Chapter 9: Chapter 9

KAMORA

It had been a few days since Kamora began working as Jarosh’s personal maid. The day before she fully started her new job, Petal had held her tightly and cried as she packed her clothes.

It had always been the two of them since they arrived, both having each other’s back. But now, Kamora would have to move to the upper floor where the young lord resided.

“I will miss you,” Petal said, hugging her close.

“I’ll miss you more,” Kamora replied, sniffing.

Later that day, with her small luggage clutched tightly in her hands, Kamora made her way to the upper floor. After moving into the room where the upper-floor maids rested, she headed straight to Lord Jarosh’s room to begin her chores.

It hadn’t been easy. Lord Jarosh made her do everything—from preparing various dishes to walking endless rounds around the manor’s garden, simply because he wanted some fresh air, to trying to find out whether his father was around or not.

Fortunately, the main lord of the manor hadn’t been around. She didn’t know how she would face him if he had.

Her dreams had become more aggressive. She kept hearing Lord Maroke’s voice but never saw his face.

She always found herself trapped in a dark room; the kind of darkness so thick she couldn’t even see her own hands. No walls, no doors—just blackness.

The only thing grounding her was Lord Maroke’s voice: warm, deep, and maddeningly sensual—nothing like the cold, indifferent tone he had used with her the other day. She always woke up feeling strange, the sensation both foreign and somehow familiar.

She was currently in Jarosh’s room, both of them going over his assignments. He had just finished his lesson with the young scholar assigned to him and was now grumbling about the mountain of work he still had left to complete.

“It is for your own good,” Kamora said, trying to placate him. “You have to become extremely smart since you are going to take over from your father one day.”

“But I do not want to,” he groaned. “Everything is so hard.”

Kamora smiled, her heart softening at the endearing pout he wore. Jarosh only ever acted this way in front of her, and while she was honored, she wished he could enjoy more freedom—live more like a child.

“Okay then, how about this?” She and the young lord were seated at his study table, and she shifted closer to him, hoping to coax him with a bit of motivation.

“If you are able to finish all of these,” she said, throwing a pointed glance at the stack of assignments, “then I’ll make any food of your choosing.”

He shook his head. “I want something else,” he said.

“What do you want?” His gaze turned calculating, and then a mischievous smile bloomed on his face.

“I want to go to the commoners’ market!” he exclaimed. “I am sure there are a whole lot of other foods I’ve never tried there.”

“Young Lord!” Kamora exclaimed, trying to appear horrified—but failing miserably. “You are a young noble. You can’t be seen in places like that!”

“Why not?” He frowned, genuinely curious.

“Well, nobles do not bother themselves coming to a place like that,” Kamora answered, scrambling for a reasonable excuse. “If you need anything, I can always get it for you.”

Jarosh pouted. “But I want to go there myself.”

“I doubt your father would agree to this,” Kamora said, hoping that would end the conversation.

But the young lord huffed, his expression determined. “Leave him to me. I can take care of him. You just have to promise to take me there when I finish all these assignments.”

Kamora sighed. Knowing full well that his father wouldn’t approve, she nodded.

“Okay then. I agree,” she said.

His grin widened, turning her heart to mush.

Before she knew it, she reached out and pinched his cheeks. “You are very adorable, my lord,” she said.

Jarosh’s face turned red as he quickly looked away, pretending to focus on his work.

“Let’s get on with it,” he muttered, his voice shy.

Kamora smiled and watched as he started his assignments. Time slipped away, and Kamora couldn’t tell how long they’d stayed like that.

Just as Jarosh completed the last of his work, the door to his room creaked open, and in walked his father—looking as regal as ever in a fitted dark coat that made his presence feel heavier.

Kamora stood up at once and bowed. “Welcome back, my lord,” she said, then straightened and met his gaze.

He hummed in response, his eyes sweeping the room briefly before settling on them again. His gaze moved from his son, to her, and then back.

“You have been busy,” he remarked from the doorway.

Jarosh stood up, visibly pleased but also visibly puzzled. “Welcome back, Father,” he said, walking up to him. “You returned quite early today.”

“I had some work to do at home,” Lord Maroke said, his eyes flicking back to Kamora.

He finally stepped away from the entrance—shutting the door behind him—and walked over to the table, where Kamora still stood. The closer he got, the louder her heart thudded in her chest.

She could feel heat blooming on her skin and prayed the heavens would hide it. His son followed beside him and dropped into the chair he had just vacated, while his father took the seat Kamora had occupied moments ago.

Their closeness made her take a cautious step back. That single movement caught Lord Maroke’s eye, and when he looked at her, her breath hitched.

“We did all the assignments my teacher gave me,” Jarosh announced, drawing his father’s attention. “Kamora helped me with it.”

Lord Maroke simply hummed again, his eyes briefly scanning the documents on the table. Silence stretched uncomfortably before Jarosh finally asked, “Father? Why are you here? Is something wrong?”

Lord Maroke looked at him, his face unreadable. “Why? Can’t I come to see my son?”

The words were so out of place coming from him that Kamora instinctively did a double take, scanning his face for any cracks. As expected, it remained blank.

Jarosh was also caught off guard, evident in the way his eyes widened slightly at his father’s confession. Then she saw something rare—his eyes lit up with happiness.

To her surprise, he quickly tried to tamp it down. He turned to her, and that hidden happiness was quickly replaced by mischief.

“Father,” he began, “Kamora made me a promise.”

~Oh no. He can’t possibly be asking him now.~

“She said that if I were to complete my assignments, she would take me to the commoners’ market.”

“Did she now?” Lord Maroke said, turning his full attention to her.

The intensity of his stare sent a chill skimming down her skin. She gulped, readying an excuse when—

“Sure. I will allow it.”