The Lycan King's Puppet

Claire blinked.

She could hear the servants scrambling to get closer so they could hear what was being said.

"I never said you were." Was all she managed to utter.

Garelle tilted her head.

"I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just want you to know that I’m not your enemy."

Claire gulped, her face heating up.

"Thank you for such kind words, I suppose."

Garelle’s brows drew together but she said no more.

Aurora was watching them now, her eyes bright and expectant.

"I’ll help you with the cake."

A slow smile curved the other woman’s lips as she gestured for the bakers to come closer.

Claire rolled up her sleeves and got to work, enjoying the little power she had as she dished out instructions to the bakers.

Part of her did it because she loved cakes, the other part did it because she wanted to show Garelle that she was capable - more capable, even if it was just in commanding a kitchen.

A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead as Garelle plopped a piece of the cake into her mouth.

Claire’s hands couldn’t stay still.

Then, Garelle closed her eyes and sighed, a deep, almost dreamy sound.

"This is... good. This is what I want." Her eyes slid open with excitement. "This is the best piece of cake I’ve had in my one and twenty years of existence."

Claire’s lips twitched as a smile threatened to break through her mask of calm indifference.

Garelle snatched up the entire tray and started walking away with it.

"I should let Eliza and my mother have a taste of this... and the King, if he isn’t busy."

The whole mood fell at the mention of him.

At the door, Garelle glanced over her shoulder with bright eyes.

"Thank you, Claire."

Claire said nothing.

What could she say?

Rory slipped her hand into hers and looked up into her face.

She wanted to pull her hand away and glare at her, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

"Let’s go to the river as you suggested."

At the back entrance for servants, many dressmakers were rushing in with chests of garments.

Both girls had to stand aside as the party rushed through.

A guard stopped them.

"State your purpose."

One of them, the one at the lead, stepped forward.

"We bring dresses for the King’s bride-to-be at the King’s orders."

Dresses for Lady Plumette? Her stomach flipped.

She couldn’t even remember the last time he had sent a dress to her.

Of course, he now has new priorities.

Her grip on her sister’s hand tightened.

All through the walk to the river, she was silent.

Rory tried bringing up conversations countless times, but her silence killed them before they could spiral.

"If I didn’t know you better, I would say you’re in love with him." Aurora said with a very heavy sigh.

The little remark got Claire’s full attention.

In love with him?

Was this love?

If it was, then she wanted no part in it.

She imagined him dressed in black, staring into Garelle’s eyes with so much love, smiling even.

"What makes you say that, Rory?"

"You hate him... yet you’re so disturbed by his wedding. Is there something you’re not telling me?"

Claire blinked, staring ahead.

"I still hate him, that hasn’t changed."

Rory gave a little humph of disbelief.

The river loomed ahead of them, blue at the center, green-ish at the river banks.

Mosses covered the large stones that lined the banks. Water lilies floated around the surface, bouncing against the bank and rebounding further into the water. The sky was blue above them, the sun covered by a garment of clouds.

"Do you like it?"

Claire nodded, her mouth hanging open.

"How did you find this place?"

"Maria mentioned it. She showed it to me through the window."

Of course she did. Claire rolled her eyes.

She sat on one of the stones and watched Aurora dip into the water just to collect lilies for her.

Her sister looked happy and unbothered, like she used to before the incident. She wondered if Rory still had those dreams she once complained about.

But somehow, her mind circled back to the same thing it had been focused on since morning.

Him.

She remembered the night they spent together - the only time she had ever seen a glimpse of him with his guard down.

And she had been foolish enough to think he cared about her.

How very foolish of her.

Seeing them together everyday would send her to an early grave, a wicked voice in her head said.

Water splashed heavily on her. She recoiled as the water slapped her across the face.

When she opened her eyes, Rory was in the water, grinning like an idiot.

Claire didn’t back down from the challenge.

She rose up from her perch on the green stone.

That’s when she noticed it. The pinky of her left hand had sprouted something that looked oddly like a claw. It was sharp, pointed and capable of inflicting bodily damage.

"Don’t tell me you’re afraid of water now." Rory teased, doing a little dance that made the water ripple.

It washed over Claire’s feet.

But her whole attention was focused on the claw that appeared from nowhere.

What was going on?

She tried breaking it off, but to no avail.

Noticing her discomfort, Aurora inched closer, her movements cautious as if she suspected Claire of trying to trick her.

Claire covered it with her good hand and plastered a smile on her face.

"What was that?" Rory had already caught a glimpse of the black thing on her hand as it seemed.

"Nothing... I don’t know."

Rory pried her hand away and gave it a scrutinizing assessment.

"Do you know what this is?"

Claire gulped, unwilling to admit that she was thinking the very same thing.

"This is a claw, Claire. Why do you have a claw?"

Hearing Aurora confirm her thoughts made it feel real.

She wasn’t hallucinating.

But what in the world did it mean?