Shadows Of Flames: Tales Of The Forbidden

The golden rays of the sun barely grazed the sky when Myra was awoken by the loud bang of metal against a wall.

She groaned and turned over. Every single limb of hers ached, a consequence of a night spent on the thin, straw mattress.

Barely a second later, the door slammed open and Nora walked in, hands on her hips and mouth pulled into a tight frown. “Didn't you hear the bell? Get up!"

Myra sat up wearily and disoriented, trying hard to suppress a yawn and process the woman's words. She succeeded at neither. “What bell?"

Nora's gaze sharpened to a glare. “Do I look like a joke to you? Get your bottom up or I'll let the Alpha know you're slacking!" Her voice rose an octave, furious by now.

Myra bit back a retort and stood up, fighting the urge to lay down. Her mind was fully purged of sleep when she was thrust into the bathroom to receive a splash of cold water.

After the gruesome bathing that could barely be called one, Nora handed her a black apron.

“Hurry up! I haven't got all day" she snapped, clearly impatient.

She held back her tongue from spitting out an offensive comment, and obediently tied the apron, which was weak with age and had loose threads dangling at its seams.

From the moment she stepped into the servant's hall, whispers began to circulate among the maids, earning her keen, watchful stares.

“Hey, isn't that the princess of the fallen Vespera?"

“Correction. She isn't a princess anymore. She's a maid"

“Ouch. It must really hurt to lose all those luxuries"

The whispers hurt but she schooled her expression, taking them with a pinch of salt.

Clearly set out to suffer her, Nora had ordered her to scrub all the floors of the Eastern Wing, handing her a bucket and a rag.

“What?"

“Get used to it. That's how life is around here" Nora sneered.

“What....about food?" She asked reluctantly, ashamed she had to depend on these wolves to survive.

Nora gave a short bark of laughter. “Food aren't meant for maids like you. Get to work"

Myra's fists clenched as she took in the harsh words. Denying her food was cruel, conscious of the fact she hadn't had food in days. But she swallowed her rising complaints, well aware so many eyes were gauging her expression.

She tipped her chin up. “Fine by me"

As a princess who had never had to do a single chore in her life, Myra found the task exhausting and herculean. She scrubbed the floors until her fingers ached and her back screamed for rest.

Sweat slid down her hairline and into her eyes, stinging them.

Other maids whispered and giggled as they walked past, some casting her pitying glances but no one offered help.

“Scrub harder princess-maid"

Embarrassment burned her cheeks. She wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

“For Evelyn. It's for Evelyn" she murmured, strengthening her resolve.

Her stomach growled in protest but she pretended she didn't feel it. Her fingers swelled and reddened as the hours passed by, yet she continued.

When she finally finished, she was ordered to fetch water from the well, carrying buckets heavier than she could ever imagine as she staggered down the corridors.

She paused to catch her breath and possibly a minute rest or two, only for a servant to push her and grunt, “Keep moving!"

“Tired already?" A maid taunted, smirking.

Myra bit her lips, fighting the urge to lash out and kept on walking. For Evelyn, she reminded herself.

By midday, when her stomach couldn't hold on any longer, she swallowed her pride and walked up to Nora.

“What now? Broke a nail or something?" Nora asked.

She hid her hands behind her dress and clenched them into fists as she muttered, “F...Food"

Nora perked a brow. “Maids who complain don't eat. Return to your work"

Her hands trembled and she gritted her teeth and continued, ignoring the ache in her belly.

They wanted to work her to death, that much was clear, but starve her?

“I will prove them wrong" she whispered. “I will show them I can survive without their damned food"

But it got harder with each passing second that made her head light and her stomach pound angrily.

As Myra carried fresh bedsheets down a corridor, her steps paused when she saw a young woman struggling with crutches, in a matching gown and apron and blonde hair pulled behind her ears.

The woman noticed her stare. “If you want to mock me, just say so and save yourself the time"

Myra walked forward, dropping the linens on the floor and helped her to regain balance. “I find no joy in mocking people neither do I take pleasure in others suffering" her voice was calm and steady.

Obviously startled at the action, the woman cleared her throat. “Thank you and I'm sorry for my rude tone earlier. It's just that a lot of people mock me. I'm Lily, by the way"

“Myra"

“Oh, the princess-turned-maid right?" Lily asked casually.

Myra stiffened, narrowing her eyes. “What did you just call me?"

Noticing she had stepped out of line, Lily rushed to add, “I don't mean it like that. I'm sorry if it came out that way"

Myra parted her lips but her stomach growled first. Her cheeks turned a slight shade of red, clearly showing her embarrassment at being caught.

Lily gave her a sympathetic smile. “They're pushing you hard, aren't they?"

Myra didn't respond. There was nothing to say.

Lily shook her head, muttering something under her breath before limping forward. She dug her hand into her pocket and brought out a small, bread roll. “Take it"

Myra glanced at her, puzzled. “Why are you helping me?"

Lily smiled. “Because you helped me first"

That didn't justify her action in Myra's eyes. “I don't need a reward. And I'm fine—"

Her stomach broke her sentence with a low rumble.

