She awoke to soft, wet strokes on her skin, followed by a sharp screech that made her jolt. Her eyes flew open.
"Ozra," she whispered, blinking down at the small dragon curled beside her. "What are you doing?"
He'd grown since they arrived at Winter's Keep. It had only been a week, but he was hungrier now, more restless, craving space her small chamber couldn't offer. Hiding him was getting harder by the day.
"Shelby might walk in any minute. We can't have you getting seen," she muttered, scooping him into her arms. He yawned and nestled his head against her chest. "Are you hungry?"
He made the same low noise he always did when she mentioned food.
Blue still found it strange, how he seemed to understand her. Not in words, exactly, but he *got* her. Every tone. Every feeling. That only made her love him more.
"You'll have to wait a bit. Last time I snuck into the kitchen, I almost got caught, remember?"
Her heart had nearly leapt out of her chest that day. The old cook had almost spotted her, and all she could think of was the man from the clearing, the one who got a brutal flogging for stealing. She didn't want to imagine how the triplets would react if they found out. Since then, she'd kept her head down.
Speaking of her husbands… she hadn't seen them since the night of the party. Dasia said they'd left for the mountains on urgent business, some kind of unrest in the villages.
But the memory of that night haunted her.
Every time she closed her eyes, she felt their mouths on her skin, the way they'd each taken turns suckling her breasts like she was theirs.
It felt too good.
So good it hurt.
She hated that she felt this way for them, when it was clear they didn't feel the same. Not really. Not enough to stay.
In the days that followed, Dasia had kept her busy with castle tours. Winters Keep was even bigger than she imagined, one of the oldest, most powerful strongholds in the realm.
She'd also learned Dasia was an assistant physician, working in the castle hospital with her father. That place had become Blue's escape. Her peace.
As usual, after breakfast, she made her way there… but something made her pause.
A door. Set low, beneath the staircase.
She'd seen it before. But today, it pulled at her. Something about it felt... wrong.
She looked around, empty hallway. Instinct tugged at her feet, whispering Look.
Her hand reached for the hook. A cough behind her broke the silence.
Blue jumped back with a yelp and landed hard on her backside.
A man stepped forward, voice gentle but firm. "Your Grace… be careful."
She blinked up at him, startled. It was the old man she'd seen beside Tia during court. Always standing near, but never speaking.
"I'm fine," she muttered, brushing herself off.
"I assure you," he said calmly, "there is nothing of importance beyond that door."
"I wasn't going in," she lied quickly. But she could tell, he didn't buy it.
"You should be careful, Princess," he said. "Stay away from trouble."
"What trouble?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"The Lords would not want you wandering where you're not wanted."
His words stung. But she forced her face into something stern and brushed past him.
"I was just passing by," she said curtly, and walked off.
Later that day, while picking up medication in the castle store, Blue told Dasia everything.
"You need to be careful," Dasia warned, her expression turning serious. "Lord Varys is not someone you want to be close to."
"Do you know what's behind the door?"
Dasia stiffened. "No. And I don't want to know."
Blue frowned. "Is it some sacred room? Who even goes in?"
"Only the Lords," Dasia said, glancing over her shoulder. "It is sacred to them."
She turned to Blue, her voice urgent. "Listen to me. Stay away from that door. Don't even think about getting close. Promise me."
Blue hesitated… then nodded. Dasia's tone left no room for argument.
Something was lurking behind that door. Of that, she was certain.
They spent the rest of the afternoon working. Blue did what she could to help, sorting herbs, organizing salves, carrying tools. Dasia's father, Arik, had already grown fond of her, and that made her feel safe.
Being around them, helping, laughing, learning, it filled the ache inside her. The loneliness didn't feel so sharp. Especially with Ozra waiting back in her room.
As evening came, the two girls rushed to the kitchen for a quick bite.
That's when they saw her.
Lucia.
Bent over one of the kitchen tables, her skirt hiked up, moaning shamelessly while one of the young servants thrust into her from behind.
Blue turned away in disgust.
The woman couldn't even stay loyal to the men she claimed to serve.
"Let's just go," she whispered, tugging Dasia's sleeve.
But Dasia held firm. "We came here to eat. If she wants to embarrass herself, that's her business."
Lucia dismissed the boy and sauntered over, not a trace of shame on her painted face.
"Well, well," she sneered. "Look who's here. The forsaken, mateless virgin Dasia. Jealous, aren't you? Knowing no one will ever want you the way they want me."
Her eyes locked on Blue as she said the last words.
Before Blue could speak, Dasia stepped forward.
"Say that again," she warned, voice ice-cold. "Say it and watch me break your nose."
Blue reached out, trying to hold her back, but Dasia shrugged her off.
Lucia smirked. "Oh Dasia… you're just a lonely, mateless—"
*Crack.*
Dasia's fist landed square on her face. Lucia crumpled to the floor, wailing and clutching her bleeding nose.
"My nose! You fucking bitch! How dare you—"
"Watch your mouth, slut," Dasia snapped. "That's all you'll ever be. A warm hole to fuck."
Then she grabbed Blue and stormed out of the kitchen.
Lucia's cries echoed behind them.
"You'll regret this!" she screamed. "I swear it, you'll both regret this!"