Sophie's POV

The heavy iron doors of the kitchen groaned. I didn't look up. I continue scrubbing the counter. I tightened my grip on the scrub rag.

My heart beat fast.

The Chief Guard entered.

I knew that heavy, rhythmic clanking. It was the sound of the Chief Guard.

I asked myself what new havoc was about to befall me.

My mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario.

This was it. I was about to be executed. I walked out on Alaric. You do not tell an Alpha King he is a harasser and then go back to potatoes. I expected a blade or shackles.

The guard spoke. His voice cut through the room.

"A message from the Alpha." He announced.

He looked at me. An expression that was hard to read. A mix of confusion and something that looked like pity.

"The King is not interested in having his evening meal. He will not eat tonight. He intends to fast until morning." He added.

I stopped scrubbing. The silence was thick.

After the guard left, the kitchen erupted.

"Sophie, what happened?" Elspeth rushed to my side. Her face looked pale.

"Is he having the fits again? Is that why he won't eat?"

"He is just being the tyrant he is known to be." I muttered.

I tossed the rag into a bucket.

"Hush!" Silas hissed. He looked at the door in terror.

"Do not talk like that. If the wrong ears hear you, not even your ghost-luck will save you."

In my heart, I felt relief. I almost laughed. If he did not want to eat, I did not have to face him.

I would not have to look at those golden eyes. I would not have to wonder if he remembered the kiss.

I could sleep early. I can finally have a moment without a wolf in a crown.

"Clean everything." I commanded the staff.

My voice lighter than it had been all day.

"Scrub the hearth. Arrange the spices. Then everyone goes to bed early. We have a long morning ahead."

I saw them off one by one.

Then I returned to my small quarters. My eyes burned with exhaustion. I didn't even take off my outer tunic. I collapsed onto the straw pallet. I fell into a deep sleep.

I do not know how much time passed. One moment I was dreaming of home. The next, a large hand clamped over my mouth.

I bolted upright. My heart leaped into my throat. I tried to scream. The sound was muffled against a palm. A shadow loomed over me.

"Quiet ghost chef." A voice whispered.

It was low and rough.

"If you scream, the guards will come. I want to complete my task."

I struggled. I kicked my legs. The man was strong. He dragged me toward the door.

"Who are you?" I asked.

Just as he loosened his grip slightly.

My heart raced.

"You will find out soon." He replied.

His eyes glinting in the dark.

"I need to take you out of here. I know you want to return home. Follow me."

My blood went cold.

"Home? Did you find the Ledger of Satiety that brought me here?"

"Someone is waiting for you." He said.

He ignored the question.

"They would love to meet the famous ghost in the Royal Kitchen. Let's go."

I walked with him. My eyes were heavy with sleep. My mind was clouded. We moved through the silent corridors. We reached the kitchens. The air was cold. The fires were out.

"No one is here." I said.

I turned to face the man.

"Are you trying to kidnap me? Is this Elara's doing?"

A sharp whistle pierced the air.

Four men jumped out. There were behind the stone pillars. My eyes widened. They were dressed in mismatched fabrics. Reds. Purples. Yellows. They wore caps with bells. Clowns.

They did not move like circus performers. They moved with predatory grace. They loped across the floor like wolves. They began to dance. The bells on their hats sounded like a warning.

I tried to run. They were too fast. They surrounded me. Their faces was painted. It grinned in the light.

They threw fireworks in the air.

Kaboom!

Tiny sparks of gold exploded.

It was beautiful. It looked like miniature stars falling. But I was too terrified to appreciate the aesthetics.

"What do you want?" I shouted.

They did not answer. Two more joined the circle. Now there were six. They performed tumbles and leaps. They were a blur of color. One lunged toward me. He landed inches from my feet.

The one in front of me was different. He was taller. He moved with powerful authority. He did not jump like the others. He watched me. He wore a velvet mask.

The other five stopped. They dropped to one knee.

The tall jester in front of me reached up. His fingers were large. He touched the edge of his hood. He began to push it back. He was about to reveal his face.

My heart raced.

I don't know what to expect.

I asked myself. Is this how they execute people privately?

They put up a show so you can enjoy your last day on earth.

