Chapter 31: Chapter 31

KAMORA

Kamora stepped out of the drawing room, exhaling a heavy sigh.

The princess clearly had a vendetta against her, though she hadn’t understood why—until now. The princess was hopelessly in love with Lord Maroke.

Perhaps she had even been glad when his wife passed away. But seeing Kamora earlier that day must have shattered that illusion, twisting her joy into wild anxiety.

The princess looked like someone willing to do anything to get what she wanted.

Kamora had only taken a few steps when she saw Claudia approaching.

“Why are you standing outside?” Claudia asked, frowning.

“Lord Maroke dismissed me. He wanted to speak with the princess alone.”

Claudia gave a curt nod. “You’re excused. I’ll take it from here.”

Kamora bowed once more and continued down the quiet passage.

Her footsteps echoed against the marble floors—rhythmic and oddly comforting. Though she had no intention of complaining, she couldn’t understand why Claudia had sent her to serve the princess and Lord Maroke in the first place.

That wasn’t part of her usual duties.

With a resigned sigh, Kamora changed direction and made her way to the garden. She needed fresh air—desperately.

The moment she stepped outside, a cold breeze brushed against her skin, its chill somehow soothing. She tilted her face upward, welcoming the wind’s gentle caress.

The moon hung low in the darkening sky, streaks of indigo clouds weaving around it, a lingering echo of the fading sun.

Suddenly, a sharp noise pierced the silence. Kamora’s eyes snapped open.

She tensed, ears straining. The sound had come from the far end of the garden, near a cluster of bushes that bordered the path.

Silently, she crept toward the source, bending to pick up a stone lying at her feet. There it was again—the same rustling sound.

This time she was certain: someone was there.

She hesitated, debating whether to call for help. But if it really was an intruder, she didn’t want to give them a chance to flee.

She approached the bushes cautiously—and spotted a figure crouching, peering through a nearby window.

Without a second thought, Kamora raised the stone and hurled it toward the intruder. But the figure moved swiftly, dodging just in time.

“Who are you?” Kamora shouted, stepping forward.

The person looked up, and to Kamora’s shock, she found herself staring into a familiar face.

“Gwen?” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“Kamora! Finally!” Gwen stood up, stretching out her hand for help. “I’ve been waiting for days. Why didn’t you come back?”

Kamora frowned. “Come back? Where?”

“To see me,” Gwen said, blinking in confusion. “At the Goddess’s grove. I thought you’d have left this place by now.”

“Why are you here?”

“To find you,” Gwen replied.

She glanced around nervously, as if checking for witnesses, then grabbed Kamora gently by the shoulders and lowered her voice. “I told you, Lord Maroke can’t be trusted. When I didn’t hear from you, I thought they were keeping you here against your will. So I came to make sure you were safe.”

Her eyes swept over Kamora’s figure. “But I can see now that you’re not being held.”

Kamora’s eyes narrowed. “How did you even get in here? If anyone finds you, you could be in serious trouble.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Gwen said, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m just glad I found you. And now that I have, I can help you escape.”

She stepped closer, her voice conspiratorial. “The princess is here, isn’t she? Rumor has it she’s obsessed with Lord Maroke. If you stay, you’re putting yourself in danger. You should leave while you still can. Hmm?”

Kamora stared at her sister, a strange unease creeping into her chest. Gwen looked genuinely concerned—her voice soft, her smile wide—but her eyes shimmered with worry, deep and desperate.

“Gwen,” Kamora began slowly, “I’m not leaving the manor.”

A heavy silence fell between them.

“Why not?” Gwen asked at last, her smile faltering.

“I’ve decided to try and regain my memories,” Kamora said, watching her sister carefully.

Something close to horror flashed across Gwen’s face. “Why?” Gwen whispered. “Why now, all of a sudden?”

“Shouldn’t you be glad? I want to remember—remember you, and our family.”

“Yes, but…” Gwen’s voice trembled. “You’ll also remember the pain Lord Maroke caused you. The heartbreak. It will feel fresh—like it’s happening all over again. I can’t bear to see you suffer like that.”

Kamora gave a small, reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Gwen. I’m stronger now. If I don’t find myself, I’ll lose my mind trying to ignore the past.”

“Did something happen?”

“Yes,” Kamora said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Lord Maroke woke up one morning and claimed I’m his wife.”

“What?” Gwen’s eyes widened.

“You may tell me not to believe him, but what if he’s telling the truth?” Kamora’s voice trembled. “What if Jarosh is really my son? Can I just walk away from that?”

“If he were your son,” Gwen said quietly, “I’d know.”

“But would you?” Kamora countered. “You said yourself that Lord Maroke can’t be trusted. What if he hid the truth all this time—kept it from the world?”

She raked a hand through her hair, frustration pouring out in a sigh. “Ever since I arrived here, this place has felt…familiar. Too familiar. I tried to ignore it. I thought any past that left me half-dead in a forest wasn’t worth revisiting. But I can’t run anymore. I need to know what happened to me.”

