Mute Mate: The Alpha's Obsession-Chapter 210: Shivering in the Shadows

The little girl’s hands moved to her mouth as she immediately made sure not to scream. Tears fell from her eyes as she tried her best to stay calm, but the shock and fear did not allow her to.

"Mama... m... mama," she whispered, fear creeping into her bones. Her breathing trembled, her body shook, and cold began to seep through her as she clutched the bag tighter than usual. She was human now—or rather, in human form. Her mother had failed to tell her that humans were not the only ones who existed, that vampires and werewolves existed too.

Her eyes scanned the water. She finally sighted her mother.

Her breath grew shaky. Her mother was alive, but just as she felt relieved, she moved—and her eyes trembled. Arrows began flying. Her mother moved swiftly inside. The girl’s heartbeat accelerated.

If anyone saw her now, she looked tired, even though she appeared like somebody who could take care of herself. She had never been the kind to do things on her own, even if she wished she could. She had maids, she had guards, and most of the things were done for her. She guessed it was because she was in human form that the cold felt unbearable. The room was not even warm. It seemed stacked with foodstuffs—lots of them—in a large sack, each stacked on top of the other.

She was glad her mother had finally escaped from these people, yet still, the situation alone had scared her. She tried her best to stay calm. She was old enough—she could do this. This was for her own good. She would forever be grateful to her mother. Only if her father had been a good king... Yes, it was a rule to have just one daughter, but that could be changed by the king. Why did the king refuse?

He had claimed it would be disrespectful to the ancestors.

Even when the queen had tried to talk to him gently about it, the king had gone crazy, claiming the queen wanted to become a ruler. That was when the queen stopped. She knew the king was the kind who wanted to make his own rules, and nobody could tell him otherwise.

She sat back on the floor, pressing her knees to her chest, holding the bag tightly. Her body was still soaked. Even though she was shivering from the cold, fear contributed just as much. She had not expected such horror and knew how painful it had been.

Just then, she heard footsteps. Her breath grew rapid as her heart began to beat loudly.

She covered her mouth and moved toward the sack bag in the corner, hiding. Given her small frame, no one would have guessed she was fifteen; she looked twelve or eleven.

She managed to hide in the not-so-dark room as the blinking of thunderlight created fleeting illumination.

She pressed her palm tightly to her lips to make sure no sound escaped. Finally, the door opened. An old man entered, holding a small bucket. He had come to check if any part of the room was leaking. Knowing this was a storage room, he assumed it would not, but he had come to confirm, to see if even a single drop of water might have seeped in.

In his other hand, he held a lantern that cast light across the wet floor. A particular wet spot caught his attention. He stared at it, then raised his head to examine the wood above for any leaks—but found nothing.

He looked around again. There was no sign of water on the ceiling. He guessed one of the men had checked before, but due to the rain, the floor had gotten wet. Satisfied, he decided to leave; his work here was done.

But just as he turned, he heard a sound. He paused, dropping the bucket.

Last time he checked, he remembered, he had closed the door properly... or had the last person not locked it, allowing a rat to slip in?

He hesitated, pausing to check if he was mistaken. Another sound came. It was like a stomach growling. He immediately followed the sound. Just as he reached it, he saw a girl, her body trembling violently as she hugged herself tight, hands clutching the bag.

The man’s eyes widened.

"Oh dear, you must have been one of the children who got caught in the rain... Tell me, can you recognize your parents?" He noticed how the girl flinched slightly.

The reason he had asked that was because he knew the children had been moved to the doorway when they arranged them and sheilded them from the rain.

He knew she was scared. Slowly, he extended his hands. She looked up, staring at them wearily, before gently placing her own hands in his as he helped her up.

The girl stared at him, sensing his calm demeanor. She was feeling so cold.

"Tell me, what about the parent who came here with you? Was it your father or your mother?" he asked gently. The girl shook her head. Her other hand held the bag tightly—the only thing reminding her of her mother.

"I h...have n...n...no p...parent," she stammered...she followed her mother’s advice not to tell anyone her secret. He looked at the girl, realizing she needed a change of clothes. He would take her to the maids’ side. The ship was large, with rooms for the poor, middle, and rich; the rich were few.

"Come with me," he spoke calmly. The girl nodded. The heavy rain outside began to ease.

She followed him, keeping close. As they stepped out of the room, she closed and opened her eyes to adjust to the light. The hallway was long, with candles on each side. She followed him calmly. She did not feel fear anymore—perhaps it was because this man did not yell at her.

They moved until the man finally stopped and knocked on a wooden door. After two knocks, it opened. A lady now stood there, older than the man.

"Mister Jude, what brings you here at such an unfaithful hour?" she asked. The man let out a soft chuckle. She was the head maid of the rich.

Her eyes finally fell on the little girl, hiding behind the man with her head lowered.

"Oh dear..." Her eyes widened as she turned to the man.

"She should stay with you, and I trust that this stays between us," he said. The lady nodded calmly. She would need to take care of the little girl, noting the goosebumps forming on her skin.

"Oh, Mister Jude, trust me, I know my onions," she said. The man gave a calm nod and encouraged the little girl to go forward. She raised her head and stared at the smiling lady.

"Tell me, sweetie... what’s your name?" The girl’s eyes widened as she stepped toward the lady. This was the name her mother had used to call her.

"P...Pandora," she quietly uttered. Entering the warm room, she felt freer, perhaps because the lady had used the name her mother used.

The door closed behind her. The old man moved toward the stairs. After climbing, he stopped in front of a well-furnished door. He knocked twice, then entered, bowing deeply.

A lady sat on a chair, legs crossed elegantly, her expression calm as she stared at the outside view—the rain that had now subsided.

"Is there something you are curious about, butler?" she asked gracefully, her pink lips moving.

"Yes, please. Once we reach Eltones, where are we heading to?" he asked with another bow. The lady smiled before speaking.

"To the palace. We would not want to arrive on the day of the ball, would we?"

"As you wish, Lady Emberg."