THREE
CAMILLE'S POV
I still didn't understand why after what I had seen. I walked back to the dining room like nothing had happened. My eyes were probably still red and I could still taste vomit on my tongue. But it wasn't like they were going to notice. I was a ghost in this house.
"Eva and I have sorted things out," I told my stepmother.
Adele nodded, seemingly satisfied with the response.
I looked at my food and contemplated whether I should keep on eating. I still felt sick to the stomach. What boiled my blood even more was the fact that neither Eva nor Hector was back. I wondered if they were still inside each other's mouths. The goddess knows they must have done much more than that.
Hector rejoined us soon after. He was happy. His smile was the kind of smile that showed all thirty-two of your teeth. It made my stomach twist and turn again. So I reached for a glass of water and gulped it down.
"Eva is settled now," He made it known.
I held on to the glass in my mouth so tight that I feared that it would shatter in my grasp. It didn't of course. Thank Selene. I didn't want to cause a scene.
"Hmmm," My stepmother nodded. "Camille told us."
Hector looked at me like a man full of guilt. It was for a millisecond.
"You were upstairs?" He asked.
I couldn't bring myself to answer. My voice would probably crack. I would break into tears or worse, I would vomit. So I offered him a nod instead and proceeded to start stuffing more food into my mouth.
Hector stood there, staring me down for the longest second before taking his seat and eating.
"This is good, Camille," Hector praised the food. "The moon goddess really must love me if she paired me up with you."
He had no idea how much his words made me sick. I wanted to take the fork in my hands and gut him in the throat with it. At least, his lying hole would stop it with the lies. I still didn't get it though. I still didn't get why he was doing this. If Eva was the one that he wanted, he could have had her. He was the son of the pack's Beta. He wasn't some lowlife. Whatever was between them looked like it had been happening long before I arrived. If Hector had made his interests known when I had walked into this house and the goddess had matched us, I would have let him go. But he didn't. He kept his affair a secret. He didn't even put an end to it. That was the worst part. He still wanted her. So why was he deceiving me?
Chills ran down my spine just thinking about how unhappy my life would have been if we did get married. I would have married a man who wanted my sister. Perhaps Eva's outburst was a blessing in disguise. I had to end things with Hector as skin as I could.
I should have said the words right there. 'Hector, I think we should end things'. It would have been dramatic but if he didn't agree, I would air out his dirty laundry. But I didn't say a word. Despite the brewing storm in my mind, I managed a smile and focused on my plate. I was weak.
"Hector," My father broke the silence. "We got a letter from the Lycan kingdom that King Dimitri Galdina would be fastening his visit to our pack. With the way his envoys are moving, I suspect that they will be here in two days."
"We will be ready to take him, Alpha Lucian," Hector replied.
I didn't know much about werewolf and Lycan politics but I did find it odd to hear that the Lycan kingdom, especially the king of the Lycans would be visiting the Lily of the Valley pack. Lycans were like distant cousins to werewolves but it did not mean that they liked us. Both species hated themselves. So hearing my father talking about receiving the Lycan king with glee made it seem like I was missing something so I stopped eating and listened instead. This was probably the first time that I had taken interest in the matters of the pack.
"How are the pheasants we are breeding?" My father asked Hector. "We have to make a good impression and what better way to do that than to cater to King Dimitri's tastes?"
"They are healthy," Hector responded, slicing through the tension with practised ease. "I've instructed the servants to maintain a vigilant watch over them while we feed them towards slaughter. King Dimitri's preferences will be well taken care of, rest assured."
"Good," Father said.
Adele, my stepmother, chimed in with a smile, "It's crucial that everything goes smoothly during his visit. Camille, dear, perhaps you could stay out of the kitchen when the Lycan kingdom visits."
I nodded, outwardly agreeing while my mind continued to churn with the unsettling images of Hector and Eva. "Of course."
Silence ensued and everyone focused on emptying their plates. Father was the first to finish.
"Thank you for the food, Camille." He said, getting up. "You are a wonderful cook but I believe you will make a wonderful addition to the pack's clinic. If you are free today, you should check it out."
I nodded, knowing I was going to defy him. The clinic held no allure for someone with no affinity for herbs or elixirs, and the mere thought of blood made my stomach churn. But I held my reservations behind a practised facade.
"We will be on our way then," Father declared, signalling their departure as he and Hector stepped outside.
As the door closed behind them, I sighed, happy that the tension in the room had dissipated.
