The Princess's Revenge Chapter 80

Valencia’s POV

I knocked on Echo's door, but there was no response. She must be cleaning Logan's room already. I walked deeper down the corridor, my silk dress swishing with each step.

Logan's door was open. I walked in and found Echo on her knees, scrubbing the wooden bathtub with a wet rag. Her short hair fell forward as she worked.

"Echo!" I said happily. "Good morning!"

She turned around, and her eyes went straight to my dress. Just one quick glance at the blue silk, then she dropped her head so fast I thought she might hurt her neck.

"Echo?" My stomach dropped. This wasn't the reaction I wanted. I hurried over and grabbed her arm, trying to pull her up. "Please, stand up."

She stayed on her knees, trembling.

"Echo, it's me. Valencia." I kept my voice gentle. "Look at me. Please."

She lifted her head slowly. Her eyes were huge with shock as they traveled over the silk dress again.

"Lady Valencia," she whispered.

"No!" The word came out sharper than I meant. "Not Lady Valencia. Just Valencia. Your friend."

"But... but you're wearing..." She couldn't finish the sentence.

"Don't worry about the dress," I said quickly. "It's just fabric."

"Just fabric?" Her voice cracked. "That's silk. Real silk. And that ring..." She stared at the gold and sapphire on my finger. "Are you... are you going to be Luna?"

My mouth fell open. "How did you know that?"

She ducked her head again, speaking to the floor. "Everyone's talking about it. The servants, the guards. They're all saying Alpha Logan is announcing his Luna tonight."

"Already?" I was amazed at how fast news traveled in this castle. "Well... yes. It's true."

Her head dropped even lower. Her shoulders hunched like she was trying to make herself smaller.

"Echo, stop this." I knelt down beside her, not caring about the dress.

"You're going to be Luna," she whispered.

"So? I'm still me. Still the same person who was grinding herbs with Delphine yesterday. Still the same person who promised to help Maya."

At Maya's name, her head snapped up. Tears gathered in her eyes.

"Speaking of which," I said, "that's why I'm here. I need your help with makeup for tonight. And we need to talk about Maya."

The tears spilled over. "I went to see her last night. Snuck down to her room on the second floor after everyone was asleep."

"How is she?"

"Worse." Echo's voice broke. "So much worse. Her hands are raw from the lye. Some of her hair has fallen out from the fumes. She can barely stand anymore."

My chest tightened painfully. "What did she say?"

"I told her about you. That you promised to help." Echo wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "She cried. She said thank you over and over. She wanted me to tell you how grateful she is."

"She doesn't need to be grateful," I said fiercely. "I'm getting her out of there today. I swear it."

I stood up and started pulling at the laces of the bliaut.

"What are you doing?" Echo asked, confused.

"Work," I said simply, finally getting the dress off. I hung it carefully on the chair, then picked up her cleaning rag.

Echo jumped to her feet. "No! Valencia, you can't!"

"Watch me." I knelt by the bathtub and started scrubbing.

"Please, this is my job!" She tried to grab the rag from my hands. "You're going to be Luna! You can't be cleaning!"

I held the rag out of her reach. "I'm not helping you. I'm helping Maya. The faster we finish here, the sooner we can go save her."

Echo's face crumpled. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

"No crying," I said, trying to sound stern but probably failing. "Save the tears for when Maya is safe. Then you can cry all you want."

She nodded, grabbing another rag. We worked side by side, her tears dropping onto the floor as she scrubbed. I felt my own eyes burning.

Twenty minutes later, the room was finally clean. The familiar exhaustion washed over me. My stomach growled loudly, breaking the silence.

Echo obviously heard it. She smiled and pointed at the table. "That's breakfast for you and Alpha Logan. You should eat."

I walked to the table. Fresh bread, still warm from the ovens. A wedge of hard cheese. Some dried meat that looked like venison. A small pot of honey and two apples. The smell made me swallow hard.

"Come eat with me," I said.

"No!" She looked horrified. "I already ate. And I can't eat the Alpha's food."

Her stomach growled. Loud. We both heard it.

