Chapter 538 GOODBYE
The night was quiet, a heavy stillness cloaking the darkened halls of the packhouse.
Uther paced impatiently in his chamber until the mirror on the far wall shimmered faintly, glowing with the silver light of summoned magic. He straightened, forcing composure, though his stomach twisted.
Cherry stepped through the enchanted reflection, her crimson gown brushing the floor like flowing blood. She carried herself with an ease that made Uther’s throat tighten…this was a woman who never feared, who never doubted.
“You called me, my lady,” Uther said with a shallow bow.
Cherry’s lips curved into something close to a smile, though it never reached her eyes. “Indeed. I thought it fitting to remind you of your place… and of mine.”
He shifted uneasily. “What is it you require of me?”
Cherry circled the room slowly, trailing her fingers along the polished wood. “I have found a permanent solution to our little problem. Jasmine is no longer the concern she once was. Someone has already stepped into her place. Someone who carries more use to me than that fragile girl ever could.”
Uther frowned. “Someone has taken her place?”
Cherry’s gaze snapped back to him, sharp and glittering. “Yes. And the court has accepted her.” She leaned closer, her perfume suffocating. “The Queen smiles again. That is what matters.”
He dared not press further, though his curiosity gnawed at him. “And Jasmine? Will she still come to the castle?”
“Yes,” Cherry replied, her voice silken and dangerous. “She will arrive, but her role will be different. A ghost does not need a throne. All I require from you is obedience.”
Relief flickered across Uther’s face. “And my task?”
“You remain here.” Her tone hardened, leaving no room for question. “You will not accompany her to the castle. You will stay in this pack and watch. Be my eyes. Be my ears. And most importantly….be silent.”
Uther swallowed, but desperation rose in his chest. “I have done all you asked. I have risked everything. If I remain here, will you help me gain this pack? I deserve it. I have earned it.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Cherry stilled, then turned, her expression freezing into disdain.
“Careful,” she warned, her voice low and venomous. “You speak as though you are owed something. Do not forget who you are, and who keeps you breathing.”
Uther opened his mouth, but she stepped closer, her shadow swallowing his.
“Xaden would not be so forgiving,” she whispered. “What do you think he would say…if he knew that his dear uncle abandoned his sister, your own blood, in her time of need? That you left her to die while you crawled into my protection? Do you imagine he would welcome you, or cut you down where you stand?”
The words hit him like a lash. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
“That’s what I thought,” Cherry sneered. “Gratitude, Uther. Learn it. Because had it not been for me, you would already be rotting in the dirt.”
She drew herself up, her power thick in the air. “Do not test me again.”
With that, she vanished into the mirror’s surface, leaving Uther trembling in the silence, his ambition souring into bitter fear.
❧
Morning broke cold and pale over the pack. Jasmine stood in her chamber, her hands lingering over the last of her belongings. The air was heavy, filled with the scent of folded cloth and polished wood. Nanny Nia moved briskly around her, checking bags, muttering instructions, but Jasmine’s thoughts were far away.
It was time.
She glanced once more around the room that had held her sorrows and her fleeting joys. She would not miss it. Her heart still felt raw, but there was a stubbornness in her chest that refused to shatter.
Fiona entered, her arms crossed as though she were holding herself together. “So… this is really goodbye.”
“Not forever,” Jasmine said softly, though her throat tightened. “Just for now.
Fiona smiled weakly, brushing back Jasmine’s red curls with a tenderness that almost undid her. “You’re stronger than you think. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t.”
Together they walked through the corridors, where pack members gathered quietly to see Jasmine off. Some bowed their heads, others offered murmured farewells. She gave each a small smile, her chest aching with the weight of leaving behind all she had known, even if much of it was pain.
But before stepping into the courtyard, Jasmine veered away. Fiona and Nanny Nia exchanged glances but followed without question as she walked down the narrow stone path that wound toward the hidden garden.
The small space lay quiet and green, hidden from the world. Jasmine knelt at its heart, where soft earth cradled the memory of her daughter. She placed a cluster of wildflowers over the spot, her fingers trembling.
“Sleep well, my little one,” she whispered. “I will carry you with me, wherever I go.”
Tears blurred her vision, but she refused to wipe them away. This was her farewell, and she would not hide from it.
Fiona knelt beside her, touching her shoulder. No words were needed; the silence was enough.
At last Jasmine rose, steadying herself. She pressed one hand over her chest where the broken emerald pendant lay hidden. A reminder of her past, and of strength yet to be found.
They returned to the courtyard, where a carriage waited. Its polished wood gleamed in the morning light, the horses stamping impatiently. Anna stood already near the steps, her expression unreadable, though her eyes flickered with something sharp as she watched Jasmine approach.
Jasmine turned first to Fiona. “I’ll miss you,” she said, her voice low but firm.
Fiona’s arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace. “And I you. Remember, Jasmine, you don’t need to let anyone fight your battles anymore. You’re stronger than you know.”
Jasmine held her for a moment longer, then pulled away, climbing into the carriage. Nanny Nia followed, settling beside her with a reassuring touch.
Anna entered last, her perfume heavy, her eyes sliding briefly to Jasmine before she fixed her gaze out the window.
The door shut. The driver cracked the reins, and the carriage jolted forward, rolling away from the packhouse.
Jasmine looked out at the passing trees, her heart aching, her mind torn between grief and anticipation. She was leaving behind the place of her deepest sorrows… but perhaps, beyond its borders, waited something more.
Something she could not yet name.