ROME

ng table occupied by a group of younger maids known for their incessant gossiping. I kept my h

ement about the Pack Gala, w

one of them gushed, a dreamy look on her face. "They al

be there. The thought of him walking into this castle, into the doma

an opportunity

a bedroom or scrubbing floors, but out

her pretty maid named Holly Hicks. She was boasting

stand at the stone bridge in the west garden and direct guests to the conse

, secluded spot, but a necessary path for guests movin

ost to memory. A plan, cold and precise

routine, her habits. I noticed she had a sweet tooth, always sneaking leftover pastries fr

ound what I was looking for easily: a common, harmless-looking root that, when dr

small alcove, fanning her flushed face. I approached her with a plate in my hand, on which sat a single, perfect

mpathy. "You look exhausted. I saved this

t innocent, wide-

you're a lifesaver!" she said, her gratitude genu

ainst my ribs. This was the first active step in my revenge. It

arriages began to arrive, chaos

te. A cold sweat beaded on her forehead as she clutched her s

a thundercloud when she saw the s

her voice sharp with fury. "O

eft empty. Beatrice's eyes scanned the pan

moment, my expression a perfect

together. "If... if you need someone, I cou

. She was annoyed, flustered, and out

arp finger at me. "Anitra! Go get a cl

I felt dizzy. But on the outside, I just nodded franti

I had my tick

apron pocket. It was a small, flat piece of metal, broken from a discarded kitchen tool,