We stared at each other. I couldn't help but laugh. "Right. You already ate."

I grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the table. "Come on."

"Valencia, I can't—"

"Logan won't come back here for breakfast," I said. "He has other things to handle today."

She still hesitated, looking at the food like it might bite her.

"Fine." I sighed. "I really don't want to say this, but as your future Luna, I'm ordering you to eat this food."

Her eyes went wide. She looked at me, then at the food, then back at me. Carefully, like she was afraid the bread might explode, she picked up a piece.

I smiled and started eating too. The bread was good. The cheese was sharp, the meat salty.

"How's the pack doing?" I asked between bites. "What are people saying?"

Echo relaxed a little as we ate. "Everyone's scared about food. But they trust the Alpha." She paused, tearing off another piece of bread. "Oh, and Freya told me something strange this morning."

"Freya?"

"She cleans Gamma Amara's room. She said Amara hasn't been in the pack house since last night."

I stopped chewing. "What?"

"Freya went to bring her dinner last night. She wasn't there. Then this morning, when Freya went to clean, still no Amara."

Echo leaned closer, lowering her voice even though we were alone. "Freya was worried. You know, with Gamma Xander dead, she thought maybe Amara might... hurt herself. So she used the spare key to check the room."

"The room was destroyed. Like someone had thrown everything around. Clothes everywhere, furniture knocked over." she continued.

My heart sank. This wasn't good. Amara missing, her room destroyed... I had a terrible feeling about this.

"When did Freya tell you this?"

"Just this morning when I ran into her in the corridor."

We finished eating in silence. My mind was racing. Amara knew about the assassination. She knew Logan was protecting her from Elton. If she'd gone to him... That was terrible.

I looked at the blue bliaut hanging on the chair. The silk seemed to glow in the morning light. Part of me wanted to leave it there. It felt wrong, like wearing a costume. But maybe it would help.

I put it back on, struggling with the laces. Echo helped, her fingers quick.

"I can't wear my weapon belt with this," I muttered, frustrated.

I walked to the corner where my old chemise lay in a pile. I'd hidden the sling and paralysis darts in the pocket. Just in case. I pulled them out and looked around for somewhere to hide them in the silk dress.

"Here," Echo said, understanding immediately. She took the darts and tucked them into the inside of my sleeve, securing them with a piece of ribbon she pulled from her own hair. "They won't fall out, but you can reach them if you need to."

"Thank you."

We gathered the breakfast plates and put them on the tray. Echo picked up her cleaning supplies from the floor.

"Let me help," I said, reaching for the bucket.

"No. You're wearing silk. You can't carry a dirty bucket."

She was right, but it felt wrong watching her struggle with everything.

We went to her room next door. She put away the cleaning supplies quickly, organized despite the tiny space. Then we headed downstairs.

The castle was busier now. Servants were everywhere, preparing for tonight. They all stopped and stared when they saw me in the blue silk. Some bowed. Others just looked confused.

"Ignore them," I whispered to Echo, but my face was burning.

We reached the storage room on the first floor. The door was new, probably just installed yesterday. Inside, the damage from the fire was still obvious. The stone walls were blackened with soot. The ceiling beams were charred, some cracked and reinforced with temporary wooden supports. The air still smelled like smoke and burnt grain.

"This way," Echo said, leading me to the back corner.

Behind what used to be a massive grain barrel, there was a narrow stone staircase. The entrance was low, forcing us to duck.

"Careful," Echo warned. "The steps are worn smooth. Easy to slip."

She was right. The stone steps were ancient, dipped in the middle from centuries of use. Water dripped from somewhere above, making everything slick. I had to hold the wall for balance, and my hand came away covered in black soot.

We descended into darkness. The torch at the top of the stairs barely reached down here. The smell hit me immediately. Lye. Animal fat. Smoke. It got stronger with each step.

The basement was even darker than I expected. Only a few torches lined the narrow corridor. The ceiling was so low I could almost touch it. Water pooled in places on the uneven floor.

"This way," Echo said, her voice tight.