With Hector now outside the mansion, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. The twisting and turning in my stomach subsided, granting me a momentary peace from the turbulent emotions that had churned within.
I finished my food as soon as Hector was out of the room and as soon as I was done, I proceeded to clear the dining table. It was a habit of mine having grown up with a close-knit family like the Gallaghers.
My stepmother had stopped eating as soon as my father and Hector stepped out so I figured she was full.
"Are you done, Mother?" I asked.
"I am," She replied and I took the plate only for her voice to cut through the quiet. "Drop it, Camille!"
"What?!" I was taken aback by her retort.
"I said, drop it. Let the servants do their job. It is why they are here."
"I just wanted to hel–" She didn't let me finish.
"Trying so hard to be loved and noticed is pathetic and disgusting, Camille."She cut in. "Whether we like you or not, you are here to stay solely because you are Lucian's daughter. You don't have to try so hard for him to notice you. If you are anything like your maternal grandmother, you will soon have every werewolf kissing the very ground you walk."
Her words hung in the air and I really didn't even know what to say. Her words stung. That was probably her intention. Now that father wasn't here. She didn't have to hide it anymore.
I felt small because of what she said because it did have some semblance of truth in it, even if it came from a cruel place. Yet, amidst the darkness, a newfound resolve flickered to life.
"I'm not trying to win anyone's affection, Mother," I replied, my voice steady.
"Camille," Adele scoffed. "I am not your mother. The bitch is dead."
Her words cut deep, but I refused to let them break me. Tears welled up, threatening to spill over, but I blinked them back. "I'm simply finding my place in this pack."
"Well, good luck with that." Adele sneered with just as much venom.
It would probably be satisfying to go down and dirty with her just like she wanted. But I wasn't going to do that. I decided that I was going to be the bigger person.
"If you'll excuse me, I need some fresh air."
Stepping away, I found solace outside of the house. The Dumont family home could be one big house but it didn't feel like a home. Which said something if the air outside the house felt fresher.
The morning held a quiet beauty that was a stark contrast to the turmoil within the mansion.
As I wandered, I found myself at the back of the house. There I found the pheasants that father had mentioned.
Looking at those birds from outside the pen was like stumbling into a secret garden. Their feathers were all over the place. Like, seriously, every colour you could think of was on those things. I didn't even know birds could be so fancy. There were browns, reds, blues, and who knows what else.
They kept strutting around like they were on some kind of runway too.
There was this constant soft chatter too, like they were having a meeting or something. It felt like being in the middle of a bird conference. And the way they occasionally flapped their wings made it seem like they were dreaming of breaking free. I could relate to that feeling.
It was just a bunch of wild, beautiful chaos. The kind of thing you'd never expect to bump into in the backyard.
Then, as if on cue, the servants approached with a bag in their hand that looked a lot like bird feed. I figured it was probably for the pheasants' daily feeding.
Seeing an opportunity to distract myself, I walked up to them and asked, "Are you going to feed the pheasants?"
They were nervous. Their hesitant nods were almost comical, like they were caught off guard. "Yes, Lady Camille," one of them managed to stammer.
"Well, why don't I give you a hand?" I offered, expecting some resistance.
To my surprise, they exchanged glances and then reluctantly handed me the bird feed. "Feeding the pheasants is crucial to the Alpha," one of them explained as if that justified their initial hesitation.
With a subtle smile, I replied, "I know you're prepping the birds for the Lycan king. I'll make sure to take extra care of them."
They still seemed uneasy, but they let me take charge. Dragging the bird feed to the pen, I felt a strange sense of accomplishment.
It was a small victory, but at that moment, amidst the vibrant chaos of those pheasants, it felt like a step towards finding my place in this unfamiliar world.
***
In the afternoon, I headed to the kitchen to prepare something for lunch.
Noodles would do, I thought but as I stepped into the kitchen, I noticed that there was a strange tension that lingered in the air.
The servants exchanged furtive glances at me while they whispered.
It took that much to tell me that something was amiss. So I asked one of the servants.
"Is something wrong? Why does everyone look pale?"
The expression of the girl I was talking to darkened. "You don't have to worry about it, Miss Camille.
That made things worse. Because as much as the servants were trying to hide it. They all gave me dirty looks.
"They're all dead," one of the servants who was bold enough muttered, avoiding eye contact.
"Dead? Who?"
"The pheasants we were breeding." Sgre retorted. "Every single one of them is dead."