Alaric's POV

I pulled the mask from my face. The cold kitchen air hit my skin. I watched Sophie's expression change.

First, I saw fear. Then, I saw a flash of pure delight. She did not expect a King to play the fool. My heart hammered against my ribs. I liked the way she looked at me.

"I am sorry, Sophie." I said.

My voice was thick. I did not sound like a King. I sounded like a man.

"I apologize for the garden. I apologize for the wine. I ask for your forgiveness."

I stood in bells and bright fabric. I humbled myself to see her smile. The jingle of the cap was worth the result.

I waited for her answer. My ears twitched. I heard a faint shuffle. It was silk on stone. Elara was peeping through a gap in the wood. Her eyes showed shock and fury.

I leaned toward Sophie. I smiled a sharp smile at the door. I wanted Elara to feel jealousy. Her plots only brought me closer to Sophie.

"I forgive you, Your Majesty." Sophie whispered.

The tension in my shoulders snapped.

"Then prove it." I said.

"Come out with me tonight. Let the palace see that we are at peace."

I did not wait for her to argue.

I stripped off the jester clothes. A guard handed me my tunic. I pulled the fabric over my head. I adjusted the fur. The clown vanished. The King returned.

"You have forgiven me." I said.

I looked at her.

"Now, I must give you a gift. Tell me what you desire. Do you want gold hairpins? Or jewelry from the southern mines? Name it."

Sophie shook her head. She looked at the empty pots on the hearth.

"I do not care for jewelry, Alaric. I only want fresh ingredients. My kitchen needs life. I need things that grow."

I looked at the door. Elara was shaking with rage. She loved gold. Sophie rejected jewelry for vegetables. It must have felt like a personal insult to her entire existence. Elara turned and walked away in the shadows. I felt satisfied.

"Since you do not care for shiny rocks." I said to Sophie.

"I will take you to the royal farm. We grow our own crops there. You can take whatever your heart desires."

Joy flashed in her eyes. She tried to hide it with a professional mask. I saw the light anyway. It was brighter than any diamond.

We walked through the silent palace grounds. The moon was high. The air smelled of earth and flowers. Soon, we reached the gates of the farm. I showed her rows of grain and vines.

"It is beautiful," she said. She touched a leaf with a gentle hand. "It is so full of life."

We walked further into the experimental plots. We passed familiar greens and roots. Then, we reached a restricted area.

I stopped her. I pointed to a row of long, bright red crops. They looked like teeth.

"Be careful." I warned.

"This is Poison. We do not use it for cooking. It is planted only for experiments. Many who tried to eat it died or suffered greatly. Their throats burned. Their stomachs failed. Nobody touches the red crop."

Sophie let out a loud shout.

"It is not poison! Your Majesty. We call this pepper!"

She moved forward with sudden excitement. She reached out to touch the red fruit.

"No!" I barked.

I was not standing on firm ground. The soil was wet from the evening dew. I lunged forward to grab her arm. To pull her away from the danger. My weight caused me to slip.

I fell backward. Sophie, caught in my grip, tumbled with me.

The world spun for a second. I hit the soft earth with a thud. Sophie landed directly on top of me.

Her face was an inch from mine. I felt her breath on my lips. My hands around her waist. I held her steady.

The farm was silent. I heard her heart race. Her eyes reflected the moon. The crown did not matter. The poison did not matter. I felt the heat of her body.

I just stare into her eyes. I saw a different version of myself.

Elara's POV

The sight of Alaric in the kitchen was a brand on my eyes. I left the kitchen. I moved through dark halls. My silk skirts hit the stone.

I watched the Alpha King lose his dignity. He wore bells. He danced for a nameless girl.

The pain felt heavy. I reached my chamber. I breathed fast. I did not call my maids. I hid my tears. I grabbed a dark coat with a hood. I covered my face. I had to strike. Before the rot Alaric called "love" destroyed everything I had built.

I used the side door. I moved in shadows. I headed for the east wing. I reached the quarters of Grand Prince Magnus.

Magnus was Alaric's uncle. The court saw him as a drunk. They thought he was useless. But I knew better. I knew his hunger for power. I knew the steel behind his lazy smile.

I reached his double doors. I slipped inside without a knock. The room smelled of old oak and heavy spice.

