Chapter 3

Jazlyn POV:

Leaving Camila frozen in the council hall, I followed the servants down the rear corridor into the Dowager's quiet side pavilion. The rooms smelled of expensive calming incense, though the air carried the strict, watchful pressure of the old matriarch's household.

That first night, instead of rushing to plant spies, I brought a basin of warm water infused with a trace of my awakened White Wolf healing energy and knelt to massage the Dowager's knees, which ached from old silver injuries. The pure warmth melted the stiffness in her joints, drawing a long, relaxed sigh from the usually stern old woman.

The next evening, I accompanied the Dowager to the grand family dining hall for the clan banquet. My eldest sister-in-law, Rosalind, entered holding her one-month-old pup and bowed gratefully to Kalia, who was clinging to Camila's arm.

"Mother, if Cousin Kalia hadn't braved the wind and snow last month to beg for sacred snow-lotus water from the temple outside the city, my pup and I would have died in childbirth," Rosalind said softly.

Several elders at the table nodded in approval. Camila lifted her chin proudly, shooting a sideways glare at me. "Kalia has a kind heart, willing to her own spiritual energy for our pack's heirs—unlike certain people who hold the title of eldest daughter but only know how to demand things."

Kalia quickly ducked her head, looking timid and wronged. "Auntie, please don't say that. I'd gladly shatter my bones for the Burks fortress, as long as Cousin Jazlyn doesn't blame me for taking her courtyard..."

The Dowager patted the back of my hand and murmured, "Jazlyn, Kalia saved your sister-in-law and our eldest grandson. Be more forgiving about the Rosewood Wing so you don't look narrow-minded."

In my past life, those words felt like ice water poured over my head, driving me to scream that Kalia was a fraud until everyone called me a jealous madwoman. Yet during my eighteen years as a ghost, I had seen the secret temple records: Kalia hadn't gone to pray for holy water at all—she had used the trip to meet her black-market benefactor, Elton Butler, in a private tavern!

"Grandmother is right. Cousin saved two lives; I admire her too much to ever hold a grudge," I replied with a bright, flawless smile.

The tension at the table eased, and Camila opened her mouth, looking ready to ask that the Rosewood Wing's deed be permanently transferred to Kalia. Before she could speak, I set my spoon down against my porcelain bowl.

"Speaking of which, it's truly wondrous," I remarked casually, tilting my head as I studied Kalia under the chandelier light. "Looking closely tonight, I noticed that Cousin Kalia's brow bone, her jawline, and even the way she lifts her chin when sipping tea look identical to Mother's."

Clatter!

The ivory fork in Camila's hand slipped and crashed onto her porcelain plate, the sharp noise slicing through the chatter.

The entire banquet hall fell dead silent. Even the ambient pheromones in the room rippled with sudden unease. With my heightened White Wolf senses, I caught the sharp, sour stench of cold sweat erupting from Camila's pores—the unmistakable reek of a guilty liar cornered.

"W-what nonsense are you spouting?" Camila's voice cracked high and shrill as she lurched to her feet, her cheek twitching violently. "A niece resembling her aunt is completely normal! What is there to make a fuss about?"

Her eyes darted around the table in panic. At the head seat, the Dowager narrowed her eyes, her razor-sharp gaze sweeping back and forth between Camila's contorted face and Kalia's stiff features. In ancient werewolf law, bloodline purity was sacred; adultery and passing off a bastard as pack blood carried the penalty of having one's wolf core ripped out and being skinned alive.

Seeing the suspicious shadow darken the Dowager's face, Kalia clutched her chest and coughed weakly to change the subject. "Auntie, please don't argue with Cousin. The Winter Solstice festival is in a few days, and I prepared a huge surprise for the Elder Matron."

"Oh? What did you prepare?" the Dowager asked, looking away from Camila, though her tone remained cool.

Camila seized the lifeline, her face flushing with renewed arrogance. "Mother, Kalia pulled incredible strings to contact the High Priest of the High Temple of the Moon Goddess! She spent five hundred pure gold coins to book the number-one celestial private hall and a supreme purification feast for us on the Winter Solstice!"

Gasps of envy echoed from the branch relatives around the table. The High Temple was the spiritual heart of the kingdom, and its Winter Solstice feast—brewed with holy water and purifying herbs—was the ultimate symbol of noble status.

"Five hundred gold coins... that is nearly half a year of our territory's tax revenue. Kalia is thoughtful," the Dowager said, the frost on her face melting into pleased vanity.

Kalia raised her chin at me in triumph. I lowered my eyes and took a slow sip of cedar tea as the banquet ended and we stepped out into the lantern-lit corridor. Five hundred gold coins of dirty smuggling money from Elton Butler—they had just bought their own execution warrant.