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.