The door had barely clicked shut before Nanny Nia released a low, irritated growl from deep in her throat.
"She hates you," Nia muttered as she paced the edge of the room. "And I don’t care how sweet she tries to sound, or how often she wears lace and perfume to mask it—she hates you."
Jasmine sat back against her pillows, eyes closed, hands resting over the soft swell of her stomach.
"Nia," she murmured. "Please."
"I mean it," Nia continued, her boots tapping softly against the wooden floor. "You saw the way she looked around the room like she was casing the place. Like she was just waiting to find a crack. Something to poke at."
Jasmine opened her eyes slowly. "She always looks like that."
"And that’s the problem," Nia snapped. "Why is she even here? After everything, after all the whispers and the way she hovers around Erik like she’s staking her claim. What reason does she have to suddenly care how you or the baby are doing?"
"I said I don’t want to talk about it," Jasmine said, her voice firmer this time.
Nia went quiet, but her arms remained folded tightly over her chest. The silence between them was thick, laced with things unsaid.
Marie, who had remained still by the corner shelf while organizing bundles of dried herbs and talismans, finally turned toward the bed.
"Her presence reeks," she said softly, as if speaking to no one and everyone at once. "But rot always rises to the surface before it’s swept away."
"Nanny Nia has a point," she added as she walked toward Jasmine with a quiet grace. "Some wolves wear silk to disguise their claws."
"I don’t need protecting," Jasmine whispered. "Not from her. Not anymore."
Marie smiled faintly. "You don’t need protecting. But you do need truth."
Jasmine looked at her, brows faintly furrowed.
Marie slowly sat at the edge of the bed and laid a hand gently across Jasmine’s stomach. Her fingers, warm and still, seemed to pulse with something unseen—some quiet current Jasmine couldn’t name.
"The child is strong," Marie murmured, her voice changing, as if something older had taken hold of it. "Healthier than most. The heart beats clean. Steady. The soul..." Her brows twitched faintly. "The soul is... intact. Untouched by the curse."
Jasmine blinked. "What curse?"
Marie didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, she smiled and tilted her head. "Would you like to know?" she asked, eyes glowing faintly in the candlelight. "Whether the baby will shift... or remain unshifted like you?"
The room stilled.
Jasmine hesitated, then gently ran her palm over her stomach. She thought of all the nights she lay awake wondering if her child would suffer the same fears, the same isolation. If they’d cry under the moon, unable to answer the howl rising in their blood.
"I’ll accept the baby either way," she said finally, her voice soft but sure. "Shifted or not. It’s mine."
Marie nodded, the edges of her mouth curving into something close to approval. "Good. You’ll need that resolve."
She stood then and gathered her things into a pouch. "We’ll step outside for a moment. Let you rest."
Without asking, Nia followed her, shooting one last look at Jasmine before the door closed behind them.
⸻
Outside the Door
Marie leaned against the stone wall, arms folded, her gaze distant as she listened to the wind brushing past the hallway. Nia stood beside her, still tense, still bristling with quiet rage.
"She’s too calm about it," Nia muttered. "Like she doesn’t realize she’s standing in a pit of snakes."
"She realizes," Marie said. "But she’s trying not to see it."
"She’s had too many close calls lately," Nia whispered, her jaw tight. "First the tea that nearly made her collapse a moon ago. Then the strange fever. And now the saddle slipping?" She shook her head. "That wasn’t just bad luck."
Marie turned to look at her, sharp and quiet. "You think it’s all connected?"
"I know it is," Nia hissed. "She never got sick like that before Anna started hovering around. Never had dizzy spells. And that saddle—someone tampered with it, I know they did. Jasmine’s no fool on a horse."
Marie’s eyes darkened.
"I asked Erik to keep Kire close," Nia added. "But even he’s been distracted. And now with what happened."
"What exactly happened?" Marie interrupted, her voice low.
"I don’t have proof yet," Nia said. "But he was jumpy. Nervous the day Jasmine fell. I think he knew something."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The corridor was quiet, the distant sounds of horses and wind whispering through the wooden beams of the estate as Erik strode with purpose toward Nanny Nia’s quarters. His jaw was set, hands clenched by his sides. The image of Rudy’s lifeless body haunted him—eyes wide, mouth open, blood congealed beneath the boy’s nails. There was no peace to be found in the silence.
And then, as if summoned by the very worst timing, she appeared.
Nanny Nia dropped the root she had been holding. "What?"
"Fiona and I found him. His body was strung up like a suicide, but..." Erik glanced away for a moment, trying to steady his voice. "There was blood. A note by his hand. ’She knows everything.’"
Marie leaned forward. "You’re certain it wasn’t suicide?"
"No chance," Erik said. "He was scared. He knew something, and someone made sure he wouldn’t talk."
Nanny Nia’s face turned to stone. "Did Jasmine know him well?"
"He worked in the stables. Quiet. But I think he saw something. Maybe the night Jasmine fell."
Marie exchanged a glance with Nia. "This is connected. It must be."
"I buried the body," Erik admitted, running a hand through his hair. "I didn’t know who I could trust. I figured if the killer believed we hadn’t found him yet, they’d start to slip."
Nanny Nia nodded slowly. "Smart."
"I want to find out who did this," Erik said. "I want to protect Jasmine. And I think you already have suspicions."
Nanny Nia looked off toward the distant ridge, her eyes heavy. "I’ve had suspicions for weeks. Accidents piling up. Jasmine’s saddle breaking. The way the food always made her sick. The fall."
"You think she was poisoned?" Marie asked.
"Yes," Nia said grimly. "And I believe whoever’s behind it is still watching. Waiting."
Erik’s fists clenched. "Anna’s involved. I’m sure of it. I just can’t prove it yet."
Nia nodded. "Then we watch. Carefully. We don’t let Jasmine out of our sight."
Marie looked thoughtful. "She’s carrying more than just a child. If someone’s trying to eliminate her, it’s because that child poses a threat to someone."
"She doesn’t even know who to be afraid of," Erik said softly. "That’s what makes this worse."
There was a silence then—heavy and shared.
"We’ll protect her," Nanny Nia said, voice like iron. "No matter what."
Erik nodded once. "Good. Because something tells me this won’t stop until we make it stop."
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