Rumors

Liana's POV

I wanted to spend the day learning more about the castle byt I had no idea where I was going to.

Not with how people were giving me strange looks.

Down to the maids who came to my room to clean. They were all whispering amongst each other.

The whispers started small, faint murmurs that I could barely make out as I walked through the palace halls.

At first, I thought I was imagining it the quick glances, the half hidden smirks, the way conversations stopped the moment I entered a room.

But then, the rumors grew louder.

“She’s the one who killed that councilman, you know,” one of the maids said loudly as I passed by the kitchens. Her voice carried, sharp and biting, and I froze just out of sight.

“I heard it wasn’t just the councilman,” another chimed in, her tone conspiratorial. “She killed her own friend too. Olivia, wasn’t it? The healer? They said she died during the week she came and the. She tried to act as Luna to cover it up. Like oh my God.”

“That’s right,” the first maid said, her voice dripping with disdain. “Poor girl. Trying to help a snake like her, and what does she get in return? Betrayal. They say she watched her die.”

My breath caught in my throat, my hand tightening around the edge of the doorframe. How did they know about Olivia? How could they know?

I stepped into the room, my heart pounding. “That’s not true,” I said, my voice louder than I intended.

The two maids turned to me, their eyes narrowing. One of them, a tall woman with auburn hair, crossed her arms. “Oh? So you didn’t kill the councilman?”

“I didn’t,” I said firmly, though my voice wavered under their scrutiny. “It was self-defense. He…he attacked me.”

The other maid, a younger girl with freckles dusting her nose, scoffed. “And Olivia? Was that self-defense too?”

I flinched, the memory of Olivia’s bloodied body flashing in my mind. “I didn’t kill her,” I said, my voice shaking. “I would never—”

“But you watched her die, didn’t you?” the auburn-haired maid cut in, her tone cold and accusatory. “You were there. You let it happen.”

“No,” I whispered, my chest tightening. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then how was it?” she demanded, stepping closer. “Because all we hear are stories about the ‘new Luna’ who’s got blood on her hands. First a councilman, then her own friend. What’s next? The king?”

“Enough,” I snapped, my voice breaking. “You don’t know anything.”

The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to choke me. The auburn-haired maid raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of skepticism and disdain.

“You can’t silence the truth, Luna,” she said mockingly, the title dripping with sarcasm.

I swallowed hard, my fists clenched at my sides. “It wasn’t my fault,” I said quietly, my voice trembling. “I didn’t choose any of this.”

“Sure you didn’t,” the freckled maid muttered under her breath.

Without another word, they turned and left, their whispers starting again the moment they thought they were out of earshot.

---

The rumors followed me everywhere after that.

In the halls, I could feel the stares of the palace staff burning into my back. In the dining room, the servants barely met my eyes. Even Elise, who had always been cold and distant, seemed more hostile than usual.

“She must’ve bribed her way into the king’s favor,” I overheard one of the guards mutter as I passed by. “How else would someone like her end up here?”

Another voice replied, quieter but no less cruel. “The king probably doesn’t know the full story. If he did, she’d already be dead.”

Each word was like a dagger, sharp and unrelenting. I tried to ignore them, tried to focus on adjusting to life in the palace, but it was impossible.

They all thought I was a monster.

And the worst part? I couldn’t entirely blame them.

I’d been there when Olivia died, frozen in shock as the knife plunged into her chest. I had fought back against the councilman, and though I hadn’t meant to kill him, his death was real, his blood on my hands.

But they didn’t know the whole story. They didn’t know about the threats, the manipulation, the lies. All they saw was the aftermath, and no matter how hard I tried to defend myself, my words fell on deaf ears.

That afternoon, as I passed through the palace gardens, I heard another group of maids talking in hushed tones.

“Have you seen her?” one whispered. “The so-called Luna?”

“Yes,” another replied. “She doesn’t look like much. Certainly not someone fit to rule alongside the king.”

“She’s dangerous,” the first maid said. “Mark my words. If the king isn’t careful, she’ll bring ruin to this place.”

I rounded the corner, startling them into silence.

They stared at me, wide-eyed, before quickly lowering their gazes and scurrying away.

I stood there, rooted to the spot, my hands trembling. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface boiled over, and before I could stop myself, I shouted after them.

“I’m not a murderer!”

The words echoed through the garden, but the maids were already gone.

I sank onto a nearby bench, burying my face in my hands. Hot tears stung my eyes, and I clenched my fists, willing myself not to cry.

What was the use?

No matter what I said or did, they’d already made up their minds. I was the girl who had killed a councilman. The girl who had let her friend die. The girl who didn’t deserve to be here.

