Chapter 52

The air outside was heavy with tension, the kind that settled like a storm cloud waiting to break. Isabella's voice rose sharply, cutting through the quiet as she stood in front of Lucy. Her arms were crossed and her face was a mix of frustration and barely veiled contempt.

“You think you're special now, don't you?” Isabella sneered, stepping closer to Lucy, her tone harsh. “Just because you spent a few moments with Aiden there without any scratch? Don't think for a second that it makes you untouchable. I know all about you, Lucy. About how you faint, how you're too weak to handle even the simplest tasks.”

Lucy flinched, keeping her gaze low. Isabella's words stung but she didn't dare respond.

“I should put you back in the laundry room,” Isabella continued, her voice dropping with contempt. “You remember what it was like, don't you? Long hours, the heat, the endless piles of clothes. Maybe that would remind you where you belong.”

Lucy's hands trembled at her sides, but clenched them into fists, trying to steady herself. Why does she even hate me so much? What have I done? I never did hate her for once, her attitude towards me only made me dislike her. She looked up and around, hoping someone might come to her aid but the corridor remained silent. And Aiden… he's the only one who sees me differently.

Isabella leaned in, her voice dropping but losing not of its intensity. “You think I don't notice the way you falter? How do you hide behind those dowle eyes and fragile smiles? If you keep this up, Lucy, you'll find yourself collapsing under the weight of your own incompetence.”

Before Lucy could respond, the hall doors creaked open behind her. Aiden stepped out, his tall figure casting a long, blur shadow in the dimly light. His expression was unreadable, but the sharpness in his gaze was enough to silence Isabella mid-sentence.

Aiden didn't speak immediately. He stood there, his hands tucked into his pockets, his glowing eyes moving between Isabella and Lucy. His presence alone was enough to make the air feel heavier.

“Isabella,” Aiden said, his voice calm but carrying an edge that made both women tense. “Would it be appropriate if other maids saw you standing here, breathing Lucy like this?”

Isabella blinked, her confidence faltering. She opened her mouth to argue but thought better of it. Why is he defending her? He's never interfered in matters like this before. She straightened her posture, smoothing her apron as if to regain some composure. “I wasn't… I was just reminding her of her responsibilities,” she said, though her voice lacked its usual conviction.

Aiden tilted his head slightly, his gaze piercing. “It didn't sound like that to me.”

Lucy felt her heart race as Aiden's words hung in the air. He heard everything… he was listening. Why does that make me feel… safe? He must have heard about me always feeling tired and fainting, right? She stole a glance at him, her cheeks warming under his scrutiny. He looks so calm, so unbothered. But why does it feel like he's protecting me without saying much at all?

Isabella exhaled sharply, realizing she was losing around. She reached out and grabbed Lucy by the arm, her grip from but not painful. “Come on,” she said briskly, avoiding Aiden's gaze. “Let's get back to work.”

Lucy allowed herself to be led away, though there was nothing she could have done since she was her mistress. Yet, her mind was spinning. He could've ignored it. He could've let Isabella continue but he didn't. He spoke for me. Why would he do that?

As they walked down the corridor, Isabella's thoughts churned. What is it about her? What does he care? He's ruthless with everyone else. Is she manipulating him somehow? Or… is it something more?

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The dim glow of the single candle in Isabella's room cast long shadows across the wooden walls. Isabella stepped inside, her boots clicking against the floor as she closed the door firmly behind her. Lucy followed hesitantly, her hands clasped in front of her, her gaze fixed on the floor.

The sound of the lock turning made Lucy flinch slightly. Isabella leaned against the door, arms crossed, her eyes narrowing as she studied Lucy in the flickering light.

“Alright,” Isabella began, her tone sharp and demanding. “Tell me. What really happened in the hall with Aiden?”

Lucy hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt the weight of Isabella's stare, the silence stretching between them like a taut string. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“Don't just stand there!” Isabella snapped, pushing herself off the door. “You've been acting strange ever since you left that hall. What did he do? What did he say to you?”

Lucy shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. “Nothing. He didn't do anything.”

“Don't lie to me, Lucy!” Isabella's voice rose, her frustration evident. She paced the small room, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke. “You expect me to believe that Aiden, the most ruthless Prince Aiden this pack and other pack has ever seen just sat there and had a casual chat with you? You? A lowly maid?”

Lucy's cheeks burned at the words, but she didn't respond. She bit her lip, trying to keep her emotions in check. Why does she care about knowing what happened back at the hall? What does it matter to her if she even knew Aiden was my mate?

Isabella stopped pacing and turned to face Lucy, her eyes narrowing further. “He's planning something, isn't he? That's why you won't talk. What did he say to you? What did he want from you?”

Lucy remained silent, her hands trembling slightly. She didn't want to reveal any answers nor anything that did happen between her and Aiden back inside the hall.

“Fine,” Isabella said after a long moment, her voice losing some of its edge. She sat down on the edge of her bed, her posture slumping. “You don't trust me. I get it. But I'm trying to help you, Lucy. Don't you see that?”

Lucy blinked, surprised by the sudden change in Isabella's tone. It was softer now, almost pleading. She glanced up hesitantly, meeting Isabella's gaze for the first time.

“I just… I need to know,” Isabella continued, her voice quieter. “If something's going on between you two, if he's trying to use you, I need to know. I can't protect you if you won't tell me the truth.”

Lucy hesitated for a moment longer before taking a deep breath. “There's nothing going on,” she said softly, her voice steady but low. He… he asked me about myself. That's all.”

Isabella's eyes narrowed again. “About yourself? What does that even mean? What could someone like him possibly want to know about you?”

Lucy shifted uncomfortably under Isabella's scrutiny. “He asked where I was from, how long I've been in the pack,” she said carefully. “He asked if I'd ever been outside the borders. It was just… questions. Nothing more.”

Isabella's gaze bore into her, searching for any hint of deception. “And you expect me to believe that? That Aiden, of all people, just wanted to have a little chat about your life story?”

Lucy nodded, though her heart raced at the disbelief in Isabella's voice. “That's the truth,” she insisted.

Isabella leaned back slightly, her expression unreadable. She's hiding something. I can feel it. But what could it be? She shook her head, legging out a frustrated sigh. “You're not telling me everything.” She muttered.

“I am,” Lucy said, her voice firmer this time. She looked down, her fingers twisting the fabric of her dress. Why won't she believe me? Why does it matter so much to her what happened between us?

Isabella stood abruptly, the sharpness returning to her tone. “Fine… you think you know him, don't you?” Isabella said, her voice low but cutting. “You think because he spared you in that hall that he's different—better than the stories we've all heard?”

Lucy didn't respond, her eyes fixed on her hands.

“You need to understand something, Lucy,” Isabella continued, stepping closer. “Aiden doesn't spare people. He doesn't have compassion. And I've seen it with my own eyes.”

Lucy glanced up, curiosity flickering in her gaze despite herself.

Isabella leaned forward, placing her hands flat on the table. “Let me tell you something. Something that happened a few years ago. I watched it. I saw everything.”