Chapter 21 Ruined Silk And Gold
Isabella’s POV
꧁𓃙𓃠𓃥𓃚꧂
Morning light spilled into my room, warm and soft, brushing across my face. For one small second, I felt peaceful.
Then I remembered.
The wedding.
Evergreen.
Clara.
The gold mask.
The gown Leon personally sent.
My stomach clenched.
I sat up and looked toward the chair where I’d carefully hung the dress the night before.
My breath froze.
“What… what is this?”
The dress was gone.
No—not gone.
Destroyed.
Shredded into long, uneven strips. Fabric ripped like it had been attacked by claws. The smooth gold silk was torn open, the gemstones scattered across the floor like fallen tears.
My heels lay beside it—cut clean through the straps.
My mask…
My beautiful mask…
Cracked straight down the middle.
“No…” I whispered, my voice trembling. “No, no, no…”
I slid off the bed, dropping to my knees on the cold floor. My fingers touched the broken mask. It was still cold from last night.
“Who did this?” I whispered. “Why?”
A wave of dread washed over me.
Someone had entered my room.
Someone had stood above me while I slept.
Someone had destroyed the only protection I had for the wedding.
A knock sounded sharply.
“Isabella?” Leon’s voice.
Panic shot through me. “Your Majesty—wait!”
Too late. The door opened.
Leon stepped inside… and froze.
His golden eyes burned as they swept across the ruin. Torn silk. Cut heels. My shaking hands clutching the broken mask.
His jaw tightened.
“What,” he said slowly, “happened here?”
I stood quickly. “Your Majesty, I swear—I woke up and found it like this. I didn’t touch anything. I didn’t tear it, I didn’t—”
He raised a hand sharply. “Enough.”
His eyes narrowed, studying me so intensely I felt stripped bare.
“You expect me to believe,” he said, voice thick with anger, “that someone walked into my palace, into your room, without any guards noticing, and destroyed your things?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “Because I didn’t do this.”
He didn’t respond.
He didn’t blink.
He just stared.
Before either of us could speak, a smug, deep voice cut through the doorway.
“Well, well… what’s all this?”
Damon.
Of course.
He walked in without permission, brushing past Leon as if the King didn’t exist.
His eyes landed on the shredded dress. A slow smile curled on his lips.
“Isn’t this interesting,” Damon drawled. “The little maid ruins her gown on the morning of the trip. What a coincidence.”
“I didn’t ruin anything,” I said softly.
He snorted. “Please. You probably did it on purpose so you wouldn’t have to go. Scared of a few nobles, are we?”
Leon snapped, “Damon, get out.”
But Damon ignored him.
Instead, he stepped closer, leaning slightly toward me, his voice lowering as if he wanted Leon to hear every word.
“Leon, tell me something,” he said. “Why are you dragging a maid to a wedding? And why—” he gestured around the room “—didn’t you invite your own brothers?”
Behind him, Kennedy and Rogers appeared, both wearing expressions carved from stone.
Kennedy crossed his arms. “We heard the... other Kings of Redmoon were not invited to the wedding of Evergreen.”
Rogers added, “But the maid was.”
Their voices were quiet, but sharp.
Leon’s jaw flexed. “This is a political visit, not a family outing.”
Damon scoffed. “Is that what they call it now? Taking a maid to a noble wedding while leaving your brothers behind? Sounds insulting to me.”
Leon’s eyes flashed dangerously. “I don’t answer to you.”
Damon stepped closer, towering over him. “You act like a king, little brother. But you move like a man who’s hiding something.”
Leon growled low in his throat.
Kennedy’s cold voice cut in. “I agree with Damon. This is beneath the throne. Why parade around with a servant?”
Rogers snorted. “Unless she’s not just a servant.”
Leon didn’t move, but something deadly shifted in his eyes.
I stepped back without realizing it.
Damon noticed.
He smirked. “Look. The maid is shaking. Maybe she knows she won’t survive the journey.”
Leon finally snapped.
“ENOUGH.” His voice thundered through the room.
Everyone fell silent.
Even Damon.
Leon stepped forward until he stood toe-to-toe with his eldest brother.
“You will not insult her. You will not question my decisions. And you will not interfere in matters that are not your concern.”
Damon lifted one eyebrow. “Her dress is ruined. Her mask is broken. She cannot go.”
“She is going,” Leon said.
“With what?” Damon pointed at the torn pile. “Rags?”
Leon turned to me and said sharply, “Isabella. Say it again.”
My heart hammered painfully. “I didn’t do it.”
His eyes locked on mine.
And for a moment, the whole room disappeared.
He studied me. Searched me. Searched every flicker of fear, confusion, and hurt in my expression.
Then he looked away.
“Prepare another gown,” he ordered Kennedy’s guard. “Something better than the one destroyed.”
Kennedy stared. “You’re serious?!.”
Leon snapped, “Move.”
The guard vanished to carry out the order.
Leon looked at Damon. “If one more person sets foot in her room uninvited, I will tear off your hands myself.”
Damon chuckled under his breath. “Protective, aren’t you?”
Leon didn’t answer.
He simply turned to me. “Be ready. We leave in one hour.”
The three brothers exchanged looks—dark, suspicious looks—but they followed Leon out one by one, their heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor.
Leaving me standing alone with the torn dress at my feet.
Someone had done this deliberately.
Someone wanted me exposed.
Someone wanted me to walk into Evergreen without protection.
But who?
꧁𓃙𓃠𓃥𓃚꧂
Sierra’s POV
“Is it done?” Sierra asked the moment the omega maid entered the room.
The girl bowed. “Yes. The dress is ruined. The mask too. Just as you commanded.”
Sierra’s grin widened so much it almost hurt her cheeks.
She and her three favorite minions sat cross-legged on her bed, the room filled with giggles.
“Tell me again,” Sierra said sweetly, twirling a lock of her golden hair, “how exactly did you do it?”
The maid swallowed nervously. “I… I slipped into the palace last night through the laundry entrance, like you told me. I waited until the guards changed shifts, then sneaked into her room.”
Sierra’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
“And?”
“She was asleep,” the maid whispered. “I tore the dress, cut the shoes, and broke the mask before leaving.”
Sierra clapped her hands excitedly. “Perfect!”
Her minions squealed.
“Sierra, you’re amazing!”
“You really showed that girl!”
Sierra stood up and twirled dramatically.
“She thinks she can go for that wedding? She thinks she can be around princes? She thinks she’s something?”
Her voice hardened.
“She’s nothing.”
Her friends nodded eagerly.
“She should know her place.”
“She’s just a maid.”
Sierra smirked.
“A maid who needs to learn that this is my world now.”
She walked to her mirror, and imagined Isabella crying somewhere in the Lycan palace, staring at the ruins of her dress, helpless and embarrassed.
Good.
That’s exactly where she wanted her.
Sierra leaned close to the mirror, lips curling into a wicked smile.
“Let her try any nonsense again,” she whispered. “I’ll destroy her again.”
Her minions cheered.
And Sierra laughed—a soft, poisonous sound.