A chill ran down my spine. Dead pheasants could only mean trouble, and it seemed the blame was already shifting in my direction. Determined to get to the bottom of this, I hurried to the pen, my heart pounding with apprehension.
The second I stepped inside, the sight that greeted me was a scene of eerie stillness.
The lifeless bodies of the once-vibrant pheasants lay scattered across the ground. Panic gripped me; this wasn't just a mishap—it looked intentional.
The accusing glances from the kitchen now made more sense. Somehow, the blame must have been pinned on me, and the weight of suspicion hung heavy in the air. I was the last to feed the damn creatures.
I was an outsider in this pack, and every misstep only widened the chasm between me and the ones who were supposed to be my family.
Desperation and frustration surged within me. I needed to find out who was behind this sabotage, not just to clear my name but to salvage any chance of acceptance in this unforgiving pack.
I had barely had the chance to come up with a way to clear my name when I heard Hector's accusing voice cut through the heavy air.
"Did you kill the pheasants, Camille?" he demanded, his eyes piercing into mine.
The accusation hit me like a slap in the face. "No, of course not! Why would I do such a thing?" I retorted, my indignation rising.
Hector's scepticism deepened. "Maybe this is your way of getting revenge on your father for something. You've been trying to find your place in this pack, and what better way to disrupt it than by destroying something crucial to Alpha Lucien?"
His words stung, and anger flared within me. Before I knew it, I slapped him. "I don't expect cheaters to trust anyone. But I do not answer to you. I didn't do it." I shot back, frustration and betrayal bubbling to the surface.
The accusation was not just an attack on my character; it was a blow to the fragile hope I had harboured of being accepted in this pack.
"The servants said you were the one who fed the animals last." My father's voice reverberated behind me.
I turned to face him. I hadn't even been aware of his presence. When I turned, I found his angry face just inches away from mine.
Startled, I instinctively bowed. "Father, I didn't poison the birds," I pleaded, hoping my sincerity would break through the cloud of suspicion.
It did not look like that would work out for me. His gaze bore into mine, searching for any sign of deceit.
"The Lycan king's visit is crucial for our pack's standing. Do you think I know why the fuck Lycans, our natural enemies seek us out? We are hoping whatever it is King Dimitri is visiting us for, we'll stay on his good side. If you are responsible for this. Camille, it not only endangers us but you dishonour your father and it doesn't matter whose daughter you are, you will be punished."
"I would never jeopardize the pack or my father's position," I insisted, my voice tinged with desperation. "You have to believe me."
"I do not," Father declared with an unwavering gaze.
"Take her to her room," Father ordered, his voice cutting through the charged air and a guard, seemingly materializing from the shadows walked towards me.
"Miss Camille, follow me."
I did not fight. I did not argue. There was no point in doing that. So I let the guard escort me away.
A surge of nausea overwhelmed me when we reached the door of my room and I couldn't contain the bile rising in my throat.
Before I could rush to the bathroom, it spilled out. All of it.
Vomiting on the carpet of my room, I felt a sudden weakness as reality crashed around me.
The guard, maintaining an emotionless facade, called for another servant to attend to me.
When the servant arrived with the tools to scrub my vomit out of the nice Persian carpet, the servant locked the door behind us while the guard stayed outside.
The servant who arrived promptly and immediately got to work, eyed me with a mix of pity and duty.
"Are you alright, Lady Camille?" she asked, concern etched on her face as she began to clean the mess.
"I am," I replied. "I'm not sure why I keep getting nauseated."
The servant paused, glancing up at me with a knowing expression. "Lady Camille, forgive me for prying, but have you seen your period recently?"
The question caught me off guard, and for a moment, my mind raced. Now that she mentioned it, I couldn't recall the last time I had. Panic flickered in my eyes, but I quickly composed myself.
"Oh, I am not pregnant. it's just stress and everything going on," I explained, attempting to dismiss the concern. "I'm sure it's nothing. Just a little under the weather."
The servant nodded, but her gaze held a subtle scepticism. "If you say so, Lady Camille. Should I fetch some tea for you?"
I agreed, hoping that a warm beverage would both soothe my nerves and provide a plausible reason for my discomfort.
When the servant left to prepare the tea, I couldn't shake the growing sense of unease. Dead pheasants. Now this. I had not seen my period, and the implications of that hit me like a sudden storm. Panic tightened its grip on my chest.
Could it be possible? The only encounter I had was that one-night stand with a stranger. My mind raced, connecting the dots with dread.
I was pregnant with a stranger's baby.