Lily giggled. “I think your stomach disagrees with you. Now take it"

Myra narrowed her gaze with suspicion. She couldn't trust anyone here. “What's your ulterior motive?"

Lily blinked. “Wait a minute, do you think it's poisoned?"

Her lack of response confirmed it.

Lily laughed harder. “I can never poison what I eat. I'm not really excited at the prospect of suicide. Now take it, before someone sees"

Myra hesitated. She didn't need pity or sympathy but she was really hungry.

Finally, she snatched the bread and muttered, “Thank you" before biting into the bread. She hated how her pride was crumbling, reducing her to this.

Lily beamed, her eyes sparkling. “I should be the one thanking you"

Her kind smile made Myra feel a little lighter, something she hadn't felt in days.

While the sun gradually moved lower, Myra moved onto her next chore, exhausted beyond reason but determined to push further, to show them she was tougher than she looked.

She was wiping the windows when she heard mocking laughter behind her. She turned slightly to see two stunning she-wolves dressed in silk and jeweleries , walking into view.

One, with smooth dark curls and an arrogance to match, leaned against a pillar. “Oh my" she purred. “We've finally met the fallen princess Nicole"

Nicole titled her head. “Are you sure she's the one Christine? Because she doesn't fit the description I was given"

“I'm sure Nicole. No other maid looks this pathetic"

Myra contained her work, ignoring their presence.

Nicole clicked her tongue. “Ignoring us? How rude"

Christine's mouth twisted with displeasure at her silence. “It seems Nora hasn't really taught you humility yet"

“What do you expect from a princess forced into slavery?"

Anger threatened to explode within her but she played it cool. Don't talk, don't talk, she soothed herself, willing herself to stay calm.

She picked up her cleaning tools, ready to leave, but Christine stepped in her path. “Not so fast human. We're not done talking"

Myra was pissed at this point. “Get out of my way wolf"

Christine's smile dropped. “Who do you think you're calling wolf?"

“You, of course. You are a wolf, aren't you?" Myra shot back.

A cruel look hardened Christine's eyes. “I'll show you how a wolf behaves"

Then, she took Myra by surprise by kicking the bucket of the water, spilling it onto the floor.

“What did you just do?" Myra gasped, glaring daggers at her.

Christine smiled. “Learn your place here human. You've no right to talk to me"

“How dare you? How dare—"

“Careful there" Nicole added. “Wouldn't want anyone to suffer on your behalf"

Myra balled her fists, struggling to keep her rage at bay.

They were threatening her. And the worse part was she couldn't do anything.

“Look at her. She wants to cry"

Christine glanced at her, feelings smug and cocky. “She's going to cry a lot here so she better get used to it"

Myra bit the inside of her cheek and quietly crouched to clean the floors.

“That's where you belong missy" Nicole said, smirking down at her. “On the floors"

After that painful blow, they walked away, laughing.

Her eyes clouded with tears yet not a drop fell. She wouldn't cry. Not now. Not ever.

By the time her chores were over, Myra was half dead. Her legs felt like stone as she wobbled into the garden. She barely had the strength to move, her body was drained and her spirit bruised.

The night air cooled her sweaty skin, offering relaxation to her stiff muscles.

The garden was quiet and secluded, its flowers glowing faintly under the silver moonlight, oozing out calmness and peace.

Exactly what she needed. Peace. From the hell she suffered today.

As she lowered herself onto a wooden bench, all the humiliation, anger, embarrassment she had bottled out of her, seeped out.

“That's where you belong.... On the floors"

No. She couldn't allow those words to define her. She was strong. She was.....

Her chest burned and she shut her eyes, forcing back tears.

That's when she heard a faint sound behind her.

She stiffened, her senses on alert. Had someone been watching her?

She felt the presence of someone and turned quickly, searching the darkness.

But instead of a guard or a maid, she saw a small, thin figure. A boy.

His large, frightened eyes met hers as he stepped forward hesitantly. Something about him struck her as familiar. Like she had seen him before.

Then, realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

Her wedding. She had saved him during the chaos when a wolf was hot on his trail.

“Princess Myra" he whispered.

For some reason, her throat tightened. He remembered her as well.

“Hello. Do you remember me?"

He nodded quickly. “Yes, you saved me from a wolf. Thank you"

Her throat tightened again. “I'm not worthy of your gratitude. What's your name?"

“Andrew. Andrew Harris"

“How did you get out of the dungeon Andrew?"

He leaned in and muttered, “I slipped out of there. No one noticed me"

Myra's eyes widened with alarm. “What? That's dangerous! Go back now before someone—"

“No" he interrupted, shaking his head. “Someone's waiting for you. Behind the dungeons"

Her brows furrowed. “Waiting for me? Who?"

Andrew bit his lip. “I'm not allowed to tell." He motioned for her to follow him.

Caution rang inside her, making her doubtful but curiosity pushed her up.

Myra glanced around the empty gardens before following Andrew.

He led her past the hedges and down a narrow stone path, leading to the back of the dungeon.

Then, Andrew stopped in his tracks and pointed.

She followed his gaze and froze to the spot.

It couldn't be.....

Half-hidden in the shadows was someone she never thought she'd see again.

Her voice came out on a breath. “Henry"