As I walked past, I saw her standing before the mirror, turning in the dress. It didn’t fit her. The fabric pulled and folded in the wrong places.

She picked up a pair of scissors.

Without hesitation, she cut through the most detailed part of the hem, where the crystals were sewn.

"This design is outdated. It looks better this way," she said, pouting slightly.

The servant beside her glanced at me, uneasy, but said nothing.

I didn’t stop. I walked straight to the kitchen.

Damon had drunk a lot the night before. His body was not strong.

After drinking, his stomach would always hurt. He needed a special herbal soup to recover.

For seven winters, I had made it for him myself. I stood by the stove, watching the soup boil slowly in the clay pot.

But this would be the last time.

I poured the soup into a flask, placed it on a tray, and carried it toward his study.

The door was not fully closed. Voices came from inside.

It was Damon and his friend, Zyon.

I lifted my hand to knock, but stopped when I heard Zyon speak.

"Damon, don’t you think you went too far this time? You took back the Luna ring, gave away her necklace, and now even her gown is gone. Rayya stayed with you for seven winters. She would have died for you. Are you really trying to drive her away?"

My hand froze in the air.

I didn’t move.

Damon’s voice followed, cold and distant.

"Where can she go? She has no past, no family. Without the Redclaw Pack, she has nothing."

"I have given her too much these past winters. She has forgotten her place. Marisel has returned. Rayya needs to learn her role."

"I will take away her pride. Make her understand who holds power here. Once she accepts it and behaves, I will let her stay. She will have food and a place to live. That should be enough."

Zyon let out a quiet breath.

"If you keep treating her like this, aren’t you afraid she will truly leave you?"

Damon gave a low laugh.

"Leave? Rayya only knows how to stay by my side. She cannot live without me."

The tray in my hands tilted slightly. A few drops of hot soup spilled over and landed on my skin. The heat burned, turning it red at once.

But I felt nothing.

I looked at the door in front of me. Then I placed the tray quietly on the table outside.

I picked up the insulated flask and walked to the end of the hallway.