Chapter 6 The Power of Leverage

Ravyn's POV

I had stumbled onto a secret, Flora, the sharp-tongued palace maid, was entangled in a forbidden affair with Josiah, one of the palace guards.

Affairs among the palace staff were strictly forbidden. If the royal family discovered the truth, the fallout would be brutal. But I wasn't going to report them, at least, not yet. No, I intended to wield this secret like a blade. It was the only tool I had. I needed food for Darius and for myself.

By law, Prince Darius was entitled to weekly food rations. But it was clear he hadn't received any. The kitchen staff? Complicit. The entire palace? Corrupt.

I stood hidden beneath the trees, watching from a distance as Flora melted into Josiah's arms. It was jarring seeing her like that. Gone was the venomous arrogance; in its place was a girl in love, her expression soft, her laughter delicate. She looked almost... human.

After they finally parted and disappeared through the forest's edge, I gathered the wild greens I'd collected and made my way back toward the palace.

As I approached the kitchens, the savory scent of freshly roasted chicken stopped me in my tracks. Flora emerged, clutching a brown paper bag as if it held treasure.

"That smells suspiciously delicious," I said smoothly, stepping into her path.

She stiffened, her expression hardening into familiar scorn. "Move. This isn't your concern."

I blocked her again, my eyes flicking to the bag. "Funny, because that smells a lot like the food Prince Darius is supposed to be getting. But somehow, it ended up with you."

She gripped the bag tighter, scowling. "It's mine now. You don't get a say in this."

"You're far less threatening when you're whispering sweet nothings to Josiah."

Her body went rigid. She stepped in close, voice low and menacing. "I don't know what you think you saw, but you're mistaken."

"Oh, I'm certain of what I saw," I said evenly. "Don't worry, I haven't told anyone. Yet."

Her eyes darted around, checking if anyone was watching.

"I'm not looking to get you executed," I continued, tone cold like ice. "But if you keep starving the prince and me, I won't hesitate to bring you down with us."

She swallowed. Her voice was tight, uncertain. "No one will believe you."

"They won't need to believe me." I leaned in, dropping my voice to a whisper. "But they will believe photographs."

Her face drained of color.

"You're lying," she said, almost breathless.

I said nothing.

"You took photos?!" she shrieked, lunging at me. Her hands locked around my throat, squeezing with blind panic.

The sudden attack sent me stumbling. My breath caught in my chest, but I didn't fight her. I didn't need to.

I met her wild gaze with calm defiance. "Going to kill me?" I rasped. "That's bold, especially since I'm still a princess by title. And those photos? Already stashed safely. If I die, the whole Alpha clan will see exactly how intimate you and Josiah really are."

Her grip trembled. Slowly, her fingers loosened, then fell away completely.

I'd won.

I pointed at the chicken bag she'd dropped during her outburst. "Darius is dying. All I want is to keep him and myself alive a little longer. Surely you can understand that."

She didn't answer right away. Her eyes searched my face, desperate for any sign of weakness.

"How do I know you're not bluffing?" she whispered.

"You don't," I said simply. "And that's the point. Are you really willing to bet Josiah's life on the chance I'm lying?"

Her lips curled with hatred, but in the end, she handed over half the chicken.

"You're vile," she muttered.

I grinned and took the bag. "It smells heavenly."

As I walked away, my heart pounded in my chest. I'd just bluffed my way out of a dangerous confrontation. The truth? I didn't have a single photo. But she didn't need to know that.

Back when I lived under the Ashridge roof, life had been brutal. But there was one person who'd cared. A retired maid named Hannah. She'd worked in the Alpha palace long before I arrived, and she'd taught me how to survive. How to listen, how to manipulate quietly, how to strike when needed.

For two years, she was the closest thing I had to warmth.

If I made it through this, I swore I'd find her again.

With the bag of chicken in hand, I returned to Darius's chambers.

"Look what I brought," I said with a bright grin. "Food! And not the rotten kind."

Darius eyed me with suspicion. "Where did you get chicken?"

"Trade secret," I replied, dramatically sniffing the contents. "Smells amazing, doesn't it?"

He didn't answer.

I moved closer, holding a piece toward him. "It's fine. I made sure it's safe."

Still, he didn't reach for it.

So I took a bite myself, big, exaggerated, like a child savoring their first sweet. "Crispy skin... tender meat... a little herbaceous kick. Mmm. You're missing out."

He remained motionless, his expression unreadable.

I turned away with a sigh, waving the drumstick. "Alright then. I'll just enjoy this feast alone."

I had just reached the doorway when his voice stopped me.

"Wait."

I spun around, grinning. "Knew you'd change your mind. Here, this piece's the best one. I promise."

He hesitated, then leaned forward and took a bite.

He chewed slowly at first... then reached for more.

Progress.

As he ate, I glanced around the room.

At a glance, his quarters seemed neat. But a closer look revealed yellowed linens, dusty corners, grime in the floorboards. No one had cleaned this space in weeks, maybe months.

Unlike the spotless room I'd been given, polished only to make a show of hospitality.

I wandered to the edge of his bed, reaching for the tattered blanket.

"What do you think you're doing?" Darius snapped, his voice cold and sharp as a blade.