CAMILLE'S POV
I still didn't understand why after what I had seen. I walked back to the dining room like nothing had happened. My eyes were probably still red and I could still taste vomit on my tongue. But it wasn't like they were going to notice. I was a ghost in this house.
"Eva and I have sorted things out," I told my stepmother.
Adele nodded, seemingly satisfied with the response.
I looked at my food and contemplated whether I should keep on eating. I still felt sick to the stomach. What boiled my blood even more was the fact that neither Eva nor Hector was back. I wondered if they were still inside each other's mouths. The goddess knows they must have done much more than that.
Hector rejoined us soon after. He was happy. His smile was the kind of smile that showed all thirty-two of your teeth. It made my stomach twist and turn again. So I reached for a glass of water and gulped it down.
"Eva is settled now," He made it known.
I held on to the glass in my mouth so tight that I feared that it would shatter in my grasp. It didn't of course. Thank Selene. I didn't want to cause a scene.
"Hmmm," My stepmother nodded. "Camille told us."
Hector looked at me like a man full of guilt. It was for a millisecond.
"You were upstairs?" He asked.
I couldn't bring myself to answer. My voice would probably crack. I would break into tears or worse, I would vomit. So I offered him a nod instead and proceeded to start stuffing more food into my mouth.
Hector stood there, staring me down for the longest second before taking his seat and eating.
"This is good, Camille," Hector praised the food. "The moon goddess really must love me if she paired me up with you."
He had no idea how much his words made me sick. I wanted to take the fork in my hands and gut him in the throat with it. At least, his lying hole would stop it with the lies. I still didn't get it though. I still didn't get why he was doing this. If Eva was the one that he wanted, he could have had her. He was the son of the pack's Beta. He wasn't some lowlife. Whatever was between them looked like it had been happening long before I arrived. If Hector had made his interests known when I had walked into this house and the goddess had matched us, I would have let him go. But he didn't. He kept his affair a secret. He didn't even put an end to it. That was the worst part. He still wanted her. So why was he deceiving me?
Chills ran down my spine just thinking about how unhappy my life would have been if we did get married. I would have married a man who wanted my sister. Perhaps Eva's outburst was a blessing in disguise. I had to end things with Hector as skin as I could.
I should have said the words right there. 'Hector, I think we should end things'. It would have been dramatic but if he didn't agree, I would air out his dirty laundry. But I didn't say a word. Despite the brewing storm in my mind, I managed a smile and focused on my plate. I was weak.
"Hector," My father broke the silence. "We got a letter from the Lycan kingdom that King Dimitri Galdina would be fastening his visit to our pack. With the way his envoys are moving, I suspect that they will be here in two days."
"We will be ready to take him, Alpha Lucian," Hector replied.
I didn't know much about werewolf and Lycan politics but I did find it odd to hear that the Lycan kingdom, especially the king of the Lycans would be visiting the Lily of the Valley pack. Lycans were like distant cousins to werewolves but it did not mean that they liked us. Both species hated themselves. So hearing my father talking about receiving the Lycan king with glee made it seem like I was missing something so I stopped eating and listened instead. This was probably the first time that I had taken interest in the matters of the pack.
"How are the pheasants we are breeding?" My father asked Hector. "We have to make a good impression and what better way to do that than to cater to King Dimitri's tastes?"
"They are healthy," Hector responded, slicing through the tension with practised ease. "I've instructed the servants to maintain a vigilant watch over them while we feed them towards slaughter. King Dimitri's preferences will be well taken care of, rest assured."
"Good," Father said.
Adele, my stepmother, chimed in with a smile, "It's crucial that everything goes smoothly during his visit. Camille, dear, perhaps you could stay out of the kitchen when the Lycan kingdom visits."
I nodded, outwardly agreeing while my mind continued to churn with the unsettling images of Hector and Eva. "Of course."
Silence ensued and everyone focused on emptying their plates. Father was the first to finish.
"Thank you for the food, Camille." He said, getting up. "You are a wonderful cook but I believe you will make a wonderful addition to the pack's clinic. If you are free today, you should check it out."
I nodded, knowing I was going to defy him. The clinic held no allure for someone with no affinity for herbs or elixirs, and the mere thought of blood made my stomach churn. But I held my reservations behind a practised facade.
"We will be on our way then," Father declared, signalling their departure as he and Hector stepped outside.
As the door closed behind them, I sighed, happy that the tension in the room had dissipated.