Gwen looked at her long and hard, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded.

“Okay then. I’ll help you.”

“Really?” Kamora’s face lit up. “Thank you!”

She threw her arms around her sister, hugging her tight and bouncing with joy.

“Anything for you,” Gwen murmured.

But the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

***

“So, what are you going to do?” Gwen asked as Kamora pulled away.

“I have to find the men who rescued me,” Kamora said softly.

“It’s been eight years,” Gwen pointed out. “Have you kept in contact with them?”

“No,” Kamora admitted. “But if I ask around, maybe I can track them down. They were old hunters. I haven’t seen them in years, but they might still live near the place where they found me.”

“You said it was a forest,” Gwen mused. “Which one exactly?”

“It’s near a town on the outskirts of the capital.”

“Outside the capital?” Gwen frowned. “Isn’t that too far?”

“I know,” Kamora said with a small smile, taking Gwen’s hand. “But I can’t wait any longer. You promised to help me, Gwen. I’ll need you to watch out for me.”

Gwen sighed, conflicted. “I still don’t like this plan…but if it’s what you really want, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” Kamora said, her smile widening. She glanced up at the dark sky. “It’s already late. You should head back before anyone sees us.”

“When do you plan to go?”

Kamora furrowed her brows, thinking. “A week from today. Meet me in front of the Goddess’s grove by sunrise. We’ll find a carriage to take us out of the capital.”

Gwen nodded, her expression firm. “All right.” She hugged Kamora tightly. “Now go, before someone spots you.”

“But—’

“Don’t worry about me,” Gwen said, managing a smile. “Just go.”

Still uneasy, Kamora nodded and hurried out of the garden. She glanced back one last time. Gwen was still there, smiling.

Then Kamora entered the manor.

***

The princess descended the manor steps, flanked by Lord Maroke’s head maid and personal assistant.

Though she walked with grace, her insides were burning. Lord Maroke had insulted her—to her face.

She gave a low laugh. This was her fault. In trying to earn his favor, she’d forgotten who she was.

Her desperation had made him bold enough to speak down to her. And worst of all? He wasn’t wrong.

Her parents had no use for her. That truth stung…but it had its advantages.

She was often left alone, free to do as she pleased. For Lord Maroke, she’d tried to be kind. Civil.

Never again.

When they finally arrived at the entrance of the manor, his personal assistant spoke. “Apologies, Your Highness. Perhaps next time, with proper notice, we can prepare accordingly.”

The princess smiled bitterly. Even the servants were mocking her now.

She said nothing, just stepped into her carriage and slammed the door shut.

A figure rose from the opposite seat.

“What did you find?” the princess asked.

“Nothing at the manor, Your Highness,” Gwen replied. “But something else came up.”

The princess’s gaze snapped to her, eyes sharp with suppressed fury. “What happened?”

“Kamora found me,” Gwen said, bowing her head.

The princess’s eyes narrowed. “Seeing as you’re alive and unharmed, I assume nothing serious happened. So why ruin my evening with that pest’s name?”

“She told me something useful,” Gwen said quickly. “It seems…Lord Maroke has regained his memories.”

Silence fell. Heavy and tense.

The princess clenched her jaw, the grinding of her teeth almost audible.

“Really,” she said coolly. Her face twisted with fury. Her eyes were wide and unblinking, lips curled in disgust.

“No wonder,” she hissed. “No wonder he treated me that way. He ~remembers~.”

She threw her head back and laughed. The sound was grating.

“I have more, Your Highness,” Gwen said carefully. “Kamora plans to regain her own memories too.”

“What?”

“She’s leaving a week from today. I convinced her to let me come with her.”

The princess’s laughter stopped. A slow, wicked smile stretched across her face.

“You’ve done well.”

“What should I do next, Your Highness?”

“What do you mean?” the princess snapped. “You follow her, of course! And when you reach the place she was found…” Her smile turned feral. “You end her. Permanently.”

“Your Highness?” Gwen’s head shot up.

“What?” the princess said innocently. “Don’t act like this is your first time.”

Truly, discovering Gwen had been a stroke of fortune. Never before had the princess met someone who so deeply despised her sibling that she would kill her without remorse.

Her own siblings disliked her—but they’d never tried to end her life. For that alone, she pitied Kamora.

“Do what you did before,” the princess said, her voice smooth like poison. “This time, make sure it’s permanent.”

She leaned back, eyes gleaming as a new thought struck her. “I’ll fetch Lord Maroke’s son that same day. Let him choose—his so-called lover or his child. Let’s see who he picks.”

She laughed again, thrilled.

“Oh, it’s a perfect plan,” she whispered. “Once it’s done, I’ll give him a few days to grieve. Then I’ll console him. And after that…” Her grin widened. “He’ll have no choice but to love me.”