CHAPTER 562: DREAMING TO BE A ROYAL

The corridor was silent save for the servants’ sharp intake of breath.

Their faces blanched, their smiles gone. One girl nearly dropped the tray of food she carried, her hands trembling so violently the cutlery rattled.

They all stared at Jasmine as if her very presence unsettled the air.

"Y-your majesty..." one of them finally stammered, bowing her head so low her hair fell across her face. The others followed suit, hurriedly curtsying in unison. "Forgive us, Your Majesty."

Jasmine blinked in confusion, frozen where she stood. Your Majesty?

"I’m....." She started, only to falter as their frightened gazes clung to her. "You... you must be mistaken. I’m not... a member of the royal family."

The girls all looked at each other, confusion written on their faces and looked back at her as though she was the one insane.

"It’s your hair," another servant whispered, clutching the jug of steaming water to her chest as though it were a shield. "The red. Only the royal family..." She cut herself off as if realizing she’d said too much.

Jasmine’s fingers unconsciously brushed a strand of her copper-red hair that had slipped forward.

The memory of Hildegard’s words pressed at the back of her mind, the unspoken truth she was beginning to stitch together. Only members of the royal family have red hair.

This was getting out of hand.

Did she have to explain to everyone that she wasn’t a member of the royal family?

Her breath caught.

Still, she forced a weak laugh. "No. No, you’re wrong. I’m not royal," she insisted. "I’m unshifted. This....." She plucked the red strand between her fingers. "is nothing but an abnormality. A mistake of the moon."

The servants exchanged uneasy looks, but none of them seemed convinced. Their eyes lingered on her hair as if it betrayed every word she spoke.

"I’m an unshifted wolf." She explained uneasily. "The red hair is part of my abnormalities of being unable to shift."

She hated mentioning the fact that she was an unshifted.

They were going to look at her with scorn and disgust now.

One of the younger girls, barely past adolescence, whispered, "But... you carry it. The mark. It cannot be coincidence..."

The eldest among them hissed and grabbed her by the wrist, silencing her.

Then, with a nervous curtsy, she stepped forward. "Your... my lady, forgive us. We should not have spoken. Please..." Her voice lowered to a desperate whisper. "Do not tell the Queen what we said. To call someone Majesty who is not of royal blood, it is treason. They could have our heads for it."

Jasmine’s heart twisted at their fear.

She lifted her hand gently, trying to soothe them. "No, no. I won’t tell anyone. You have nothing to fear from me."

Relief swept across their faces, though it did little to soften the unease in their eyes.

Quickly, as though eager to bury the mistake under routine, the two girls with the tray carried it to the table near the balcony, laying out dishes of roasted meat, fresh bread, and steaming vegetables.

Another two hurried into the adjoining bath chamber, where the sound of pouring water and steam soon drifted out.

Their movements were quick, careful, as if every second they lingered near Jasmine stretched their nerves thin.

Jasmine stood in the middle of the room, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, pretending not to notice how they refused to meet her eyes anymore.

At last, the eldest servant returned from the bath chamber. She bowed again, keeping her face low. "Your... my lady, your bath is prepared. Everything is as you need."

Jasmine’s voice softened. "Thank you. Truly."

They all nodded, their curtsies shallow this time, as though afraid that another word might slip from their lips and betray them again.

One by one they filed out, their footsteps light and hurried, until the door shut quietly behind them.

The room was silent again.

Jasmine exhaled slowly, sinking into the feather soft bed once more.

Her hand lifted to her hair, fiery in the glow of the moonlight. The words of the servants echoed in her mind.

Only the royal family...

She swallowed hard, her pulse drumming in her ears. "It’s just an abnormality," she whispered to herself, though even she no longer believed it.

She slowly got up from the bed and strolled to the balcony where the moonlight spilled in. Her mind whirled with the words she had just heard, but she forced herself to push them away.

She could feel the warmth of the bathwater drifting in from the adjoining chamber, beckoning her.

Her limbs felt heavy as she crossed the room. She pushed the door open and stepped into the bath chamber.

It was beautiful. Steam swirled like soft veils in the air, carrying the faint fragrance of lavender and rosemary.

The tub, carved of polished stone, gleamed with the sheen of hot water. The servants had laid out oils, clean towels, and a silk robe. For a moment, Jasmine simply stood there, drinking it all in.

She had never known such luxury.

Even with Xaden,

Her fingers trembled as she undid the ties of her dress. The fabric slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet. She hesitated, staring at her reflection in the water.

The candlelight caught the red strands of her hair, making them shimmer like fire across the surface. Her chest tightened.

Your majesty.

The words refused to fade.

Shaking her head, she stepped into the tub. The water embraced her instantly, hot and soothing.

She sank slowly until it covered her shoulders, her head tipping back with a sigh she hadn’t realized she was holding.

The warmth seeped into her bones, melting away the aches from the long day.

But the peace didn’t last.

Her eyes closed, and with the darkness came memory.

How cold life had been.

Lonely.

She had lived a sheltered one.

Never in her life did she think she would be in one of the royal bedroom, lying in a hot bath.

Her future had been bleak for a very long time and now something meaningful was happening.

Her throat tightened, her nails biting into her palms beneath the water.

Why her hair? Why now?

She opened her eyes again and found herself staring at the ceiling, steam curling against the stone carvings there. "It’s just an abnormality," she whispered again, but her voice cracked. "It has to be."

Still, deep inside, a tiny spark whispered otherwise. A spark she couldn’t silence.

Her gaze drifted back to the reflection of her hair in the water. She thought of what Hildegard had said, what Otto had said.

She thought of the servants bowing and calling her a title she had never dared to imagine.

A part of her wanted to laugh at the absurdity. Another part... was terrified.

She submerged herself fully beneath the water, as though drowning the thought, drowning the hair, drowning the fire that set her apart.

For a moment, the world above disappeared. There was only silence, weight, and warmth pressing down on her.

When she surfaced, gasping softly, her wet hair clung to her cheeks like rivulets of flame.

She stared at herself, at the girl with scarred skin and red hair who was supposed to be nothing but a bastard child.

Yet here, in this palace, in this bath carved for royals, even the servants mistook her for something greater.

Her hand shook as she touched her reflection in the water.

"Who am I, really?" she whispered.

The steam swallowed her words whole.

Jasmine leaned back against the edge of the tub, closing her eyes.

The water cradled her, but her thoughts refused to settle. She was no closer to peace. Only deeper into questions she had no answers for.

She imagined she was the Queen’s daughter or better still her granddaughter that she had newly found.

She had seen how much the Queen loved her new grand daughter.

She imagined someone loving her that same way.

She longed for it.

She sat up and began to wash her body.

She cleaned off the dirt of the journey and felt her bones very slowly begin to heal from exhaustion.

Eventually, once she felt she was squeaky clean she gently hit up from the bath tub.

She placed her toe on the marble floor and walked to where the towels had been lined up.

She looked at the silk robe.

She wasn’t used to it.

So she stayed with the towel and gently patted her wet hair.

She stepped out of the bathroom and when she walked to the center of the bedroom, she found none other than Xaden standing by the large mahogany doors.

"Xaden." She said as she jumped in fright.

In that moment of fear, she let go of the towel she had been so holding fervently to her chest.

And then it dropped to the floor, hanging at her ankles.

She stood completely naked in front of Xaden.