Elara POV

I sat in my room. The silence felt heavy.

I looked at my hands. They were clean. I had washed away the blood of Morgana.

I killed my trusted maid to save my own life. Now I have to do the dirty work myself. I no longer have a shadow to walk the dark halls for me. The air in the chamber felt cold.

I missed the presence of my servant. I did not miss her soul. I missed her utility.

I stood up. I paced the stone floor. My silk dress hissed against the rug.

I have spent years building my position in this palace. I will not let a girl from nowhere destroy it.

I sent a message through a page. I sent for Cook Damien. He is a man of low morals and high greed. He is perfect for my needs.

He arrived ten minutes later. He kept his head down. He wore his white kitchen tunic. It was stained with grease at the hem. He looked nervous. He should be nervous.

"Why have you not used what I gave you yet?" I asked.

I did not offer him a seat. I stood by the window. I watched the guards in the courtyard below.

"I tried, My Lady." Cook Damien said.

His voice was thin.

"But the ghost chef is like a hawk. Sophie always stays with the food. She stays from the moment the fire starts until the plate is served. She does not leave the kitchen. She does not even turn her back."

"You are a master of that kitchen." I said.

I turned to face him. I let my eyes narrow.

"You have worked there for twenty years. She has been there for weeks. Are you telling me a child is smarter than you?"

"She is careful." Damien replied.

He wiped sweat from his forehead.

"She keeps her spices in a locked box. She watches every hand that moves near her pots."

"I heard about the competition." I said.

I walked toward him. I stopped a few inches away.

"The northern clan is here. There will be a great match. I know Cook Silas and you will be her assistant cooks. The Alpha will chose you because you have more experience and expertise than the others. This is the perfect time for you to use the poison."

"The Alpha wants us to help her win." Damien whispered.

"I want her to fail." I said.

I reached into my pocket. I pulled out a small glass vial. The liquid inside was clear as water. It has no smell. It has no taste.

"This is the perfect time. The kitchen will be chaotic. There will be three northern chefs. There will be fire and steam. She cannot watch everyone at once."

"If I get caught, the Alpha will execute me." Damien said.

"If you do not do this, I will execute you. Not just you but your family too. Remember what I told you the last time." I threatened.

My voice was like a blade.

"I know about the grain you stole from the stores last year. I know you sold it to the black market. One word from me to Thomas and your head will be in a basket before the moon rises."

Damien turned pale. He began to shake.

"I will do it." He said.

"I will find a way."

"You must." I said.

"During the competition, she will be focused on the northern chefs. Wait for the moment she plates the final course. This is the perfect thing to use. One drop is all it takes. It will not kill anyone. It will only ruin the taste. It will make the food bitter. It will make her look like a fraud in front of Alpha Stone." I said.

A wicked smile appeared on my face.

"I understand, My Lady." Damien said.

I stretched my hand and offered that he takes the vial.

He took the vial with a trembling hand.

"Get out." I commanded.

He stumbled out of the room. I felt a surge of power. I did not need Morgana. I only needed fear.

I grabbed a dark cloak. I headed for the secretariat of Grand Prince Magnus. I moved through the side corridors. I avoided the main gates. I reached his door and walked in without knocking.

Magnus sat by his fire. He looked like a man who had already drunk a gallon of wine. But I saw his eyes. They were sharp. He was not as drunk as he pretended to be.

"You killed your trusted maid." Magnus said.

He did not look up from the flames.

"I had to." I said.

I sat across from him.

"I did it because of the incompetence of your rogues. They failed to kill the physician cleanly. They let Thomas get too close. I had to clean up the mess."

"It was your idea in the first place." Magnus said.

He finally looked at me.

"You wanted the girl gone. We almost got caught because you were impatient."

"The girl is still here." I snapped.

"And now she is cooking for the northern clan. Alaric is betting his crown on her."

"Let him bet." Magnus said.

He let out a dry laugh.

"This time my idea will work. I have spoken to Alpha Stone. The stakes are set. If she fails, the Moon Crescent Pack takes the harvest rights. They take the food. They take the medicine."

"And if she wins?" I asked.

"She will not win." Magnus said.

He stood up. He walked to a map on the wall.

"I have a perfect plan in place. I will make sure the ghost chef fails. When the resources are gone, the pack will starve. They will grow angry. Alaric will look like a fool who traded their lives for a cook. Everything will be taken away from him. A coup will begin. The elders are already hungry for his blood. He will be dethroned."