With Hector now outside the mansion, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. The twisting and turning in my stomach subsided, granting me a momentary peace from the turbulent emotions that had churned within.
I finished my food as soon as Hector was out of the room and as soon as I was done, I proceeded to clear the dining table. It was a habit of mine having grown up with a close-knit family like the Gallaghers.
My stepmother had stopped eating as soon as my father and Hector stepped out so I figured she was full.
"Are you done, Mother?" I asked.
"I am," She replied and I took the plate only for her voice to cut through the quiet. "Drop it, Camille!"
"What?!" I was taken aback by her retort.
"I said, drop it. Let the servants do their job. It is why they are here."
"I just wanted to hel–" She didn't let me finish.
"Trying so hard to be loved and noticed is pathetic and disgusting, Camille."She cut in. "Whether we like you or not, you are here to stay solely because you are Lucian's daughter. You don't have to try so hard for him to notice you. If you are anything like your maternal grandmother, you will soon have every werewolf kissing the very ground you walk."
Her words hung in the air and I really didn't even know what to say. Her words stung. That was probably her intention. Now that father wasn't here. She didn't have to hide it anymore.
I felt small because of what she said because it did have some semblance of truth in it, even if it came from a cruel place. Yet, amidst the darkness, a newfound resolve flickered to life.
"I'm not trying to win anyone's affection, Mother," I replied, my voice steady.
"Camille," Adele scoffed. "I am not your mother. The bitch is dead."
Her words cut deep, but I refused to let them break me. Tears welled up, threatening to spill over, but I blinked them back. "I'm simply finding my place in this pack."
"Well, good luck with that." Adele sneered with just as much venom.
It would probably be satisfying to go down and dirty with her just like she wanted. But I wasn't going to do that. I decided that I was going to be the bigger person.
"If you'll excuse me, I need some fresh air."
Stepping away, I found solace outside of the house. The Dumont family home could be one big house but it didn't feel like a home. Which said something if the air outside the house felt fresher.
The morning held a quiet beauty that was a stark contrast to the turmoil within the mansion.
As I wandered, I found myself at the back of the house. There I found the pheasants that father had mentioned.
Looking at those birds from outside the pen was like stumbling into a secret garden. Their feathers were all over the place. Like, seriously, every colour you could think of was on those things. I didn't even know birds could be so fancy. There were browns, reds, blues, and who knows what else.
They kept strutting around like they were on some kind of runway too.
There was this constant soft chatter too, like they were having a meeting or something. It felt like being in the middle of a bird conference. And the way they occasionally flapped their wings made it seem like they were dreaming of breaking free. I could relate to that feeling.
It was just a bunch of wild, beautiful chaos. The kind of thing you'd never expect to bump into in the backyard.
Then, as if on cue, the servants approached with a bag in their hand that looked a lot like bird feed. I figured it was probably for the pheasants' daily feeding.
Seeing an opportunity to distract myself, I walked up to them and asked, "Are you going to feed the pheasants?"
They were nervous. Their hesitant nods were almost comical, like they were caught off guard. "Yes, Lady Camille," one of them managed to stammer.
"Well, why don't I give you a hand?" I offered, expecting some resistance.
To my surprise, they exchanged glances and then reluctantly handed me the bird feed. "Feeding the pheasants is crucial to the Alpha," one of them explained as if that justified their initial hesitation.
With a subtle smile, I replied, "I know you're prepping the birds for the Lycan king. I'll make sure to take extra care of them."
They still seemed uneasy, but they let me take charge. Dragging the bird feed to the pen, I felt a strange sense of accomplishment.
It was a small victory, but at that moment, amidst the vibrant chaos of those pheasants, it felt like a step towards finding my place in this unfamiliar world.
***
In the afternoon, I headed to the kitchen to prepare something for lunch.
Noodles would do, I thought but as I stepped into the kitchen, I noticed that there was a strange tension that lingered in the air.
The servants exchanged furtive glances at me while they whispered.
It took that much to tell me that something was amiss. So I asked one of the servants.
"Is something wrong? Why does everyone look pale?"
The expression of the girl I was talking to darkened. "You don't have to worry about it, Miss Camille.
That made things worse. Because as much as the servants were trying to hide it. They all gave me dirty looks.
"They're all dead," one of the servants who was bold enough muttered, avoiding eye contact.
"Dead? Who?"
"The pheasants we were breeding." Sgre retorted. "Every single one of them is dead."