Magnus was sitting by the fire. A silver chalice in his hand. He looked up. His eyes sharp despite the dim light.

"Lady Elara?" his voice was a low purr.

"You visit at a dangerous hour. If the guards see you here. Your reputation will be ashes by sunrise."

"No one saw me." I snapped.

I pulled the hood back. My hair was a mess of gold tangles.

"I have no choice, Magnus. We are in trouble."

He leaned back. He swirled the liquid in his cup.

"Why the sudden visit? Did our King grow tired of your company?"

"He is distracted." I hissed.

Pacing the floor. "He is losing interest in me. He is obsessed with that... that ghost chef. Tonight, he wore bells for her. He danced in the kitchen like a common jester. And worse, he has threatened me. He vowed to find evidence of my plots against her. He is looking for the strings, Magnus. If he finds them, they lead to me. And if they lead to me, they lead to you."

Magnus let out a dry, sarcastic laugh. He shook his head as if I were a child crying over a broken toy.

"At least I am not seen as a threat." He said.

His voice dripping with mock humility.

"I am the useless uncle. Too stupid for politics. Too drunk for power. Even if you are caught, Elara, the Alpha will never look at me. I am invisible in my mediocrity. I can still go on with the plan while you rot in the dungeon."

I froze. Cold fury washed over me.

"Are you telling me you are just using me? That I am your shield while you wait for the throne?"

Magnus smiled. It was a slow, terrifying expression. He stood up and walked toward me. The firelight casted long shadows across his face.

"I am joking, little viper. Do not lose your nerve. I have many plans. They are like the gears of a clock. If one gear breaks, the others still turn. One way or another, Blackwood will have a new hand on the rudder."

"I need his attention back." I whispered.

My voice trembling. "I need him to remember who I am. He looks at her as if she holds the secrets of the universe."

Magnus reached out and tilted my chin up.

"The girl uses food to confuse his senses. It is a primitive but effective tool. If she uses flavor, you must use it too. Prepare something special for him. A meal that reminds him of the luxury of his station. Not the dirt of the commoners."

"I am not a cook." I spat.

"You are a woman of resources." Magnus countered.

"I will visit Alaric tomorrow. I will speak highly of you. The Alpha still listens to me because he thinks I have no ambition. I will remind him of your loyalty. But you must do your part."

He nudged me toward the door.

"Leave now. Before the moon sets. No one must see the future Queen in the room of a 'drunkard'."

"My loyalty lies with you, Magnus." I reminded him. "Do not forget that."

"I never forget a debt." He replied.

I slipped back into the hall. I did not go to my chambers. I headed for the basement levels. The air was cold and smelled of damp earth.

I reached the servants' quarters. These rooms were small. Cramped. Foul. I stopped at a door at the end of the hall. I kicked it open.

Chef Damien sat on a small stool. He was sharping a knife.

He was a bitter man. He had deep lines around his mouth. He had expected to be the Chief Royal Chef. He had been passed over for a girl who fell from a tree.

"Lady Elara?" he stammered. He stood up quickly.

"Sit down, Damien." I commanded.

I stepped into the room. The shadows of my hood masking my eyes.

"I know you are not pleased. I know you hate the 'ghost' as much as I do."

Damien's grip tightened on his knife.

"She knows nothing of our traditions. She uses strange herbs. She insults the craft."

"I want you to cook a meal." I said. "The best meal the King has ever tasted. I want it to be a masterpiece of tradition and elegance. Something that makes him realize what he is missing in that girl's kitchen."

"The King has ordered only her food." Damien whispered.

"The King will eat what I bring him." I said.

"And if you succeed, Damien. I will see to it that you become the Chief Royal Chef. The girl will be removed. One way or another."

Damien's eyes lit up with a greedy fire.

"I can do it. I have a recipe from the old lands. It requires time. It requires the finest cuts."

"Do it." I told him.

"And keep your mouth shut. If a word of this reaches the Alpha, I will have your tongue."

We discussed the details in hushed tones. He agreed. I left the quarters. I moved quickly. My heart hammered.

I reached my chambers. I slipped inside. I stripped off the dark coat. I lay in my bed. I stared at the ceiling.

I am a daughter of a noble house. I am feared by the elders. A girl who smells of smoke will not replace me.