Chapter 4 THE SIGHT

Amby's first days in the palace blurred together in a dizzying haze. Every morning, she made her way to Master Edwin, the Head Omega's chambers, the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows casting colorful patterns on the polished marble floors.

As she settled into her seat, Master Edwin's sharp voice cut through the stillness. "Addressing the lycan king requires precision, Amby," he emphasized, his eyes piercing as a hawk's.

" 'Your Majesty,' never 'sir' or 'Liam', not even Alpha. " He repeated the phrase, his gaze boring into hers.

Amby nodded, her mind reeling with the intricate rules and etiquette that governed life within the palace walls. Master Edwin lectured on, his hands weaving intricate patterns in the air as he spoke of court politics, history, and manners. Amby's eyes followed, mesmerized by the complexity of it all.

"A misplaced word can topple empires," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

The weight of expectation settled upon her shoulders, and Amby's stomach twisted into a knot of anxiety. She felt fragile, like delicate porcelain poised on the brink of shattering. One misstep would shatter the fragile facade, and Amby couldn't shake the feeling that she was already teetering on the edge. As the lesson drew to a close, Master Edwin's expression softened.

"Remember, Amby, practice makes perfect," he said, his voice a gentle encouragement.

But Amby's doubts lingered, her heart racing with the fear of making a mistake. How could she ever become perfect in this very perfect palace?

Amby's struggles extended far beyond Master Edwin's demanding lessons. The palace servants seemed determined to make her life miserable, their hostility a palpable force that shadowed her every step.As she navigated the labyrinthine corridors, whispers trailed behind her, the soft murmurs weaving a toxic tapestry of disdain. Cold, unfriendly eyes watched her every move, their owners' faces twisted into scornful masks.

One servant, a pinched-faced woman with a perpetual scowl, stepped forward, her voice dripping venom.

"You're just a wolfless omega," she spat.

"You'll never belong here."

Amby quickened her pace, attempting to outrun the hurtful words, but they echoed in her mind, relentless and damaging. Every door she passed seemed to hide another critic, another judgmental gaze. The constant barrage wore her down, chip by chip, eroding her fragile confidence. Despite her efforts to maintain her composure, Amby felt herself fraying at the edges. If only she had a wolf to protect and accompany her.

She poured her energy into perfecting every task, every gesture, but no matter how hard she tried, the servants' disdain lingered. Their animosity seeped into her bones, chilling her from the inside out. As the days passed, Amby found herself searching for a refuge, a place to hide from the biting words and icy stares. But within the palace walls, solace seemed as elusive as hope.

Amby began to wonder if she would ever find her place in this treacherous landscape, or if she would forever be an outsider, unwanted and unaccepted.

Third day of her second week at the palace, Amby's hand trembled as she poured wine for the king's advisors, her nerves stretched taut. In an instant, disaster struck. A crimson stream splashed onto Lord Ravenswood's immaculate black velvet cloak, staining the expensive fabric.

Lord Ravenswood's face purpled with rage. "Clumsy fool!" he thundered, his voice echoing through the dining hall.

Conversations ceased, and all eyes fixed on Amby's mortified face. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She prayed the ground to open and swallow her whole. Rescue came from the queen's fortunately good mood.

Queen Catalina's gentle voice intervened, a soothing balm to the tension. "Lord Ravenswood, please. Accidents happen."

Her words carried a subtle authority, calming the irate advisor. Amby felt a surge of gratitude toward the queen, though she knew better than to trust her mercy. Catalina's moods were as changeable as the wind. Lord Ravenswood's scowl deepened, but he bit back his retort.

"Apologize, girl," he growled.

Amby curtsied, her voice trembling. "Forgive me, Lord Ravenswood. It was an accident."

The queen's gaze lingered on Amby, her expression soft. "Rise, child. We've all had our share of mishaps."

As Amby stood, the dining hall's silence began to dissipate. Conversation resumed, though Amby sensed the weight of Lord Ravenswood's displeasure. She knew she had to tread carefully. One misstep could turn the queen's favor into disdain. And Amby couldn't afford to lose her protector in this treacherous court.

Later, Amby trudged through the corridors, anticipating the wrath of Mrs. Jenkins, the Chief Maid. As she entered the corridor, Mrs. Jenkins awaited her, arms crossed and eyes blazing.

