HAZELEver since Arnold returned to the palace, our days have been a whirlwind of worry and uncertainty. Arnold and Ethan work tirelessly to find a cure for the sickness plaguing our kingdom, and I do everything I can to support them. We spend our days poring over scrolls and consulting with experts, but despite our best efforts, the sickness continues to spread unchecked. Arnold and Ethan may be kings, but they are also my mates, and I cannot stand by and watch as they shoulder the burden alone. The only thing I can do is to try my best to take care of them, and making sure the cooks make their favorite meals and making sure they get enough rest. In return, they do the same for me, offering words of encouragement and comfort when I need them most, and giving me routine massages. But no matter how hard we try to maintain a sense of normalcy, the weight of the situation hangs heavy over us. Some nights, when the palace is quiet and the weight of the world feels too much to bear, I ca

HAZELI don’t think that I’ve ever been this down in my life, not even when I got bullied by Cathy, Gwen, Francesca and the rest of the maids I was working with. Not even when I was still working as a maid and the entire town hated me to the point that I almost got sold and the person who saved me did so because he was afraid of my mates. Seeing your mates in pain is a whole different kind of torture that I would never wish on everyone, and it all boils down to the feeling of uselessness. Because as their mate, I want to help them, but I cannot. Not in the way that they need now, at least. The people who can help them have tried their best, so what can I do about it? I’m on the roof, and this time I’ve taken the bold step of sitting on the edge. If I ever got married to any of my mates, or to the two of them, I would become the queen of two kingdoms. But I’ve not even done anything deserving of that kind of title, and not only that, what is a queen to an empty kingdom? The kings ar

ETHANAs the days crawl by, each moment weighed down by the heaviness of despair and uncertainty, I find myself caught in a relentless cycle of agony and torment. It feels like I'm drowning in a sea of darkness, unable to find even a glimmer of light to guide me through the shadows.I never imagined my life would come to this, trapped within the confines of a prison cell, surrounded by walls that seem to close in on me with each passing day. The air is heavy with the stench of despair, and the silence is deafening, broken only by the occasional echo of footsteps in the corridor outside. Hazel is like a beacon of light in the darkness, her strength and determination shining through even in the bleakest of moments. "Ethan, are you okay?" She asks, her voice filled with genuine concern. I look up at her, my eyes meeting hers, and I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for her presence in my life. In spite of everything we've been through, she remains steadfast in her support, a

HAZELThe guards do not bother to respond, their faces stony and impassive as they focus on the road ahead. I feel a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach, a sense of dread creeping over me like a suffocating fog. “Please, you have to tell me what's going on!” I plead, desperation seeping into my voice. “I need to know.” Still, the guards remain silent, their silence like a death sentence hanging heavy in the air. I can feel the panic rising within me, threatening to consume me whole. Something is wrong somewhere. Suddenly, the carriage lurches to a halt, throwing me forward against the hard wooden seat with a sharp cry of pain. Before I can even gather my wits, the door is wrenched open and two masked figures loom in the doorway, their faces masked by shadows. “Come with us!” One of them growls, reaching out to grab me roughly by the arm. I try to pull away, to fight back, but they're too strong, too determined. With a yank, they drag me out of the carriage and onto the

HAZEL I wake up feeling groggy, my head pounding and my body burning with fever. I try to sit up, but dizziness washes over me, and I flop back onto the bed with a groan. Something's not right. I feel hot, too hot, and my thoughts are all jumbled up, like pieces of a puzzle scattered on the floor. “Your majesty, why haven't you come out for breakfast? Do you want us to bring it to you?” I hear a maid's voice echoing from outside the door. I try to respond, but my voice comes out as a croak. Panic grips me as I realize I can't move properly, can't even speak properly. “Something's wrong.” The maid says, her voice laced with concern. “We need to check on her.” The door swings open, and the maids rush in, their faces pale with worry. They hover around my bed, murmuring to each other in hushed tones. “My goodness, she is burning up!” One of them says, pressing a cool cloth to my forehead. I try to protest, but my words are lost in the fog of fever that clouds my mind. I can’t