The whispers wouldn’t stop. They would never stop.

I scratched my skin, my body aching as I fought the urge to scream. My fingers dragged against my arms, desperate to peel away the invisible weight of their words. It felt like their accusations were burrowing under my skin, suffocating me.

I didn’t even notice the sound of approaching footsteps until a shadow fell over me.

“Liana.”

His voice was firm, yet it carried a softness I wasn’t used to.

I froze, turning to find Alaric standing a few feet away, his brows furrowed as his piercing blue eyes studied me. He wasn’t wearing his usual cold mask; instead, there was something else in his gaze. Concern, maybe?

“What are you doing?” he asked, stepping closer.

I quickly dropped my hands, hiding the angry red marks on my arms. “Nothing,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

“You’re scratching yourself raw,” he said, his tone sharpening.

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “It doesn’t matter.”

Alaric crouched slightly, bringing himself to my level. “It does if you’re hurting yourself,” he said firmly.

I let out a shaky breath, my chest tightening. “I just… I’ve had enough.”

“Enough of what?”

I hesitated, my hands balling into fists at my sides. “Of this,” I said, my voice cracking. “The rumors, the stares, the whispers every time I walk into a room. They think I’m some kind of monster.”

“They’re just rumors,” he said, his tone steady.

“They’re not just rumors,” I snapped, glaring at him through the tears threatening to spill. “They think I killed Olivia. That I stood there and watched her die. Do you know what that feels like?”

Alaric didn’t reply right away. Instead, he stepped closer and, to my surprise, placed a hand on my shoulder.

“People talk,” he said quietly. “That’s all they know how to do. You can’t let their words control you.”

My shoulders trembled, and before I could stop myself, the tears came.

“I didn’t want this,” I whispered, the words tumbling out in a flood of emotion. “I didn’t ask for any of it. I just wanted to survive. But no matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

I expected him to pull away, to let me cry alone. Instead, he did something I never would have imagined.

He pulled me into his arms.

The embrace was firm, grounding, his hand resting lightly on the back of my head as he let me sob into his chest. For a moment, the world outside of this moment—outside of him—faded away.

“You’re stronger than this,” he said, his voice low and calming. “Stronger than them.”

“I don’t feel strong,” I admitted, my voice muffled against his chest.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt my chin up so I could meet his gaze. “That’s because you’re too busy listening to their nonsense. Let them talk. Their words mean nothing.”

I swallowed, his words sinking in slowly. “It’s not easy.”

“It never is,” he said, his lips twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smile but wasn’t cold either. “But I’ll make it up to you.”

I blinked, confused. “What?”

“Come with me,” he said, standing and offering me his hand.

I stared at it, hesitant, but the sincerity in his expression made me reach out and take it.

---

The stables smelled of fresh hay and earth, the soft nickering of horses filling the air. It was surprisingly quiet, tucked away from the chaos of the palace.

Alaric led me inside, his movements purposeful but unhurried. “I come here when I need to clear my head,” he said, glancing back at me. “Thought you might need the same.”

I looked around, taking in the rows of stalls and the curious eyes of the horses peering out. “You… ride?” I asked, surprised.

He shrugged. “Sometimes. When I’m not too busy running an empire.”

His tone was light, almost teasing, and it caught me off guard.

He stopped in front of a stall, resting a hand on the door. “This one’s my favorite,” he said, opening it.

Inside stood a sleek black stallion, its coat shimmering in the light. The horse snorted softly, stepping forward to nuzzle Alaric’s hand.

“This is Nyx,” he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.

I reached out tentatively, and the horse’s large, dark eyes met mine. “He’s beautiful,” I said, my voice full of awe.

“He knows it,” Alaric said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

For a moment, the tension that had been weighing on me all day began to lift. There was something calming about the stables, about the quiet strength of the horses and the steadiness of Alaric’s presence.

“Why did you bring me here?” I asked, breaking the silence.

He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “Because you needed to see that there’s more to this place than what they say about you. More to you than what you think.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

I looked away, my hand brushing over Nyx’s mane. “You don’t even know me,” I said softly.

“Not yet,” he replied, his voice steady. “But I know you’re not the monster they make you out to be.”

I turned to face him, my chest tightening. “How do you know that?”

He stepped closer, his gaze locking onto mine. “Because I’ve seen monsters. Real ones. And you’re not one of them.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The intensity in his eyes was overwhelming, but it wasn’t frightening. It was grounding.

I nodded, unable to find the words to respond.

“Come on,” he said after a moment, his tone lighter. “Let’s see if you’re any good on a horse.”