"And what of Sophie?" I asked.

"She will be executed for treason." Magnus said.

"The people will demand it. I will take the throne. You will have your place by my side."

I looked at Magnus. He was a monster. But he was a monster I could use.

I thought about the competition. I thought about Sophie standing over a ruined pot of food. I thought about the look on Alaric's face when he loses his kingdom.

I headed back to my chamber. I felt a cold joy in my chest. If Magnus plan fails, mine will work. I have lived in the shadow of that girl for too long.

Alaric looks at her with a light he never gave to me. He protects her. He treasures her. But he cannot protect her from the rot inside his own house.

I looked out at the northern forest. The sun was setting. The day of the competition is coming.

I touched the place where Morgana used to stand. I did not feel guilt. I only felt anticipation.

I was happy that at last, that ghost chef who had caused me so much trouble will finally fail.

Alaric POV

Alpha Stone finally agreed that the competition should hold. He is playing with fire. It will surely burn him.

I know his pack is struggling. I know he wants our herbs and grains to feed his dying borders. But I am the Alpha of the Blackwood Kingdom. I do not lose.

My ancestors built these walls on the bones of those who underestimated us. I felt the wolf within me pace. It sensed the coming conflict.

I called for Cassian. I told him to send for all the elders and cooks. I wanted everyone to hear the terms of this battle.

This was not just a kitchen match. It was a treaty signed in salt and blood. I stood by the window of the great hall. I watched the servants scurry below.

They were moving benches and clearing the floor. The tension in the palace was a physical weight. It hung in the damp air of the corridors.

Everyone gathered in no time. The great hall was filled to the brim. The air felt hot from the breath of many wolves.

I stood before the throne. I looked at the sea of faces. I saw the northern chefs standing with their arms crossed.

Their leather aprons were worn. Their knives were polished. They looked like soldiers. I saw the elders whispering in the corners. They looked worried. They smelled of old parchment and anxiety.

"A competition will be happening between the Moon Crescent Kingdom and the Blackwood Kingdom." I announced.

My voice echoed off the high stone arches.

"We will be choosing the theme today. The competition will have three rounds. The chefs will have like two or three days to prepare and gather their ingredients."

I looked at Sophie. She was standing near the front. Her presence always calmed the storm in my head.

She looked at me. I saw her take her hand to the side. She was waving three fingers for me to see. Her expression was intense. She made her brow in a way that suggested deep thought.

She is saying I should give them three days to prepare. My mind screamed.

I felt a different kind of relief. I wanted to give her exactly what she needed to win. I wanted her to have every advantage. If she asked for three days. I would give her the sun and the moon to match.

"The competition should have started tomorrow." I said to the crowd.

I adjusted the collar of my tunic.

"But that is not enough time for the chefs to prepare. They have three days to gather their supplies. The competition begins on the third day from the fifteenth hour."

I looked at Alpha Stone to ask if that is fine by him. He nodded slowly. He seemed to have a different kind of confidence today. His mocking smirk was gone. It was replaced by a cold, steady gaze.

He looked like a man who had been promised a win. I wondered what had changed his mind overnight.

"Let us begin with the theme for the competition." I said.

Cassian brought six parchment papers. He moved with the quiet efficiency of a shadow.

He gave me three. He handed the other three to Alpha Stone. I looked at the blank paper. The texture was rough under my fingers.

"Write whatever theme comes to your mind." I told Alpha Stone.

"I will write mine. We will combine them to give the theme for each round."

I began to write. I wanted to challenge the northern chefs. I wanted to see if they could handle something they don't know. I wanted to strip away their normal traditional recipes.

I wrote the word Unknown. I raised my paper up. Alpha Stone did the same. Cassian took the papers. He read them both together. Alpha Stone had written the word Dish.

"The first theme is Unknown Dish." Cassian announced.

I looked at Alpha Stone. He nodded. Then made a smile that looks irritating. It was the smile of a man who held a secret card. I felt a flicker of suspicion.

"The first theme is Unknown Dish." I told the hall.

"This means the chefs from both packs will make a dish that is not known in this time. It must be something original. It must be something unique. Do you all understand?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Everyone said in unison.

The sound was like a drum hitting the floor.

We took the second parchment paper. I thought about the regions. The north has cold winds and salted meats.

Blackwood has rich soil and forest spices. I wanted to see if they could adapt to our flavors. I wrote down the word Region. Alpha Stone wrote the word Swap.

