He basically looked through her as he spoke and told King Jared to do whatever he wanted.
Like she wasn’t even there.
Like her words, her feelings, her presence didn’t matter at all.
The more she thought about it, the more pissed she was. Her teeth clenched, and heat began to rise from her chest all the way to her cheeks. Her nails pressed hard into her palms as she balled her fists together, arms trembling by her sides. Her eyes, wide at first in disbelief, quickly clouded in anger. A slow, boiling rage that settled deep in her gut.
She had never felt so humiliated.
Xeera, her maid who stood beside her, didn’t care to utter a single word. She remained perfectly still by the door, hands folded tightly in front of her. Not even a glance in Harriet’s direction. She had been there. So had the other maids. They had all seen the moment Zyren dismissed her as though she were less than a stray dog beneath his feet.
And Xeera... she was more than clear on what the humiliation meant to Harriet, her mistress.
She had served her long enough to read the shifts in her breathing, the way her chest rose and fell in sharp little bursts when she was trying not to scream.
A long echo of silence passed between them, so sharp and heavy it seemed to crush the air in the room. Time ticked on, slow and unbearable.
And then, finally—Xeera could no longer take it. Her lips parted, dry, uncertain, but the words forced their way out, dragging with them a weight she knew she could never take back.
"I... I can have her poisoned for good."
Her voice was so low it might as well have been nothing more than the whistling of the wind. So faint, it could’ve been mistaken for a breeze seeping through the cracks of the wall.
Still—Harriet’s head snapped up in shock.
She had heard her. Heard every word with a clarity that made her question if Xeera hadn’t whispered the words directly into her ear.
A stunned expression froze on her face as she stared at her maid, searching for some sign that it had been a mistake. That she had misheard her. But there was none.
Xeera didn’t back down. Her face didn’t flinch, though her fingers trembled slightly where they hung at her sides.
Instead, she squared her shoulders, lifting her chin with deliberate defiance as she opened her mouth again.
"It would be a simple matter. She orders snacks from the kitchen, and the staffs would get the blame," Xeera said, her tone firmer now, eyes narrowing.
There was a strange, unsettling darkness in her gaze— was something she had not only considered before but accepted. As if, to her, the idea of poisoning a girl like Aria wasn’t out of line. It was simply a task. An obstacle to be removed.
"I wouldn’t bring it up if I wasn’t confident of being able to escape without getting caught," she continued, this time her voice carrying a thread of deadly calm. Her eyes, still locked on Harriet’s, brimmed with that same confidence. A certainty that made Harriet’s skin prickle.
And somehow... she didn’t doubt her. Not for a second.
But could she take the risk?
She was well aware—painfully so—that if Xeera acted, by morning, Aria, her main problem, would be dead.
But if Xeera made a mistake...
With the care Zyren had shown for her—how he’d killed two top healers on mere suspicion alone—killing Xeera and Harriet herself would be the least of what he would do.
’Can I put my family in danger like that?’ she wondered, the weight of it settling like a stone on her shoulders.
Even as she vigorously shook her head, trying to chase away the thought, she knew she couldn’t ignore it. She went ahead and gave Xeera the response she thought would end the conversation.
"I can kill her myself. There’s no need to dirty your hand," Harriet sighed, trying to smooth out the emotion on her face, forcing it into something composed. Controlled. Her breathing evened. Her lips set in a firmer line.
Her expression much better now, even as her mind raced. Because she realized something: there was no path Aria could take that wouldn’t end with her dead.
But she had only just spoken when Xeera’s response hit her like a whip across the skin.
A single look. Firm. Unwavering. And the words followed quickly, straight to the bone.
"You might not know this, but there have been rumors that Aira is being taught how to fight. Nothing substantial, but right after breakfast, she leaves her room and doesn’t return for a long time."
This time around, Harriet couldn’t even remain sitting. Her body moved before her mind caught up, feet hitting the ground as she stood.
Especially when she realized it wasn’t something that couldn’t be done.
"...She’s poisoned! Her face shows it, and the men Zyren killed—they were top healers!" Harriet pointed out, her voice sharper now, her words tumbling out fast.
But Xeera? She simply shrugged. A casual lift of her shoulders, as though none of it mattered.
"...Think about it, my lady! Do you really think Zyren would allow you to kill his favorite pet?" Xeera asked, her voice tight, seething. Her eyes flashed.
Even she couldn’t understand why it had taken them this long to consider such an angle.
Harriet was barely able to hold herself together. Her eyes flicked to the floor, then to the door, then back to Xeera.
Xeera was barely done talking when Harriet shook her head, her thoughts spiraling.
’Of course not. There was no way he would do that.’
’He’s more than willing to see her die?’
That was the only answer that made sense.
Harriet had instantly rejected Xeera’s proposition to poison Aira—but now, again, as she began to pace around the room, her steps uneven, her thoughts swirling, she couldn’t help but consider it again.
The words slammed into her chest.
She was the sole breadwinner of her family. If anything happened to her, they wouldn’t survive.
Not with a dying father. Not with a weak mother.
They wouldn’t fare any better.
The harder she thought, the wilder her thoughts became. Her footsteps picked up speed. Her hands twitched at her sides.
Xeera watched her with a calm, unreadable expression. Then, slowly, deliberately, she stepped closer. Her voice dropped to a deeper, lower register.
"She could be dead before midnight."
There was no hesitation in her voice. No crack of uncertainty. She had done this before—for one of the mistresses she’d served before Harriet.
And the silence that followed her words was harsh. Cold.
Harriet stared into Xeera’s calm eyes.
And then, after what felt like forever, she gave the answer she needed to give.
"Wait! The werewolves are still around. Wait until they’ve left!"
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it rang with decision.
Then, turning without another word, she settled back on the bed, her skirts brushing softly against the cushions.
Xeera’s face twitched slightly, clearly disappointed in the decision. Her mouth opened to speak—
But Harriet raised a hand.
"In the meantime, prepare a carriage. I’ll be visiting my family today," she added coolly.
Xeera bowed her head instantly, turning to leave.
She didn’t speak again. She didn’t need to.
Harriet remained where she sat, watching her go.
Unlike Aria, she would have no problems leaving.
Unlike what she previously thought.
’She has no relation to me,’ he said.
Harriet thought to herself as the memory of Zyren’s words returned, burning like acid behind her ribs.
And yet... she shoved it to the back of her mind.
’If that’s true, then there’s no reason why I should remain in this castle acting like I do,’ she told herself.
A killing look flashed in her eyes—sharp, cold, and merciless.
One that showed the level of her propensity for violence.
And just how much she wanted—no, needed—nothing more than to kill Aria at that very moment.