Chapter 4: Chapter 4

KAMORA

Three days had passed.

Kamora and Petal were assigned to both kitchen and hallway duties, so they remained in the room adjoining the kitchen. The new friends they had made were moved to other parts of the castle.

Kamora had also met her new roommates, all of whom had been working in the manor for years. They always looked worn-out and barely acknowledged either her or Petal beyond a nod or grunt.

She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but she was grateful to get through each day without any problems. She was slowly getting used to life in the manor.

Aside from how eerily quiet it always was, she liked the calm. Everyone went about their day in silence, and when night came, she and Petal would whisper about their day until fatigue pulled them into sleep.

But while her days were smooth, Kamora’s nights were anything but. In the dead of night, the voice returned—calling her name with a clarity that made her question whether it was truly in her head.

She had woken up several times, pulse racing, convinced someone was whispering her name in the dark. Each time, she lay back down trembling, heart pounding in confusion.

Tonight was no different. But it was about to take a scarier turn.

She and Petal had finished their duties and were now lying on their mats. The room was dim, filled with the soft sounds of breathing maids, all drifting or already lost in sleep.

Petal belonged to the latter. After her chores, the beautiful maid had stumbled into the room, managed a tired wave at Kamora, and collapsed onto her mat, falling asleep instantly.

Kamora didn’t have the heart to wake her, though she’d been waiting eagerly to share stories about her day. Kamora lay on her back, staring at the ceiling with her hands resting on her chest.

She liked the chores—they kept her mind busy, stopped the stream of intrusive thoughts that seemed to worsen since she arrived at the manor. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes, willing sleep to come.

And it did.

Blood. That was all she could see—dark, vivid, and endless. It poured from somewhere unseen, soaking into the floor.

She couldn’t tell where it came from, or whose it was. No one else was in sight.

She looked down at her hands. Blood covered her fingers—sticky, warm, and trembling.

Then, a voice echoed, laughing cruelly as it called her name. A chill sliced down her spine.

Her body screamed for her to run, but she couldn’t move. She was frozen in place.

~“You both will suffer!”~

Kamora jolted awake, gasping, her face slick with sweat. She looked over at Petal, who still slept soundly, then scanned the room.

Everyone else was asleep. Placing a hand over her chest, she tried to steady her breathing.

It helped a little, but the room still felt heavy—too warm, too thick to breathe properly. Glancing one last time at Petal, Kamora quietly stood, tiptoeing to the door that connected their room to the kitchen.

She opened it slowly, slipped through, and shut it gently behind her. Finally, she could breathe.

She drew in a deep breath and exhaled, letting the tension drain from her shoulders. Then she strolled further into the kitchen and sat on a stool beside the long wooden counter in the center.

~I’ll just rest here a bit~, she thought, leaning forward and letting the cool surface touch her arms. After a few quiet moments, she stood to light a candle.

Claudia had never told them not to, and even if she had, Kamora figured she could replace a candle easily enough. She walked to the shelves opposite where she’d sat. She opened one and took out a candle and a match.

She lit the candle and placed it in a candlestick she found nearby. Suddenly, a soft ruffling noise reached her ears.

She froze, breath held. Turning slowly, she scanned the room, eyes darting in search of the sound.

Movement flickered at the far end of the kitchen, just beside the entrance. Candle in hand, she inched forward, willing her legs not to shake.

The closer she got, the more she recognized where she was heading—the shelf where the desserts were kept. A wild animal? she wondered, her heart hammering.

Claudia would lose her mind if that were true. It wouldn’t reflect well on the maids either.

But what she found was worse.

The young Fae lord of the manor sat on the ground, cake crumbs smeared across his face. The sight was so ridiculous Kamora let out an involuntary chuckle.

The young lord scowled.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice muffled by whatever was still in his mouth.

Kamora crouched beside him, clutching the candlestick. She tilted her head, smiling.

“Young lord, what are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

“How dare you talk to me like I am your equal?” he snapped.

But Kamora wasn’t intimidated. Not with crumbs dotting his cheeks and his elegant features distorted by puffed-up, cake-filled ones.

Without thinking, she reached out and pinched his cheek.

“Forgive me, my lord,” she said brightly. “I couldn’t help it, seeing as you are so adorable.”

She had never felt so bold.

The young lord blushed, his frown deepening.

“You…!”

“Shh, my lord,” Kamora hushed him with a finger to her lips. “You do not want to awaken the rest. I’m sure the head maid wouldn’t appreciate seeing you like this.”

He huffed, brushing crumbs from his hands as he got up.

“She wouldn’t believe you. If I say you took the dessert, you’ll be punished.”

Kamora’s smile faltered.

“But aren’t you above telling such a petty lie, my lord? You seem more mature than that.”

The young Fae clenched his jaw, then pointed at her.

“You should learn to mind your business and accord me proper respect,” he said, lifting his chin, his voice full of pride. “I will forgive you today, since it’s your first mistake. But do not cross me again.”

He turned and began walking toward the kitchen’s exit, his stride stiff and crumbs still clinging to his face. It was clear he was trying to save what was left of his dignity.

Kamora might have taken him seriously, if not for the flush still blooming on his cheeks.

“My lord,” she called.

He stopped and glanced over his shoulder.

“What is it?”

“If you are patient enough, I can make you a far more delicious dessert.”

The flicker of curiosity in his eyes gave him away.

“What dessert?” he asked, trying to sound disinterested.

“Well, in the village, there’s this special snack made of bread—’

“Bread?” He wrinkled his nose. “What is so special about bread?”

“This bread is unlike any other,” Kamora said, her voice taking on a mischievous lilt. “It has fillings.”

He tilted his head. “What is that?”

She stepped closer, eyes gleaming.

“They bake the bread, then fill it with meat, carrot, peas—”

“Meat? Why would I want meat inside bread when I can have as much meat as I want?”

Kamora forced a smile. ~Not everyone can afford meat, my lord.~

“That shouldn’t be your focus. What should interest you is the taste. And trust me—it is heavenly.”

The boy stepped closer, eyes wide and gleaming like a child being told a secret.

Kamora’s heart softened again. How could someone look so regal and so endearing at the same time?

“Would you make it for me?” he asked.

Kamora beamed. “As you wish, my lord.”