"The second theme is Regional Swap." Cassian announced.

I explained the rules.

"The Blackwood chefs must prepare a dish owned by the Moon Crescent Pack. The Moon Crescent chefs must prepare a dish owned by the Blackwood Pack. This would test your knowledge of the land. It's a test of cultural intelligence. It was a test of survival."

They all nodded in agreement.

We moved to the third parchment paper. This would be the final round. This would decide the fate of the harvest. I wrote the word Soup. Alpha Stone wrote the word Duck.

"The third theme is Duck Soup." Cassian read.

It sounded simple. But in a competition of this scale, simple is dangerous. There is no place to hide a mistake in a clear broth.

Any impurity would float to the surface. After all the themes were chosen, everyone agreed to the terms.

"Alpha Stone and I will be the judges." I stated.

I kept my voice firm.

"We will score each other's chefs. We will be fair but firm. The result will be final."

I dismissed everyone. The crowd began to leave the hall. The elders filed out first. Their robes dragged on the stone.

The northern chefs walked away with Alpha Stone. They were whispering among themselves. They looked satisfied.

Only Sophie remained. She stood in the center of the hall. She looked small. She looked at me. He eyes wide open. Her face was pale.

When everyone was gone, Sophie walked to me. The sound of her boots on the stone was sharp. It echoed in the now empty hall. I stepped down from the dais to meet her.

"Why did you give us three days to prepare?" Sophie asked.

Her voice was high. She sounded stressed.

"I saw you waving three fingers." I said.

My stomach drop. A cold realizationn spread across my chest.

"I thought you meant three days. I wanted to give you the time you requested."

"No." Sophie said.

She shook her head. She held up her hand again.

"I was trying to tell you that days would not be enough. I was telling you no. I was not giving you a signal for three days. I was trying to stop you from setting a date so soon. I need at least a week of preparation for a competition like this."

I looked at her. The weight of the crown become heavy.

My heart hammered. I misinterpreted her action. I had acted on an assumption. I had made the first mistake.

This was a competition that needed a week of preparation. The northern chefs had arrived with their ingredients already in mind. They were prepared for this reckoning. Sophie was not.

I had given her a deadline that was a death sentence. I looked at her hands. They were trembling. I wanted to reach out and steady them, but I couldn't. Not here. Not with the eyes of the palace always watching from the shadows.

The competition had not yet began. I have had my first failure. Does this signify we would fail?

Sophie POV

I left Alaric standing. His face was full of regret.

I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away. My heart hammered. Three days.

He had given me three days for a battle that needed weeks. I did not have time to cry or argue. I had to build a kitchen that could survive this.

I headed for the royal kitchen. The hallways felt longer than usual. The smell of grease met me at the door.

I called all the chefs. I clapped my hands to get their attention. The kitchen staff stopped their work. They looked at me with a mix of fear and curiosity.

"Assemble, everyone." I commanded.

"The competition themes are set. We have three days to prepare for this competition. Listen carefully to my instructions."

I stood by the wooden prep table.

I looked at their faces. Silas looked skeptical. Martha looked terrified. Damien stood in the back. His eyes were cold.

"For the unknown dish, we will make what I call peppered beef." I announced.

"Our special ingredient will be the pepper."

The room went silent. Silas and Martha exchanged looks of horror.

"Pe... pe..." Silas struggled with the word.

"Pepper? That is poison, Chef. It is a weed from the swamps. No one uses it to cook. It burns the tongue. It makes the eyes bleed. It is used for torture, not to make food." Silas stated.

"It is not poison, Silas." I said.

I kept my voice firm.

"I know this ingredient well. In my time, it is a staple. It provides heat. It provides flavor. If you prepare it correctly, it enhances the meat. It will be our secret weapon because the northern chefs will not know how to counter the heat."

"I will not be part of this." Silas said.

He stepped back.

"You will grind it." I said.

I looked him in the eye.

"I am the Chief Royal Chef. I take the risk. Grind the dried peppers into a fine powder. Do not touch your eyes while you do it."

I turned to Martha.

"For the second dish, we must make the Pek Duckling. It is a meal owned by the Moon Crescent Pack. We must beat them at their own game."

Martha gasped. She leaned against the wall.

"Pek Duckling is one of the hardest meals of the northern clans. Even their best chefs fail at it. The skin must be like glass. The meat must be like silk. If the humidity is wrong, the dish is ruined. We do not have the climate for it here." Martha started her concerns.