A chill ran down my spine. Dead pheasants could only mean trouble, and it seemed the blame was already shifting in my direction. Determined to get to the bottom of this, I hurried to the pen, my heart pounding with apprehension.
The second I stepped inside, the sight that greeted me was a scene of eerie stillness.
The lifeless bodies of the once-vibrant pheasants lay scattered across the ground. Panic gripped me; this wasn't just a mishap—it looked intentional.
The accusing glances from the kitchen now made more sense. Somehow, the blame must have been pinned on me, and the weight of suspicion hung heavy in the air. I was the last to feed the damn creatures.
I was an outsider in this pack, and every misstep only widened the chasm between me and the ones who were supposed to be my family.
Desperation and frustration surged within me. I needed to find out who was behind this sabotage, not just to clear my name but to salvage any chance of acceptance in this unforgiving pack.
I had barely had the chance to come up with a way to clear my name when I heard Hector's accusing voice cut through the heavy air.
"Did you kill the pheasants, Camille?" he demanded, his eyes piercing into mine.
The accusation hit me like a slap in the face. "No, of course not! Why would I do such a thing?" I retorted, my indignation rising.
Hector's scepticism deepened. "Maybe this is your way of getting revenge on your father for something. You've been trying to find your place in this pack, and what better way to disrupt it than by destroying something crucial to Alpha Lucien?"
His words stung, and anger flared within me. Before I knew it, I slapped him. "I don't expect cheaters to trust anyone. But I do not answer to you. I didn't do it." I shot back, frustration and betrayal bubbling to the surface.
The accusation was not just an attack on my character; it was a blow to the fragile hope I had harboured of being accepted in this pack.
"The servants said you were the one who fed the animals last." My father's voice reverberated behind me.
I turned to face him. I hadn't even been aware of his presence. When I turned, I found his angry face just inches away from mine.
Startled, I instinctively bowed. "Father, I didn't poison the birds," I pleaded, hoping my sincerity would break through the cloud of suspicion.
It did not look like that would work out for me. His gaze bore into mine, searching for any sign of deceit.
"The Lycan king's visit is crucial for our pack's standing. Do you think I know why the fuck Lycans, our natural enemies seek us out? We are hoping whatever it is King Dimitri is visiting us for, we'll stay on his good side. If you are responsible for this. Camille, it not only endangers us but you dishonour your father and it doesn't matter whose daughter you are, you will be punished."
"I would never jeopardize the pack or my father's position," I insisted, my voice tinged with desperation. "You have to believe me."
"I do not," Father declared with an unwavering gaze.
"Take her to her room," Father ordered, his voice cutting through the charged air and a guard, seemingly materializing from the shadows walked towards me.
"Miss Camille, follow me."
I did not fight. I did not argue. There was no point in doing that. So I let the guard escort me away.
A surge of nausea overwhelmed me when we reached the door of my room and I couldn't contain the bile rising in my throat.
Before I could rush to the bathroom, it spilled out. All of it.
Vomiting on the carpet of my room, I felt a sudden weakness as reality crashed around me.
The guard, maintaining an emotionless facade, called for another servant to attend to me.
When the servant arrived with the tools to scrub my vomit out of the nice Persian carpet, the servant locked the door behind us while the guard stayed outside.
The servant who arrived promptly and immediately got to work, eyed me with a mix of pity and duty.
"Are you alright, Lady Camille?" she asked, concern etched on her face as she began to clean the mess.
"I am," I replied. "I'm not sure why I keep getting nauseated."
The servant paused, glancing up at me with a knowing expression. "Lady Camille, forgive me for prying, but have you seen your period recently?"
The question caught me off guard, and for a moment, my mind raced. Now that she mentioned it, I couldn't recall the last time I had. Panic flickered in my eyes, but I quickly composed myself.
"Oh, I am not pregnant. it's just stress and everything going on," I explained, attempting to dismiss the concern. "I'm sure it's nothing. Just a little under the weather."
The servant nodded, but her gaze held a subtle scepticism. "If you say so, Lady Camille. Should I fetch some tea for you?"
I agreed, hoping that a warm beverage would both soothe my nerves and provide a plausible reason for my discomfort.
When the servant left to prepare the tea, I couldn't shake the growing sense of unease. Dead pheasants. Now this. I had not seen my period, and the implications of that hit me like a sudden storm. Panic tightened its grip on my chest.
Could it be possible? The only encounter I had was that one-night stand with a stranger. My mind raced, connecting the dots with dread.
I was pregnant with a stranger's baby.