Meredith.
"My lady," she said softly, her tone almost soothing. "Your long hair isn’t a hassle for us. We enjoy tending to it. Please don’t cut it. It would be such a shame."
I blinked, returning her gaze in the mirror, and finally gave a small nod. "Very well. No trimming."
Still, a question gnawed at me. Why had Valmora been so insistent? Surely, hair would always grow back. But then my thoughts shifted to my grandmother who carried fae blood. She too had silver hair, shining like moonlight.
Could there be more to it than appearance? Some hidden power attached to it I hadn’t yet uncovered?
The idea clung to me as Kira worked swiftly. She styled my hair into a bubble ponytail, the sections bound neatly, before twisting the tail into an elegant updo.
When she finally stepped back, I tilted my head in the mirror, studying the result.
"I like it," I murmured with a nod. "I will keep this style for the week."
Kira’s eyes glimmered with pride at the approval.
I rose, smoothing my trousers, and Deidra immediately bent to set a pair of black leather low-heeled slippers before me. I slipped into them, feeling grounded in their simplicity.
From there, I moved into my main bedroom.
"Light the vanilla candles," I requested, my voice calm but carrying the tone of habit. At once, Azul moved to do so, the faint sweet scent soon wafting through the air, wrapping the room in comfort.
I lowered myself onto the sofa in the sitting area, settling back against the cushions.
A moment later, Kira approached with a porcelain teacup, steam curling gracefully above it. She poured from the ceramic pot with practiced elegance before placing the cup in my hand.
"Thank you," I said, my fingers curling around the delicate handle.
But as I lowered my gaze to the table in front of me, my breath paused. A folded paper rested neatly where Kira must have placed it last night. Recognition stirred within me, cold and sharp.
It was the letter from Wanda. And I had almost forgotten about it since I didn’t value anything from her.
I pursed my lips slightly, recalling Draven’s announcement last night. By now, Wanda should already be preparing to leave for Stormveil.
Perhaps she was gone already as it was now two hours before breakfast. There was plenty of time for her to have departed.
Still, my curiosity itched.
I sipped the hot tea slowly, letting the warmth slide down my throat, then, I extended my free hand.
"Kira," I said quietly. "Bring me the letter. Let’s see what that troublesome woman found important enough to put into words."
Kira obeyed at once, picking it up carefully before placing it into my hand.
"Meredith,
I thought long and hard about this and finally decided that I wouldn’t leave Duskmoor’s ground without you knowing the truth you are not ready to pursue.
I don’t know if being wolfless has a way of making people foolish. I wouldn’t know since that degrading situation and position isn’t in my bloodline.
I bet you don’t know why Draven married you, and that is why this letter is to end whatever foolishness and naivety in you that thought he just randomly chose and insisted on you.
Draven married you because you are useful to his goal, nothing more. You are a pawn he placed on his board, a piece that makes his larger game easier to win. And do you know what his larger game is?
Before Draven met you at the Lunar ball, the council and everyone else were pressuring him to take one of their daughters for a wife since he was yet to find his mate.
And knowing the intentions of those power-hungry men, to make their daughters Queen, Draven decided to marry someone without power and any value. You.
He did that, despite knowing fully well that in the future, those political selfish bigots would attack and kill you off and then start fighting all over again to make one of their daughters Draven’s wife, and their future Queen.
Just so you know, every look and every word Draven gives to you all serves a purpose. His purpose. You are being moved where he needs you, and you don’t even realize it.
But if you think I am speaking out of spite, if you think I am simply bitter, then go and ask Draven yourself. Ask him if he married you with the intention of using you as a shield. I dare you.
Don’t forget this, Meredith, pawns are only moved until they are no longer useful. When that day comes, Draven will not hesitate to sweep you from the board without a second thought.
—Wanda Fellowes.
--
I set the paper back down on the table and stared at it as though it might burn a hole through the polished wood.
My chest felt tight, my pulse racing far too fast for something so still.
"My lady... is something wrong?" Deidra’s soft voice broke the silence.
I lifted my gaze toward her, then toward Azul and Kira who stood hovering with worried expressions.
My lips pressed together before I managed to say, "Give me a moment."
They hesitated, eyes flickering to one another, but eventually they bowed their heads and stepped out of the sitting area, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
The moment their footsteps faded, I sank back against the sofa. My throat was dry.
Draven’s face flashed in my mind—his smirk, his laughter, the warmth of his arms pulling me against his chest at night. The way he reached for me in the dark, how he held me until I fell asleep.
His voice whispering promises that he would cherish me, protect me, burn the world for me if he had to.
I remembered the fire in his eyes when he defended me against Mabel last night and the gentleness in his touch...
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