"You're a disaster waiting to happen," Mrs. Jenkins hissed, her voice venomous.

"You'll never be worthy of serving the royal family."

Amby's eyes stung as she fled to her small chamber, seeking refuge from the cruel words. She slammed the door shut, leaning against it to catch her breath.Tears streamed down her face as she wondered why they hated her so much.

Was it her wolfless status? Her unknown past? Or simply her presence?

As she cried, Amby felt a sense of isolation wash over her. But then, a soft knock on the door broke the silence.

"Amby?" a gentle voice called out.

Amby wiped her tears, expecting another servant with criticism. But when she opened the door, she saw Jessica, a fellow maid, standing in the corridor. Jessica's expression was sympathetic.

"I heard Mrs. Jenkins tore into you," she said, her voice low. Amby nodded, feeling a lump form in her throat. Jessica stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

"Don't mind her," Jessica whispered. "She's bitter because she's stuck in this position."

Jessica's words brought a faint smile to Amby's lips.

"Thanks, Jessica," Amby said, grateful for the kindness. Jessica's smile matched hers.

Jessica's grip on her hand tightened. "We're friends now, Amby. You're not alone." And for the first time since arriving at the palace, Amby felt a sense of belonging.

As Jessica enveloped her in a warm hug, Amby felt a soothing balm spread through her frazzled nerves. The gentle pressure of Jessica's arms, the softness of her apron, and the sweet scent of lavender wafting from her hair all blended together to create a sense of sanctuary. Amby wrapped her arms tightly around Jessica, holding on as if she'd never let go. In the safety of Jessica's embrace, Amby closed her eyes, letting out a deep, shuddering breath.

But instead of darkness, visions burst forth like fireworks exploding in the night sky. Flashes of color, fragments of memories, and whispers of a long-forgotten past swirled together in a kaleidoscope of images. Amby's mind reeled, her grip on Jessica tightening as the visions threatened to overwhelm her.

Amby's vision sharpened, and she saw a young Jessica, no more than 16, standing beneath a full moon's silvery glow. The night air vibrated with magic, and Jessica's body trembled as she underwent her first transformation. Her limbs lengthened, her senses heightened, and her wolf form emerged, majestic and powerful. But amidst the awe-inspiring change, Jessica's eyes held a deep sadness, a sorrow that seemed to pierce the moonlit night. A figure stood beside her, a loved one whose face was etched with worry and love. Amby recognized the pain in their eyes, the desperation to hold on.

Glimpses of Jessica's memories flooded Amby's mind: A happy family gathered around a crackling fire, laughter and love-filled moments that warmed the heart. A tragic accident, a devastating loss that shattered the tranquility. A scream echoed through Amby's mind, a sound that seemed to rip Jessica's world apart. Jessica's wolf, alone and adrift, roaming the forest with a hollow heart. Amby felt Jessica's grief, her longing for the loved one lost.

Tears pricked at Amby's eyes as she witnessed the fragments of Jessica's past. She saw the scars that still lingered, the wounds that still bled. But amidst the sorrow, Amby also saw Jessica's resilience. Her determination to survive, to thrive, and to protect others from similar pain.

The vision faded, leaving Amby breathless and emotionally raw.

Jessica pulled back, concern etched on her face like delicate lines.

"Amby, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice low and gentle.

Amby hesitated, unsure how to reveal the intimate secrets she'd uncovered. Her eyes locked onto Jessica's, searching for guidance.

"Jessica, I... I saw things," Amby stammered, her words barely above a whisper.

"Your past. Your family."

Jessica's expression transformed, softening like wax in warm sunlight.

Her eyes, once bright with concern, now shone with a deep understanding.

"You have the Sight?" Jessica asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Amby nodded, still reeling from the visions. "It seems so."

The weight of Jessica's gaze settled upon her, as if seeking confirmation. Amby's heart pounded, her pulse racing with the implications. Jessica's face, once a mask of calm, now revealed a hint of wonder.

"The Sight is rare," Jessica whispered. "Especially among wolfless ones."

Amby's eyes widened, her mind racing with questions.

How did Jessica know about the Sight?