small beside him, her green gown catching the low light from the wall sconces.
When they reached the landing, just outside the doors to their adjoining rooms, Denary stopped and turned to her. “You don’t have to bother yourself with cooking anymore.” He said, voice low but firm. “There are so many maids and staff who handle such activities. You should just rest or find other fun things you enjoy that don’t stress you out.”
Amelia smiled and it made my stomach twist as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear with delicate fingers. “I know there are maids who take care of the cooking, but I wanted to cook dinner tonight to thank you for rescuing me.” She replied gently.
“It was my pleasure.” Denary exhaled through his nose. “Besides, anyone who was in that position would have helped you so it’s not such a big deal that you have to stress yourself cooking.”
She shook her head, insistent. “I really wanted to thank you.” He regarded her for a long moment. “Okay, fine. I accept your gratitude. But I still want you to know that you don’t have to stress yourself next time. Your hands are not healed yet, no matter how much you think they are, so don’t stress yourself cooking, handling knives, or stirring pots.”
‘Tch!’ I scoffed inwardly, clenching my fists so hard my nails bit into my palms.
Amelia dipped her head, cheeks flushing faintly, then bowed slightly and without another word, she hurried into her room and closed the door behind her with a click. While Denary remained standing there, frozen for several seconds, staring at the closed door as though he could still see her through the wood.
Then, slowly, he glanced down the hallway, straight toward the corner where I stood and panic surged through me. I ducked behind the drape, pressing my back against the cold stone wall, holding my breath until I heard his door open and close.
Only then did I allow myself to exhale and lean my head back against the wall, eyes closed, and let the rage roll through me in slow, burning waves.
How utterly annoying it was to watch them together. He didn't raise his voice, didn't snap, or dismiss her the way he so often dismissed me. With me, his face stayed blank, and emotionless, a perfect mask of indifference. With her, there was concern, protectiveness, and care in his eyes, the kind I had spent months trying to coax out of him and never once received.
“Damn it!” I cursed under my breath, my chest aching with frustration because Denary was supposed to be mine to command, mine to charm, and mine to eventually love me the way legends said true mates loved. Instead he treated me like a guest who had overstayed her welcome while that weak little Amelia got softness from him without even trying.
Suddenly, I remembered the laxatives and a cruel smile tugged at my lips because at least that small revenge was still in play. I had made certain not to touch a single bite of the food at dinner. Soon enough, everyone who had eaten from Denary, to Jasper, and even Amelia, would be clutching their stomachs, dashing for chamber pots, groaning in misery.
And when the accusations started flying, Jasper would inevitably lose his temper, Denary’s legendary patience would finally crack, Amelia would cry, and I would watch it all unfold with exquisite joy.
It was almost a pity I had to put Denary through it too because he was rightfully mine, after all. But sometimes a man needed to be reminded of what he was neglecting. This little episode would punish him for his indifference, force him to see that Amelia wasn’t worth the trouble. When the dust settled, when she was humiliated and he was disillusioned, he would finally turn to me.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I smoothed my skirts, and started down the corridor toward my room. As I walked, a tune rose in my throat, an old, lilting song my nursemaid used to hum when I was small. When I reached my door, pushed it open, and stepped inside to see Suzanne was pacing back and forth near the foot of my bed, wringing her hands.
“What’s the problem?” I asked, closing the door with a click and she jumped, spun toward me, with her eyes widened in terror. “My lady…”
“What is it?” I asked again, sharper this time. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Suzanne sank to her knees in front of me, hands clasped together as though in prayer. “Please don’t be angry, my lady. Please.”
Paranoia prickled along my spine. “Stop groveling and tell me what’s going on.” Trembling, she reached into the bodice of her gown and pulled out a small leather pouch then she held it out to me with both hands like an offering.
Confused, I stared at it for a few seconds, then I asked. “What is that?”
“It’s… it’s the pouch containing the laxatives.” She whispered and once again, confusion crashed over me as I snatched it from her fingers, turning it over in my palm. “Why are you giving this to me, when you should have tossed it away?”
“Because… because I wasn’t able to put it in the food.” Suzanne’s voice cracked as she spoke and for several long seconds I simply stood there, pouch dangling from my fingers, unable to speak.
Suzanne rushed on, words tumbling over each other. “I was waiting in the corner just like you said and I had the pouch ready but just as I was about to pour it in, one of the other maids walked in, carrying more firewood for the stove. She looked right at me and I panicked so I made up an excuse about needing more salt and ran out before she could ask questions. I’m so sorry, my lady. I didn’t know what else to do.”
My voice came out dangerously quiet. “And why are you only telling me this now?”
“I was scared.” She whimpered. “I was scared you’d be upset. I thought… I thought if I waited until after dinner, maybe you wouldn’t notice, or maybe…”
“Of course I’m upset!” I exploded. “You made a huge mistake and you didn’t tell me immediately!”
Suzanne lunged forward, wrapping her arms around my legs. “Please forgive me, my lady. Please. I’ll do anything.” I kicked her away, hard enough that she sprawled backward onto the rug. “Useless! Stupid, incompetent, worthless girl! You had one simple task, one!”
Tears streamed down her face. “I’m sorry.”
“Get out.” I thundered and she scrambled to her feet, still babbling apologies so I hurled the pouch at her chest. It struck her collarbone and fell to the floor with a dull thud. “Better find a way to make this up to me. If you don’t, I swear I’ll make the rest of your miserable life unbearable. Do you understand?”
She nodded frantically, backing toward the door as I stepped forward, raised my hand, and slapped her hard across the face. The crack echoed in the room and she gasped, hand flying to her cheek. “Out ” I snarled, and Suzanne fled, the door banging shut behind her.
As soon as she was out the door, I stood alone in the center of the room, unable to believe that my beautiful plan was ruined by a trembling coward of a maid and now my thoughts had begun to spiral from Denary’s concern for Amelia, to his gentle warning about her hands, the way she had blushed, bowed the scurried away like some lovesick maiden, and now my revenge that was thwarted before it could even begin.