Page 68 of Crowned In Venom

"She has been in a mood today."

"Did you see the girl from the kitchens? Gone. Just like that."

"I heard she skinned a man alive last week."

"I heard she doesn’t even need a blade anymore."

"It’s the human girl, isn’t it? He’s keeping her too long."

My pulse tightens.

I press my back against a column, blending into the shadows as I listen.

The voices belong to two older women—palace attendants, their hands dusted with flour, their aprons speckled with dried wine.

They shouldn’t be talking about this.

But fear loosens tongues as much as wine.

"She doesn’t like it when they linger," one mutters, glancing over her shoulder.

"He never keeps them this long," the other whispers back.

A slow, creeping dread wraps around my spine.

They mean me.

I am the one who has lingered.

And the Matriarch does not allow that.

I turn to leave—but a hand grips my wrist.

My body tenses on instinct.

I nearly twist out of the grip before I recognize the face.

Mira.

One of the younger maids, barely older than me, her round face drawn in tight worry.

She shouldn’t be here.

And she definitely shouldn’t be looking at me.

But she is.

And there is fear in her eyes.

"You need to be careful," she whispers.

Her fingers dig into my wrist, not in malice, but urgency.

I don’t pull away.

I don’t let her see the pulse hammering beneath my skin.

"Careful of what?" I murmur.

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