"We will make our own climate." I said.

"Prep eight ducks. Clean them thoroughly. Pour papaya stock water over them. The enzymes in the papaya will soften the skin. Then, leave them in the sun to dry. We need the skin to become tight and translucent."

"Papaya water?" Martha asked.

"That is not how the northerners do it."

"Exactly." I said.

"My method is faster. Everything will be fine. Trust my process."

I looked at the third theme. Duck soup. This was the most dangerous round.

A slow broth usually takes six to eight hours to draw out the marrow and the essence of the herbs. I did not have that kind of time on the day of the competition.

"For the third dish, the duck soup, I need something special." I said.

"I need a pressure cooker."

"Pre... ture cooker?" Silas asked. He tilted his head.

"No. A pressure cooker." I replied.

I picked up a piece of charcoal. I drew a diagram on a parchment paper. I showed them a heavy pot with a sealed lid and a small valve on top.

"It is a sealed vessel." I explained.

"It traps steam inside. The pressure rises. This heat forces its way into the food. It can cook something that usually takes three hours within one hour. It will help us cook both the duck and the tough wild herbs at the same time. The meat will be soft. The herbs will release their medicine quickly."

"So how do we get the pre... sture cooker?" Martha asked.

I thought about the history books I had read in the library. I remembered a name. A man who experimented with steam and iron.

"We need a blacksmith." I said.

"Specifically, Blacksmith Kaelen."

Silas let out a short, dry laugh.

"Oh. The one who made the iron pipe that went boom in the military quarters? The elders sent him away. They called his work devilry. Nobody knows where he stays now. Some people say he is dead. Some say he lives in the caves of the Silent Peak."

"Dead?" I whispered.

My stomach twisted. If he was dead, my plan for the soup was gone.

"If he is dead, we cannot build the cooker. The pot needs to be constructed by someone with experience." I said

"So what if we do not get the pres... cooker?" Martha asked.

"Then we use Plan B." I said.

I looked at the old iron pots hanging from the ceiling.

"We use the normal palace pots. But it will not give us the depth of flavor we want. The duck will be tough. The judges will notice. I must talk to the Alpha."

"Thank the Moon Goddess we have a plan B." Silas said.

I left the kitchen. I headed for Alaric's chamber. The palace felt like a ticking clock. Every second I spent walking was a second I was not planning.

I reached his doors. The guards let me through.

I saw Alaric sitting by his fireplace. He was not reading. He was not drinking. He was staring into the flames. His mood suggested he was not happy. He looked like a man carrying the weight of a mountain.

"Sophie." He said.

He stood up.

"Will you be able to prepare in three days?"

The urgency in his voice was sharp. He was looking for hope.

"I already discussed the menu with the cooks." I answered.

"I have a plan for the beef and the duck. I only need to get a few ingredients across the palace border. And I need a pressure cooker."

"Pr... e... ture?" Alaric asked.

He looked surprised.

"Pressure cooker." I repeated.

I explained the science of steam. I explained why it was the only way to win the third round. I told him about the time saved. I told him about the texture of the meat.

"Where can we get this device?" He asked.

"I need the blacksmith." I said.

"Kaelen. The one the military quarters dismissed."

Alaric shook his head.

"I do not know anyone by that name. I was young when the military labs had their accidents."

He called for Cassian. Cassian entered the room quickly.

"Cassian, do we have a blacksmith named Kaelen?" Alaric asked.

"There was someone like that, Sire." Cassian confirmed.

"But since he was pursued from the military quarters, he vanished. No one knows his whereabouts. He was accused of wasting royal iron on toys that exploded."

"We must find him." I said.

"Without that pot, the soup will fail."

"We will ask from where he lived before." Alaric said to me.

"People in the lower town usually keep track of their own. We will find him. That is settled."

He stepped closer to me. He looked at my face. He seemed to be studying the dark circles under my eyes.

"So, who did you pick to assist you in the competition?" He asked.

"Cook Silas and Cook Damien." I responded.

"They are the most experienced in the royal kitchen. They are agile. They know the equipment."

"That is good." Alaric said.

He reached out as if to touch my shoulder, then stopped.

"I know you can do this, Sophie. But even if you fail, I won't blame you."

His words were meant to be kind. But to me, they sounded like a funeral.

He was already preparing for my failure.