Chapter 3 Whispers in the palace

The palace was alive with whispers.

They slithered through corridors like invisible serpents, curling behind pillars and slipping beneath doors. Servants moved quickly, carrying trays of silverware and baskets of linens, heads bowed in obedience-but their mouths were busy, murmuring secrets that spread faster than fire.

"Did you see the new kitchen maid in the prince's chambers?" one whispered as she passed another near the stairwell.

"I heard she just walked right in... as if she owned the place," came the reply, eyes wide with disbelief.

"They say she dared to look directly into the prince's eyes," a third added, lowering her voice. "As though she forgot her place."

The name Elenma passed from tongue to tongue, growing heavier with each retelling. Each whisper twisted the truth just enough to make it dangerous.

From behind a folding screen near the main hall, Ramela listened.

She stood perfectly still, her posture elegant, her expression calm. Anyone passing by would see only a loyal noblewoman watching over palace order. But behind her composed gaze, her thoughts burned.

How dare she? Ramela thought, nails digging slightly into her palm. A nameless kitchen girl, daring to step into spaces she does not belong. Daring to draw his attention.

Her lips curved into a smile-slow, sharp, calculated.

Ramela had not survived court politics and royal conspiracies by chance. Her magic was not loud or violent. It did not scorch or shatter. It was far more dangerous.

She could hide her thoughts completely, shielding them even from gifted minds.

She could transform her appearance-face, voice, body-into anyone she desired.

And when she wished, she could fade into the palace's shadows, unseen by those who did not look closely.

A weapon made for manipulation.

Yes... she must fall, Ramela decided. And the prince must believe it was Elenma's own doing.

In the kitchens below, Elenma scrubbed pots in silence.

Her hands worked steadily, but her mind was restless. The air felt wrong. Heavier. Charged with something unseen. When other servants passed her, their smiles did not reach their eyes. She felt it-sharp glances, flickers of resentment, something darker beneath politeness.

She paused, fingers tightening around the cloth.

Her power stirred.

It was still new to her, unpredictable, but unmistakable. When she closed her eyes and focused, emotions whispered to her like wind through leaves. Envy. Suspicion. Fear. And beneath it all-malice.

Someone wished her harm.

Her heart beat faster as a name surfaced in her mind without explanation.

Ramela.

Elenma had barely spoken to her. Barely seen her. And yet, the darkness she sensed carried the same weight, the same hidden intent.

Be careful, a quiet voice warned inside her.

She resumed scrubbing, forcing her breathing to steady. She did not know how to confront danger like this. She only knew how to endure.

Above, in the upper halls, the prince found himself lingering.

He told himself it was nothing. That his interest was simply concern over palace order. That the rumors troubled him because they threatened discipline.

But his eyes searched for her without his permission.

When he caught sight of Elenma crossing a corridor or bowing quietly as servants passed, something tightened in his chest. There was strength in her humility, dignity in the way she carried herself despite her position.

Something about her presence unsettled him.

And the whispers angered him.

If anyone wrongs her, he thought grimly, I will not forgive it.

He did not yet understand why that thought felt so natural.

That night, Ramela acted.

The palace quieted beneath the moon's pale glow. Torches flickered along stone walls, shadows stretching and breathing like living things. Guards changed shifts. Servants slept.

Ramela slipped into darkness.

Her body shimmered, bones and flesh bending, reshaping. In moments, Elenma stood where Ramela had been-same face, same frame, same simple servant's dress. Even the faint scent of herbs clung to her skin.

Perfect.

She moved through the prince's private hallway with deliberate care. A candle was nudged, spilling wax onto the floor. A letter displaced from its proper place. A folded note left behind, its words suggestive, improper.

Enough disorder to spark suspicion.

Enough to stain a reputation.

When the prince arrived, alerted by the disturbance, he saw her.

Elenma.

Or so he believed.

His heart sank.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, his voice sharp with disappointment.

The figure turned slowly, eyes wide, posture meek.

"I... I don't understand, my prince," she said in Elenma's voice, trembling just enough to sound convincing.

Something tugged at him-unease, confusion-but the evidence lay before his eyes.

And then she fled.

By the time the guards arrived, the hallway was empty.

Morning brought chaos.

"She tried to sneak into his chambers again," someone whispered. "She's shameless," another said. "Dangerous." "I heard the prince himself caught her," a third insisted.

Elenma felt the rumors like cuts against her skin.

She knew she had done nothing wrong. Her power told her so-clear, unwavering. And yet the palace believed otherwise. Lies had weight here. Lies could crush.

The prince watched her quietly throughout the day.

He wanted to trust her.

But doubt crept in like poison.

Ramela observed it all, satisfaction humming beneath her calm exterior. The seed had been planted. Soon it would grow.

That night, Elenma sat by her small window, moonlight washing over her hands. Her fingers clenched as her power pulsed-warning, urging, awakening.

This was only the beginning.

And in the shadows, Ramela smiled.

The storm had begun.

Unaware of how tightly fate had begun to coil around them, each carried their own burden into the coming night. Elena sensed the pull of something irreversible, a future splitting into paths she did not yet understand. The prince lay awake, troubled by doubt he could not silence. And Ramela, alone with her victory, whispered silent vows to finish what she had started-before destiny could undo her control.